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Rose gave Phebe some of her nice things, and it was very good of
her. Can I?"
"Who is Pokey?" asked Rose, popping up her head, attracted by the
"My dolly; do you want to see her?" asked Jamie, who had been
much impressed by the tale of adoption he had overheard.
"Yes; I'm fond of dollies, only don't tell the boys, or they will laugh
"They don't laugh at me, and they play with my dolly a great deal;
but she likes me best"; and Jamie ran away to produce his pet.
"I brought my old doll, but I keep her hidden because I am too big
to play with her, and yet I can't bear to throw her away, I'm so fond
of her," said Rose, continuing her confidences in a whisper.
"You can come and play with Jamie's whenever you like, for we
believe in dollies up here," began Aunt Jessie, smiling to herself as
if something amused her.
Just then Jamie came back, and Rose understood the smile, for his
dolly proved to be a pretty four-year-old little girl, who trotted in
as fast as her fat legs would carry her, and making straight for the
shells, scrambled up an armful, saying, with a laugh that showed
her little white teeth
"All for Dimmy and me, for Dimmy and me!"
"That's my dolly; isn't she a nice one?" asked Jamie, proudly
surveying his pet with his hands behind him and his short legs
rather far apart a manly attitude copied from his brothers.
"She is a dear dolly. But why call her Pokey?" asked Rose,
charmed with the new plaything.
"She is such an inquisitive little body she is always poking that
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