a piece of newspaper—for tissue and wrapping paper were not easy to obtain in that part of the world in 1862—and unrolled it, and a small doll appeared, a doll made of cloth, whose hair was of yarn raveled from the foot of an old brown stocking; whose eyes were black buttons, and whose scarlet mouth had been marked by beet juice. The doll wore a gay dress made of bits of yellow silk from Mrs. Arnold’s scrap-bag. Her feet were covered with kid shoes, made from a worn-out glove, and the little hat, tied on with a bit of yellow silk, Berry had made by plaiting dried grasses.
“Mollie will like this doll, too,” Berry thought happily, as she returned the package to its former place. “I wish there were some other little girls to ask to her birthday party,” she thought, recalling her former playmates of the far-off Vermont village, where a birthday party had meant the gathering of at least a dozen little girls, all in pretty dresses, and each bringing a gift for the girl whose birthday they were celebrating. Berry smiled to herself as she glanced46 down at her stout leather boots and baggy knickerbockers. “They would all think my clothes as queer as Mr. Bragg does,” she thought, recalling the full flounced skirts and embroidered pantalettes that she had worn before coming to Shiloh.
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Snow continued to fall during the night, so that Mollie’s feet were wet and her faded skirt more drabbled and limp than usual when she reached the Arnolds’ cabin the next morning. An old brown shawl of Mrs. Bragg’s covered her head and shoulders, and one end of it trailed behind her as she entered the pleasant kitchen.
Mrs. Arnold took off Mollie’s shawl as she welcomed their little visitor, and Berry ran for a pair of moccasin slippers that Mr. Arnold had made from tanned sheepskin, and in a few moments Mollie’s wet shoes had been set to dry and she was following Berry through the sitting-room to Berry’s chamber, looking about as she always did with admiring eyes at the simple comforts of a home so different from the Braggs’ dark, squalid cabin.
“Do you remember what day this is, Mollie?” Berry demanded as they entered her room.
Mollie nodded eagerly as she smiled radiantly up at her friend.
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