who had ever taken lessons, and she could play Peter-Peter-Pumpkin-Eater with one hand.
In fact, Marcella had almost worn out Raggedy Ann’s right hand teaching it to her.
“Play something lively!” said the French doll, as she giggled behind her hand, so Uncle Clem began hammering the eight keys on the toy piano with all his might until a noise was heard upon the stairs.
Quick as a wink, all the dolls took the same positions in which they had been placed by Marcella, for they did not wish really truly people to know that they could move about.
But it was only Fido. He put his nose in the door and looked around.
All the dolls at the table looked steadily at the painted food, and Uncle Clem leaned upon the piano keys looking just as unconcerned as when he had been placed there.
Then Fido pushed the door open and came into the nursery wagging his tail.
He walked over to the table and sniffed, in hopes Marcella had given the dolls real food and that some would still be left.
“Where's Raggedy Ann?” Fido asked, when he had satisfied himself that there was no food.
“Mistress took Raggedy Ann and went somewhere!” all the dolls answered in chorus.
“I’ve found something I must tell Raggedy Ann about!” said Fido, as he scratched his ear.
“Is it a secret?’ asked the penny dolls.
“Secret nothing,” replied Fido, “It’s kittens!”
“How lovely!” cried all the dolls, “Really live kittens?”
“Really live kittens!” replied Fido, “Three little tiny ones, out in the barn!”
“Oh, I wish Raggedy Ann was here!” cried the French doll. “She would know what to do about it!”
“That’s why I wanted to see her,” said Fido, as he thumped his tail on the floor, “I did not know there were any
