"Grandpapa," she said, reaching up to whisper again, "I'm afraid it
will make Araminta feel badly to see me with my beautiful wooden shoes
on, when she can't have any. Do you suppose there are little teenty
ones, Grandpapa dear, and I might get her a pair?"

"Yes, indeed," cried Grandpapa, nodding his white head in delight,
"there are shoals of them, Phronsie, of all sizes."

"What are shoals?" queried Phronsie.

"Oh, numbers and numbers--so many we can't count them," answered Mr.
King, recklessly.

Phronsie slid down into her place again, and sat quite still lost in
thought. So many wooden shoes she couldn't count them was quite beyond
her. But Grandpapa's voice roused her. "And I'll buy a bushel of them,
Phronsie, and send them home, so that all your dolls at home can each
have a pair. Would that suit you, Pet?"

Phronsie screamed with delight and clapped her hands. Polly and Jasper
who had changed places, as Dr. Fisher and Mr. Henderson had made them
take theirs by one window, now whirled around. "What is it?" cried
Polly of Phronsie. "What is it?"

"I'm going to have wooden shoes," announced Phronsie, in a burst of
confidence that included everybody in the compartment, "for my very own
self, and Araminta is going to have a pair, and every single one of my
children at home, too. Grandpapa said so."