[Illustration:  Billikens]

DILLY AND HER DOUBLE-FACED DOLLY.

“I think you ought to invite Dilly to your party, Mildred,” said Mrs. Fuller.  “She lives so near us, and you’ve invited every other little girl on the street.”

“Why,” said Mildred, “she’d be sure to bring that dreadful doll that she loves so much.  Some of the girls wouldn’t come if she were invited.  You said, mamma, I might ask just whom I pleased.”

Mrs. Fuller said nothing more, and the dainty notes of invitation flew here and there, but none stopped at Dilly’s door.  Dilly hardly expected an invitation, but there were some bitter tears which fell down on Arabella’s face.

Arabella was the name of one side of her doll.  The doll was a crooked-neck squash with a stick for its body.  It had two faces—­one on each side of its head, and ink lines drawn round some of the yellow warts, made very prominent features.

This doll was the comfort of Dilly’s life.  The yellow noses were worn quite flat with her kisses, and she never had a trouble which was not poured into the two sympathizing ears, owned in common by Arabella and Angelina.

The afternoon of the party came, and Dilly, with her doll, watched the gay little folks gather on the lawn in front of Mildred’s home.  She soon became interested in their play, and quite forgot that she was not one of them, in her excitement over a game of hide-and-seek.  Presently Mrs. Fuller called them for some pleasant surprise, and they all ran in, leaving their dolls leaning against the piazza.

There was nothing more to see.  Dilly was gathering up her doll, when something made her spring up and cry out.

Rover, Johnny Cooper’s dog, shot past her, barking loudly, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

Rover was the terror of every little girl in the neighborhood.  Johnny sometimes teased his sisters by sending Rover after their dolls.  Rover liked the sport, and came to think that dolls were his natural prey.  Next to a big bone, there was nothing that delighted him so much as to shake a doll to pieces.  He had seen the long row of dainty little figures, and was dashing towards them.  Dilly ran after him, threatening and coaxing, but he did not notice her.  Then she waved her turkey-red handkerchief, and screamed as loudly as she could, to attract someone’s attention.  But no one came.

Dilly thought of just one thing she could do.  A last kiss on Arabella’s face, and then—­“Rover!”

The cry sounded so sharp and strange that Rover turned his head.  S-w-i-s-h!  Right down at his side there swooped such a queer-looking doll as Rover, with all his varied experience, had never seen.  He made a dash for it.

Dilly darted past him, and, gathering up the dolls, laid them in the hall, and shut the door.  Her apron was over her face when she went down the walk, but a strange, crunching sound told her what had happened to her doll.