“Never mind, I’ll help you make one,” promised Sister Sallie, so the two little friends walked on through the woods.

“What will you make my doll of?” asked Brighteyes.

“I don’t just know yet,” said Sallie.  “I will look around for something.”  So she looked first on one side of the woodland path, and then on the other, and Brighteyes did the same, but they couldn’t seem to find anything out of which to make a doll.

Then, all at once, oh, I guess in about two wiggles and a wag, if Sallie didn’t see a nice, long, smooth, yellow carrot.

“That will make a fine doll!” she cried.  “We will use some cornsilk for hair, and some little stones for the eyes, nose and mouth, and for dresses——­”

“Well, what will we make dresses from?” asked Brighteyes, for she noticed that Sister Sallie was at a loss what to say.

“Oh, I know—­leaves,” cried the little squirrel.  “We will pretend that green is fashionable for ladies with a sort of carroty complexion,” and she laughed, and so did Brighteyes, whose nose twinkled just like the diamond in mother’s ring, or baby’s eyes, when he is happy.

So the two little friends sat down on a grassy bank, in the shade of an oak tree, and they made the carrot doll.  Oh, it was such fun!

First they stuck two little pebbles in for eyes, and they looked as real as anything; then they stuck a little larger stone in the carrot for a nose, and then Brighteyes found a nice, long stone, sort of curled up around the ends, and when that was put in the carrot, just beneath the nose, why it looked exactly as if that carrot doll was smiling as hard as she could smile; she was so happy, I s’pose.

“Now for some dresses!” exclaimed Sister Sallie, who had put her own corncob doll under some grass to sleep.  So they got some beautiful green leaves from the tree, and fastened them together with grass and needles from the pine tree, and they made the nicest dresses you ever saw.

Let me see, there was one made in princess style, and one empire gown, and one that had a pull-back in the skirt, and one was a tub dress, whatever that is, and there was a crepe de chine and a basque and peau de soie effect and—­and—­er—­well, I know you’ll excuse me from mentioning any others, as I don’t know very much about dresses; it took me quite a while to look those up, and I must get on with the story.

Well, when they had the dresses all made they tried them on the carrot doll, and they fitted perfectly, believe me, they did!

“Oh, isn’t this lovely,” cried Brighteyes.  “Now let’s play house,” so they played house, and each one had a room, there on the grass, with sticks and stones for furniture, and they put the dollies to bed, and woke them up, and took them for a walk, and they made believe wash dishes and get meals, and, oh, I don’t know what they didn’t do.

But, all of a sudden, just as they were putting their dolls to sleep, they heard a sort of growling in the bushes, and a big, shaggy, yellow dog, with glaring eyes, jumped out at them!  Oh, how frightened Brighteyes and Sister Sallie were!