"I can make lovely dolls out of peanuts." "Nonsense," said his wife, "we can all make peanut dolls.

And besides, Jack, you must get away to your business.

Your office boy will think you're lost, strayed, or stolen." "I suppose I must," sighed Cousin Jack; "it's awful to be a workingman.
Come on, Ned; want to go in to Boston with me ?" The two men went away, and after a while Cousin Ethel called the children to come to what she called a Dolly-Bee.
On the table, in the pleasant living room, they found heaps of materials.
Bits of silk and lace and ribbon, to dress little dolls,--and all sort of things to make dolls of.
King insisted on helping also, for he said he was just as handy about such things as the girls were.

To prove this, he asked Cousin Ethel for a clothespin, and with two or three Japanese paper napkins, and a gay feather to stick in its cap, he cleverly evolved a very jolly little doll, whose features he made with pen and ink on the head of the clothespin.
And then they made dolls of cotton wadding, and dolls of knitting cotton, and peanut dolls, and Brownie dolls, and all sorts of queer and odd dolls which they invented on the spur of the moment.
They made a few paper dolls, but these took a great deal of time, so they didn't make many.

Paper dolls were Kitty's specialty.