"and we're all twins."

"I wonder if your mother could spare one or two of you?" asked Billina,
who decided that they were fresh baked; but at this dangerous question
the six little gems ran away as fast as they could go.

"You musn't say such things, Billina," said Dorothy, reprovingly. "Now
let's go into Pop Over's back yard and get the waffles."

"I sort of hate to let that fence go," remarked Mr. Over, nervously, as
they walked toward his house. "The neighbors back of us are Soda
Biscuits, and I don't care to mix with them."

"But I'm hungry yet," declared the girl. "That wheelbarrow wasn't very
big."

"I've got a shortcake piano, but none of my family can play on it," he
said, reflectively. "Suppose you eat that."

"All right," said Dorothy; "I don't mind. Anything to be
accommodating."

So Mr. Over led her into the house, where she ate the piano, which was
of an excellent flavor.

"Is there anything to drink here?" she asked.

"Yes; I've a milk pump and a water pump; which will you have?" he asked.

"I guess I'll try 'em both," said Dorothy.

So Mr. Over called to his wife, who brought into the yard a pail made
of some kind of baked dough, and Dorothy pumped the pail full of cool,
sweet milk and drank it eagerly.

The wife of Pop Over was several shades darker than her husband.

"Aren't you overdone?" the little girl asked her.

"No indeed," answered the woman. "I'm neither overdone nor done over;
I'm just Mrs. Over, and I'm the President of the Bunbury Breakfast
Band."

Dorothy thanked them for their hospitality and went away. At the gate
Mr. Cinnamon Bunn met her and said he would show her around the town.
"We have some very interesting inhabitants," he remarked, walking
stiffly beside her on his stick-cinnamon legs; "and all of us who are
in good health are well bred. If you are no longer hungry we will call
upon a few of the most important citizens."

Toto and Billina followed behind them, behaving very well, and a little
way down the street they came to a handsome residence where Aunt Sally
Lunn lived. The old lady was glad to meet the little girl and gave her
a slice of white bread and butter which had been used as a door-mat.
It was almost fresh and tasted better than anything Dorothy had eaten
in the town.

"Where do you get the butter?" she inquired.

"We dig it out of the ground, which, as you may have observed, is all
flour and meal," replied Mr. Bunn. "There is a butter