Peaches
appeared for a minute as if a faint were imminent.
"Now do you see why I couldn't come with a poetry piece when my head was
so full of these things?"
"Yes Mickey, but you will before night?" she begged.
"You want it even now?" he marvelled.
"More 'an the passol, even!" she declared.
"Well you fool little sweet kid!" cried Mickey and choked. He fled around
the house as Peter came out. In his ears as he went sounded Peter's big
voice and the delighted cries of the family.
"I want Mickey!" wailed Peaches.
He heard her call and ran back fast for fear he might be so slow reaching
her that Peter would serve. But to his joy he found that he alone would
answer.
"I want to see me!" demanded Peaches.
"Sure you do!" cried Peter. "I'll just hand down the big hall mirror so
you can see all of you at once."
He brought it and set it before her. Peaches stared and drew back. She
cried, "Aw-w--ah!" in a harsh, half-scared voice. She gripped Mickey with
one hand and the parasol with the other; she leaned and peeped, and
marvelled, and smiled at a fully clothed little girl in the glass, while
the image smiled back.
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