and she saw that he had two
caterpillars neatly embroidered on the back of his waistcoat so as to
form the letters B. S.

[Illustration: "HE WAS WALKING ABOUT WITH HIS HANDS IN HIS
WAISTCOAT-POCKETS."]

"Now I wonder what B. S. means," she said to herself with her usual
curiosity. "It _stands_ for Brown Sugar, but, of course, it can't be
that. Perhaps it means Best Suit, or Bird Superintendent, or--or--why
it must mean Bob Scarlet, to be sure!" and clapping her hands in the joy
of this discovery, she ran after the Robin to take a nearer look at him
and, if possible, to have a little conversation.

But Bob Scarlet proved to be a very difficult person to get near to.
Over and over again Dorothy caught sight of the top of his hat beyond a
hedge, or saw the red waistcoat through the bushes; but no matter how
quickly she stole around to the spot, he was always gone before she got
there, and she would see the hat or the waistcoat far away, in another
part of the garden, and would hurry after him only to be disappointed as
before. She was getting very tired of this, and was walking around
rather disconsolately, when she happened to look at one of the plants,
and discovered that little sunbonnets were growing on it in great
profusion, like white lilies; and this was such a delightful discovery,
and such an exceedingly interesting circumstance, that she instantly
forgot all about Bob Scarlet, and started away in great excitement to
examine the other plants.

[Illustration: "THERE WERE PLANTS LOADED DOWN WITH LITTLE PINAFORES, AND
SHRUBS WITH SMALL SHOES GROWING ALL OVER THEM."]

There was a great variety of them, and they all were of the same curious
character. Besides the bonnet-bush, there were plants loaded down with
little pinafores, and shrubs with small shoes growing all over them,
like peas, and delicate vines of thread with button-blossoms on them,
and, what particularly pleased Dorothy, a row of pots marked "FROCK
FLOWERS," and each containing a stalk with a crisp little frock growing
on it, like a big tulip upside down.

"They're only big enough for dolls," chattered Dorothy, as she hurried
from one to the other, "but, of course, they'll grow. I s'pose it's what
they call a nursery-garden. Just fancy--" she exclaimed, stopping short
and clasping her hands in a rapture,--"just fancy going out to pick an
apronful of delightful new stockings, or running out every day to see if
your best frock is ripe yet!" And I'm