Again Mickey approved. Despite protests he removed the mirror, then put the doll in her arms. "Now you line up," he said. "Now you look alike! After you get your supper, comes the joy part for sure." "More joyous than this?" Peaches surveyed herself. "Yes, Miss! The joyousest thing of all the world that could happen to you," he said. "But Mickey-lovest!" she cried in protest. "You know--_you know_--what _that_ would be!" "Sure I know!" said Mickey. "I don't believe it! It never could!" she cried. "There you go!" said Mickey in exasperation. "You make me think of them Texas bronchos kicking at everything on earth, in the Wild West shows every spring. Honest you do!" "Mickey, you forgot my po'try piece to-night!" she interposed hastily. "What you want a poetry piece for with such a dress and ribbon as you got?" he demanded. "I like the po'try piece _better_ than the dress or the ribbon," she asserted positively. "You'll be saying better than the baby, next!" "Yes, an' better than the baby!" "You look out Miss," marvelled Mickey. "You got to tell true or you can't be my family." "Sure and true!" said Peaches emphatically. "Well if I ever!" cried Mickey. "I didn't think you was _that_ silly!" "'Tain't silly!" said Peaches. "The po'try pieces is _you!_ 'Tain't silly to like _you_ better than a dress, and a ribbon, or a Precious Child. I want my piece now!" "Well I've been so busy to-day, I forgot your piece, said Mickey. "'Nough things have happened to make me forget my head, if 'twasn't fast. I forgot your piece. I thought you'd like the dress and the joyous thing better." "Then you _didn't_ forget it!" cried Peaches. "You thought something else, and you thought what ain't! So there! I _want_ my po'try piece!" "Well do you want it worse than your supper?" demanded Mickey. "Yes I do!" said Peaches. "Well use me for a mop!" cried Mickey. "Then you'll have to wait 'til I make one." "Go on and make it!" ordered the child. "Well how do you like this?" "_Once a stubborn little kicker, Kicked until she made me snicker. If she had wings, she couldn't fly, 'Cause she'd be too stubborn to try._" A belligerent look slowly spread over Peaches' face. "_That's_ no po'try piece," she scoffed, "an' I don't like it at all, an' I won't write it on my slate; not if I never learn to write anything. Mickey-lovest, please make a _nice_ one to save for my book. It's going to have three on ev'ry page, an' a nice piece o' sky like right up there for backs, and mebby--mebby a cow on it!" "Sure a cow on it," agreed Mickey. "I saw a lot to-day! I'll tell you after supper. Gimme a little time to think. I can't do nice ones right off." "You did that one right off," said Peaches. "Sure!" answered Mickey. "I was a little--a little--per_voked!_ And you said that wasn't a _nice_ one." "And so it wasn't!" asserted Peaches positively. "If I have a nice one ready when I bring supper, will that do?" questioned Mickey.