"I should like to roll out some thimble-cookies, but Ruthie hasn't much patience this morning.

I never dare do things when her lips are squeezed together so." But Flyaway dared do things.

She took up the kitty, and played to her on the "music," till Ruth's ears were "on edge." After this the harmonica fell into a dish of soft soap, and in cleaning it with ashes and a sponge, the holes became stopped.
"It won't _muse_ no more," said Flyaway, in sad surprise, blowing into the keys in vain.

Ruth loved the little child too well to say she was glad of it.
Flyaway's next dash was into the sink cupboard, where she found a wooden bowl of sand.

This she dragged out, and filling her "nipperkin" with water, carried them both to Ruth, saying, in her sweet, pleading way,-- "_If_ you please, Ruthie, will you tell _how_ God does when he takes the 'little drops of water and little grains of sand,' and makes 'the mighty _oshum_' with um, '_and_ the pleasant land' ?" Ruthie had no answer but a kiss and a smile.
"There, away with you into the nursery, both of you.