Grandmother cut a slice of bread from the white loaf and buttered it lightly.  Then she sprinkled it with cinnamon and sugar, broke off a little piece and rolled that into several tiny round balls.  They looked for all the world like real pills.

Then she cut a slice of brown bread and rolled that into little pills, too.  She filled four of the small boxes.

“There!’ she said, giving the boxes to Brother.  “See that your patient takes a white pill and a brown one every two minutes and she will soon be well.”

“Thank you very much, Grandma,” said Brother, standing up to go.  “Don’t you want us to eat the trimmings?”

Grandmother laughed and said yes, they might eat the crusts, and she gave them each a slice of the brown bread spread with nice, sweet butter, too.

Brother and Sister hurried home and on the way over they changed to the Doctor and Muriel Elsie’s worried mamma.  They had been so interested in watching Grandmother Hastings make the pills that they had almost forgotten that they were playing.

They had left the patient in the porch swing—­Sister said it was important to keep her in the fresh air—­but when they went to take her up and give her a pill, she wasn’t to be found.

“Perhaps Louise did something to her,” decided Sister.

But Louise, questioned, declared she had not seen the doll.

“Is it Muriel Elsie you’re looking for?” asked Molly, her head tied up in a sweep cap and a broom on her shoulder as she prepared to sweep the upstairs hall.  “Why, I found her half an hour ago on the porch floor, her face all cracked into little chips.”

“Muriel Elsie all chipped?” repeated Sister in wonder.  “Why, she’s my very best doll!”

“’Twas that imp of a Brownie did it,” related Molly.  “I was coming out to sweep the porch off, and he raced on ahead and went to jerking the cushions out of the hammock.  First thing I knew there was a crash, and the doll was smashed on the floor.  I saved you the pieces, Sister.”

Brownie had a trick, the children knew, of snatching the sofa and swing cushions and flinging them on the floor whenever he thought anyone was ready to sleep.  They had always considered this rather a clever trick for a little dog, and Sister could not find it in her heart to scold him even now.

“I suppose he didn’t know Muriel Elsie was there,” she said sorrowfully.  “I had a cushion over her so she couldn’t take cold.  Where did you put her, Molly?”

Molly brought out the box with the unfortunate Muriel Elsie in it.  Only her pretty face was damaged and that was badly chipped.  Besides her whole head wobbled on her body.

Sister began to cry.

“Maybe Ralph can mend her,” she sobbed.  “My poor little Muriel Elsie!  And we were playing she was sick, too.”

“Yes, I guess Ralph can mend her,” said Brother bravely.  “He can mend lots of things.  And you have all the pieces.”