It was noon when they reached home, and Hanny felt real hungry, though Mrs. Odell declared she didn't eat more than a bird. She was glad her girls were not such delicate little things. They went out on the shady back stoop afterward. Janey was sewing the over-seam in a sheet that her mother wanted turned. When she had finished, and picked out the old sewing, she was free. Then she said they would go down to the Bristows' and have a good game of hide and seek. They always had such fun at the Bristows'. Polly brought out her basket of carpet-rags,--a peach basket nearly full. "I just hate to sew carpet-rags!" she declared. "Couldn't I help you?" asked Hanny. "Why, to be sure you _could_, if you would, and knew how to sew." "Of course I know how to sew," said Hanny, rather affronted. "Oh, I was only in fun! I'll find you a thimble. It's in my work-box that was given me on Christmas. It's real silver, too. Mother's going to change it when she goes to New York, only she never remembers. My fingers are so fat. Oh, Hanny, what a little mite of a hand! It'll never be good for anything." "I have made a whole shirt myself, and I have hemstitched, and done embroidery, and I wipe dishes when I haven't too many lessons," interposed the little girl. "You can't make your own frocks," in a tone of triumph. "No. Miss Cynthia Blackfan comes and does it. Can you?" "No, she can't," said Janey, while Polly threw her head back and laughed, showing her strong white teeth. "And she could no more make a shirt than she could fly. You're real smart, Hanny. I'm two years older, and I've never made a whole one. I'm going to try though, and father's promised me a dollar when I do it all by myself." Polly had found the thimble. It wasn't any prettier than Hanny's, though Polly begged her "to be real careful and not lose it." "Now you can just sew hit or miss; and then you can put in a long strip of black, 'cause there's more black than anything else. Oh, dear, I do hate to sew rags!" "What kind of sewing do you like?" asked Janey, in a tone that would have been sarcastic in an older person. "I just don't like any kind. Hanny, do _you_ know that some one has invented a sewing-machine?" and Polly looked up with the triumph of superior wisdom. "Oh, yes, I saw it at the Institute Fair. And there's a place on Broadway where a woman sits in the window and sews. It's very queer; but we think it doesn't sew real nice." Polly was for the moment nonplussed. Hanny _did_ seem to know almost everything. Then curiosity overcame her. "Does it do really and truly sewing?" "Why, yes. When you come down, I'll ask Joe to take us over to see it." "Carpet-rags?" "Well--I don't know. Long straight seams, and hems and stitching." "Well, I'm going to have one when I'm married. I wonder if they cost very much!" "There'll be lots of things for you to do before you are married. And some girls don't have any chance. You'll want to know how to keep house--"