“Oh! thank you very much.” Mary blew and blew a long time. “I can’t make it whistle,” said she, almost ready to cry.
“Sometimes they will whistle, and sometimes they won’t,” said Frank. “Try again, Mary.”
She tried once more, and the whistle made a low, sweet sound.
“It whistles!” she cried.
In her joy, she had turned the doll’s face down, and its eyes shut tight, as if it had gone to sleep.
“So it is,” said Mary. “Dear, little thing; it must be put in its bed now.”
So they went into the house.
Frank’s basket was soon filled, and he went home happy.