three chums joined in the admiration. For Mollie, with the characteristics of a French girl, loved pretty clothes, and rather inclined to a pronounced style not indulged in by her chums. But she always dressed becomingly.
"It is lovely!" exclaimed Hattie Reynolds. "But isn't it awfully light, Mollie?"
"Not for where we are going," was the answer. "You forget that we are going to a summer land. Oh, Dodo—stop that!" she cried, for from the room where stood Mollie's half-packed trunk came the twin, trailing a garment "That's my best petticoat!" wailed Mollie. "You'll ruin it. And Paul! What are you doing with that shirtwaist—it's my very finest lawn!"
"Us 'ookin' for tandy!" calmly announced Dodo. "Has oo dot any in oo pockets?"
"Pockets! We never have pockets!" cried Betty. "Oh, aren't they too funny for anything!"
"You wouldn't say so, if they did this—or something like it—to you three or four times a day," exclaimed Mollie, half-crossly, as she advanced to rescue her garments. But the twins backed away, stepping on the skirt.
"Paul—Dodo—give those to sister at once!" commanded Mollie.
