t back in that crib!" commanded Ruth
assuming her mother's tone.

"I won't!" And right over to the chair where her shoes and stockings
were, walked the baby. She seated herself on the floor and drew on her
stocking as if she had been in the habit of doing it on preceding
mornings. It was surprising to Anna-Margaret, herself, the ease with
which it went on.

"Look at that child," gasped Ruth.

Edith looked and said a little grudgingly, "I'll bet she can't put on
her shoes though." Edith remembered how long it was before she was able
to put on her shoes, and this accomplishment, in her mind, seemed to
give her a great superiority over her baby sister.

"Come on, Edith," called Ruth, "I'll beat you down to the pump and I'll
give you to the rose bush, too."

Struggling, pulling and twisting sat Anna-Margaret all alone, but the
shoe would not go on. She was just about to give up in utter despair and
burst into tears when Mother Dear appeared in the doorway.

"What is mother's angel doing? Well, well, look at Mother's smart child,
she has got on her stocking already,--here, let mother help her."

It was awful to think you were still such a baby that you couldn't do
anything yourself, but it was very nice, so Anna-Margaret thought, to
have such an adorable mother to come to your rescue.

"There now, run out and tell Ruth to wash your face and then mother will
give you your breakfast."

"Wash my face, Ruth," requested Anna-Margaret at the pump.

"Who laced up your shoes?" asked Edith suspiciously.

"I did." Anna-Margaret said it so easily that it startled herself.

"I don't believe it, I don't believe it. I am going to ask Mother."

"Hold still, will you, and let me wash your face," commanded Ruth.

As soon as she was free, away went Anna-Margaret back to the house.

"Muvver, Muvver," cried Anna-Margaret almost breathless as she entered
the big kitchen, "tell Edith I laced up my shoes, tell 'er, Muvver, will
yo', Muvver?"

Mother stopped her work at the breakfast table. "Anna-Margaret, I could
not do that because you didn't."

"But tell 'er I did, won't you, Muvver," she pleaded.

"Anna-Margaret, I can't do that because I would be telling a lie. Don't
I whip Ruth and Edith for telling lies?"

"Tell a lie, Muvver, tell a lie, _I won't whip you_."

Mother Dear was forced to smile. "Here, eat your breakfast, I can't
promise my baby I will tell a lie, even if she won't whip me."

Fortunately no one question