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Mollie and the Unwiseman
Mollie and the Unwiseman
I
Bopeep
In which Mollie Meets the Unwiseman
Mollie had been romping in the hay all the afternoon. With her were Flaxilocks, the French doll, and young Whistlebinkie, the rubber boy, who had got his name from the fact that he had a whistle set in the top of his beaver hat. Flaxilocks and Whistlebinkie could stand a great deal of romping, and so also could Mollie, but, on the whole, the little girl was not so strong as the dolls were, and in consequence along above five o'clock, having settled herself down comfortably on the shaded side of the hay-stack, a great pillow of sweet-scented clover grass under her head, it is not to be wondered at that Mollie should begin to ponder. Now it is a curious thing, but Mollie always has singular adventures when she ponders. Things happen to her then which happen at no other times, and which also, as far as I have been able to find out, never happen to other little girls.
It was this way upon this particular afternoon, as you will see when you read on. She had been pondering for three or four minutes when almost directly at her side she heard a sob.
"Who's that?" she asked, sleepily, gazing around her.
"Who's what?" said Flaxilocks, sitting up and opening her great blue eyes so suddenly that something inside of her head seemed to click.
"Somebody's sobbing," said Mollie.
"I guess not," returned Flaxilocks. "We are all alone here. Nobody could have sobbed unless it was Whistlebinkie. Whistlebinkie, did you sob?"
"No," said Whistlebinkie, "'twasn't me. I can't sob because I haven't got a sobber to sob with. I've only got a whistle."
"Maybe I dreamed it," said Mollie, apparently satisfied for the moment, and then the three threw themselves back on the hay once more and began their pondering anew.
They did not ponder very long, however, for in a few moments Flaxilocks rose up again and observed:
"I heard a sob myself just now, Mollie."