with a Scotch plaid dress made from pieces of mine, but I only
play with her on Sunday when I dare not do much else. I like
Dick the best because he fits my apron pocket. Father wanted me
to change his name and call him Oliver P. Morton, after a friend
of his, but I told him this doll had to be called by the name he
came with, and if he wanted me to have one named for his friend,
to get it, and I'd play with it."

"What did he do?"

"He didn't want one named Morton that much."

Mr. Pryor took Dick Oglesby in his fingers and looked at his
curly black hair and blue eyes, his chubby outstretched arms,
like a baby when it wants you to take it, and his plump little
feet and the white shirt with red stripes all a piece of him as
he was made, and said: "The honourable governor of our sister
state seems a little weighty; I am at a loss to understand how he
swims."

"It's a new way," I said. "He just stands still and the water
swims around him. It's very easy for him."

Then I carried Dick to the water, waded in and stood him against
a stone. Something funny happened instantly. It always did. I
found it out one day when I got some apple butter on the governor
giving him a bite of my bread, and put him in the wash bowl to
soak. He was two and a half inches tall; but the minute you
stood him in water he went down to about half that height and
spread out to twice his size around. You should have heard Mr.