Another soft little “Peep!” drew her near her grandmother’s work-basket.
“Why!” she cried, “I could easily believe the voice comes from Grandma’s basket!”
“Peep! Peep! Peep! Peep!” the bird voice answered excitedly, as Mary Frances leaned over.
“Why! Why! Why!” she exclaimed. “If it isn’t―if it isn’t Grandma’s Sewing Bird! You dear little thing! Can you talk, too?” lifting her out. “I never thought of you!”
“Set me up Upon the table, Then I’ll sing As I am able, Chir! Chir! Chirp! Chirp!”
Mary Frances carried her over to the sewing table and fastened her carefully to the edge, just as she had seen her grandmother do.
[Illustration: Throwing Angie in the rocking chair.]
The other Thimble People kept perfectly still, wondering what would happen next.
“Do you know―you remind me of the Kitchen Folks, Birdie,” said the little girl.
“The Kitchen Folks! The Kitchen Folks! Of all the joyous, joyous jokes! The Thimble People’s nearest kin― Best friends we are―have always been,”
“The Thimble People!” exclaimed Mary Frances; “why, who are they? Are there many Thimble People? And what relation are they to the Kitchen People? Will you tell me all about them? And will they be my little friends?”
“Tut! Tut! So many questions, little maid, I cannot answer, I’m afraid― But I can say, without a joke, Your friends will be the Thimble Folk.”
“Oh, I’m so glad! My, I wouldn’t have missed knowing them for anything. Why, I feel as though I’ve known you for―for―ages!”
“I was so afraid You wouldn’t find me! And then, of course, You couldn’t mind me, Chirp!”
“Oh,” said Mary Frances, “wouldn’t that have been dreadful! I was so lonely and dreary that I almost wanted to go home instead of staying here at Grandma’s.”
“Are you alone In the house, Except maybe a mouse? Cheerp!”
“No,” said Mary Frances, “Katie’s in the kitchen,―but she’s very busy, and won’t bother with me, and my Grandma is out this afternoon, calling on some old ladies.”
“Oh, you poor Little lonely girl! It sets my head In quite a whirl; Let me sit here On this table, And comfort you As I am able.”
[Illustration: “Billy is a first-class scout”]
“Well, you see, Sewing Bird,” began Mary Frances gratefully, “Mother is never very strong, and Father had to go to California on business; and he thought wouldn’t it be nice to take Mother with him. So I’m here at my dear Grandma’s for the long summer vacation; and brother Billy is camping with the Boy Scouts; Billy is a first-class scout, you know.”