ces didn't really care about dolls. She only pretended to, to be company for her little niece.
"No, I don't!" answered the little girl emphatically. "I get just sick and tired of always seeing them with that old, bright-yellow hair! I like them to have brown hair, just the way most little girls really do!"
Ellen lifted her eyes and smiled radiantly. "Oh, so do I!" she said. "And that lovely old doll your folks have has got brown hair. Will you let me play with her some time!"
"My folks!" said Elizabeth Ann blankly.
"Why yes, your Aunt Abigail and your Uncle Henry."
"Have they got a doll?" said Betsy, thinking this was the very climax of Putney queerness.
"Oh my, yes!" said Molly, eagerly. "She's the one Mrs. Putney had when she was a little girl. And she's got the loveliest clothes! She's in the hair-trunk under the eaves in the attic. They let me take her down once when I was
