It would make her
feel like a blot in a fair white copybook, to walk about in it when the
beautiful clean snow covered the earth. What a pity that everything in
the world was not pretty!

Pennie's whole soul went out towards beauty, and anyone with a pretty
face might be sure of her loving worship and admiration. "All is not
gold that glitters, Miss Pennie," Nurse would say, or, "Handsome is that
handsome does;" but it made no impression at all; Pennie continued to
feel sure that what looked pretty _must_ be good, and that a fair
outside meant perfection within.

She stood thoughtfully watching Nurse as she put the bonnets away. It
_would_ be nice to wear a scarlet handkerchief over your head like that
gypsy. Such a lovely colour! And then there would be no tormenting
"caught back" feeling when the wind blew, which made it necessary to
press the chin firmly on the strings to keep that miserable bonnet on at
all. And besides these advantages it would be much cheaper, for she had
heard her mother say that Miss Griggs' things were _so_ expensive; "but
then," Mrs Hawthorn had added, "the best of them is that they _do_
last." Pennie thought that decidedly "the worst" of them, for she and
Nancy would have to wear those bonnets for at least two winters before
they showed any signs of wearing out--indeed, they had been made rather
large in the head on purpose.

But it was of no use to think about it any more now, so with a little
sigh she turned away and went back to her dolls, prepared to treat the
ugly one, Jemima, with even more than usual severity. Jemima was the
oldest doll of the lot, made of a sort of papier-mache; her hair was
painted black and arranged in short fat curls; her face, from frequent
washing and punishment, had become of a leaden hue, and was full of
dents and bruises; her nose was quite flat, and she had lost one arm; in
her best days she had been plain, but she was now hideous. And no
wonder! Poor Jemima had been through enough trials to mar the finest
beauty. She had been the victim at so many scenes of torture and
executions that there was scarcely a noted sufferer in the whole of the
History of England whom she had not, at some time or other, represented.
To be burnt alive was quite a common thing to Jemima, and sometimes,
descending from the position of martyr to that of criminal, she was
hanged as a murderer! In an unusually bloodthirsty moment Ambrose had
once suggested _really_ putt