Margaret worked very carefully and soon snipped the threads, and put the
little Stitchers in the pincushion to rest.
She made some pretty blue satin ribbon bows to add to the little dress
as a finishing touch, and sewed them on.
“’Tis done at last,” she said, with a sigh of joy, slipping the lovely
party-dress on over her doll’s curly hair. “You’ll be the sweetest doll
at the tea-party, I know,” she said happily.
The tiny King and his subjects danced around in an admiring ring.
“We thank our little friends very much, don’t we, dear?” Margaret said
to her doll.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER XIII
JIM’S OVERALLS
“Look out or you’ll tear your clothes!” cried Margaret to her brother
Jim one day as they climbed through a barbed-wire fence out in the
fields.
They were visiting Auntie’s farm. It was great fun to go swimming, hunt
eggs, feed chickens, ride on top of the big hay-loads and just be
outdoors all the time. Both children had exactly the right clothes for
such good times—middy and bloomers for Margaret, blouse and overalls for
Jim. Besides these, not much else was needed, for Auntie let them run
barefoot most of the time.
“Oh, pshaw! now I’ve done it! Ouch! I’m caught!” the next minute Jim
cried out to his sister, who was herself clambering very carefully over
the wire so the sharp little barbs would do no damage.
[Illustration: “Ouch! I’m caught”]
“Wait! I’ll get you loose!” Margaret exclaimed coming to his rescue.
With pulling and tugging he was soon free, but a big ugly hole was torn
in the seat of his overalls.
“Would you look at that! And the last clean ones I have, too,” Jim said
in despair. It certainly was a sad accident, for this was their last day
on the farm and there were lots of things to do for the last time.
“Never mind. I’ll mend them for you,” Margaret said. “Jump into your
bathing-suit and while you’re taking a swim I’ll be mending these. Boys
certainly are a care,” she said to herself with a sigh on her way up to
her room. But in her heart she was really quite delighted at the chance
to show her sewing skill.
“Sir Bodkin!” she called when she was up-stairs in her bedroom. All the
One-Eyes were hiding in a pretty sewing-bag that she had made to carry
them in when travelling. She loosened the drawing-string and out popped
Sir Bodkin.
[Illustration]
“Well, well, I wondered when you’d be calling us out this trip,” he said
shaking himself and walking around the bureau-top to stretch his legs.
“What’s the trouble now? I s’pose it’s trouble or you wouldn’t be
needing us on a vacation,” he went on to say.
“Yes,” laughed Margaret, “it’s trouble and it needs to be doctored right
away.” She held up the torn overalls for him to see.
“Well, I should say so. Patching is the thing for that big tear. Take
your scissors and cut off the ragged edges to make the hole as round as
you can. Have you some of the same goods for a patch?” he asked.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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