she
inquired.

"I'd like Mr. Jeminy," squeaked Sara. "He's in the toils."

"I'll go and see if I can find him," said Juliet. And she began to
look about for a twig, or a small branch, suitable for Jeminy. But all
at once she grew thoughtful. It had occurred to her that to look for
Mr. Jeminy in the flesh would be a delightful adventure. It would
please every one. She sat down on the porch steps to think it over.

In the first place, it would be necessary to slip off unobserved. For
although Mrs. Tomkins, by her own account, would be glad to have Mr.
Jeminy back again, Juliet felt that she could not explain to Mrs.
Tomkins exactly what she intended to do. As for the trip, an umbrella
in case of rain, and the company of Sara would be sufficient. Then it
was only a question of walking in the direction of Milford, before she
came on Mr. Jeminy in the middle of the road; so Mrs. Tomkins had said.

With Sara under her arm, she tiptoed around to the rear of the house,
skipped through the yard, climbed the low fence, and hurried home.
There she put on her best bonnet, and took her mother's umbrella from
the closet. Then she went back to her own room and took down her penny
bank. Holding it upside down, she began to shake it as hard as she
could. But only five pennies fell out. "That's enough," she decided.
It seemed to her that with five pennies she could buy almost anything.

When she went to bid good-by to her family, she decided that Sara was
not the doll she would take along with her, after all. For Anna had a
bonnet, whereas Sara had none. Anna also wore a new dress, made for
her by Mrs. Wicket out of an old petticoat. Sara was better company,
but Anna would be more respected along the road.

"I guess I'll take you, Anna," said Juliet. "No use your pulling a
face, Sara," she added; "it won't get you anything. You can't go. So
you may as well know it. Maybe if you're good, I'll bring you
something back."

And off she went down the road to Milford, Anna under one arm and the
umbrella under the other.

For a while, as she walked, she told herself stories. She believed
that she was the princess of one of Mr. Jeminy's fairy tales; then Anna
became a duchess, or an old queen. The fact that nothing unusual
happened to her, did not seem to her of any importance; she saw the
russet fields, the bare woods, the solemn clouds, and far off shine and
shadow; and walked with serious pomp for her own deligh