"My own!" cried Phronsie, sticking out one foot for inspection,
where every button was in the wrong button-hole, "and they've got
red tops, too!"

"So they have," said the doctor, getting down on the floor beside
her; "beautiful red tops, aren't they?"

"Be-yew-ti-ful," sang the child delightedly.

"Does Polly have new shoes every day?" asked the doctor in a iow
voice, pretending to examine the other foot.

Phronsie opened her eyes very wide at this.

"Oh, no, she don't have anything, Polly don't."

"And what does Polly want most of all--do you know? see if you
can tell me." And the doctor put on the most alluring expression
that he could muster.

"Oh, I know!" cried Phronsie, with a very wise look. "There now,"
cried the doctor, "you're the girl for me! to think you know! so,
what is it?"

Phronsie got up very gravely, and with one shoe half on, she
leaned over and whispered in the doctor's ear:

"A stove!"

"A what?" said the doctor, looking at her, and then at the old, black