“Now,” said Bizzybuzz, “just suppose that you want to pack up something to carry away with you on your journey. What would you each like to have most?” “My new jack-knife,” answered Dick. “My pink silk dress,” declared Meg. “Wiggles,” said Bab. “What is Wiggles?” asked Bizzybuzz. “My fox-terrier,” she explained enthusiastically. “I wish he were here now for you to see. He’s the dearest—” “Oh, it wouldn’t do at all!” cried Bizzybuzz, hastily. “For if you had him here, how would you make believe that you had him?” This seemed unanswerable. “Now,” went on Bizzybuzz, in a business-like way, “you must each pretend that you are carrying what you most want. You”—to Meg—“have a pink dress hanging on your arm. Oh, what a pretty pink dress! It has ribbons and lace and ruffles! It must be very becoming.” Instinctively Meg crooked her arm and looked at it. “Such a lovely dress!” proceeded Bizzybuzz. “I don’t see it,” said Meg, at last. “Oh, dear!” sighed Bizzybuzz. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” said Meg, “I’m quite sure. I don’t see it at all. Do you?” “Of course I do!” said Bizzybuzz. “Never mind, you’ll see it yourself in time.” Then he turned to Dick. “Do you mind letting me see your jack-knife?” he said. “Thanks!” He pretended to take something in his hand. “What a fine one! May I open it? One—two—three blades! It certainly is a fine jack-knife. Here, take it back again.” He seemed to hand the imaginary knife back to Dick. “Do you see it?” he demanded anxiously. “N-no,” said Dick, doubtfully. “I don’t think I do. But I’m not quite sure. I feel as though I might see it if you kept on making believe long enough.” “That’s much better!” exclaimed Bizzybuzz, looking pleased. “And now for you,” he went on, turning to Bab. “You have Wiggles in your arms; suppose you put him down. Oh, he doesn’t want to get down, does he? He loves you very much! See if he’ll come to me. Here, doggie,—doggie,—doggie!” Bab stared hard at the spot where her beloved Wiggles was supposed to be. For a moment she did really seem to see his fat white and brown body wriggling ecstatically and trying to wag its stump of a tail. “Oh!” she cried, “I almost saw him then—almost—yes, yes, _yes!_ I _quite_ see him! Oh, Wiggles, dear!” And down she went on her knees. “Don’t be so silly!” said Meg, crossly; and Wiggles disappeared. “_You_’ll learn very quickly,” said Bizzybuzz, approvingly, “you, little girl with the dog. But you’ll all learn in time. And now we must be off.” “Off!” “Yes; Mother Goose will be growing impatient. Come, hurry up! And don’t forget that you are bringing with you the jack-knife, and the pink dress, and Wiggles!” “Bringing things we can’t see!” said Meg, scornfully.