She had been asking questions about the roof garden, and how to open the scuttle.

Probably she would be investigating that before long, getting a bird's-eye view of the city from the chimney tops.
"I believe she could find some occupation on the top of a church steeple," thought Joyce, recalling some of the things with which she had seen Mary amuse herself.

There was the time in Plainsville when a burned foot kept her captive in the house, and she couldn't go to the neighbours.

Always an indefatigable visitor, she amused herself with a pile of magazines, visiting in imagination each person and place pictured in the illustrations, and on the advertising pages.

She played with the breakfast-food children, talked to the smiling tooth-powder ladies, and invented histories for the people who were so particular about their brands of soap and hosiery.
There was always something her busy fingers could turn to when tired of household tasks; bead-work and basket-weaving, embroidery, knitting, even strange feats of upholstering, and any repair work that called for a vigorous use of hammer and saw and paint-brush.