A whole double sheet of newspaper was long enough for a skirt, which, in a paper dress, was always down to the floor, like grown-up gowns, and usually had a long train.  Sometimes they pasted the papers together, and sometimes pinned or sewed them, as the mood served.

The waists were often quite elaborate with surplice folds, and puffy sleeves, and wide, crushed belts.

So absorbed did they grow in their costumes that the time passed rapidly.  At last they stood, admiring each other, in their finished paper gowns, with paper accessories of fans, hats, and even parasols, which were considered great works of art.

“Let’s play we’re going riding in an automobile,” said Molly.

“All right; what shall be the automobile—­the bed?”

“No, that isn’t high enough.  I don’t mean a private automobile, I mean one of those big touring things where you sit ’way up high.”

“Let’s get up on top of the wardrobe.”

“No, that’s too high, and the bureau isn’t high enough.  Let’s get out on the roof and hang our feet over.”

“No,” said Marjorie, decidedly; “that would be getting into mischief; and besides, I promised Grandma I wouldn’t leave the room.  Come on, Molly, let’s climb up on the wardrobe.  There can’t be any harm in that, and ’twill be lots of fun.”

“How can we get up?”

Marjorie looked at the wardrobe and meditated.  “Easy enough,” she said after a moment:  “we’ll just put a chair on the table and climb up as nice as pie!”

The girls worked energetically, yet careful not to tear their paper costumes; and removing the things from a strong square table, they pushed it up to the wardrobe.  On this they set a chair, and Marjorie volunteered to go up first, saying that, if it didn’t break down with her, it surely wouldn’t with Molly.

So Molly held the table firmly, while Marjorie climbed up and, though it required some scrambling, she finally reached the top of the heavy wardrobe, without more than a dozen tears in her paper dress.

“Bring up my parasol, Molly,” she said, “I forgot it; and bring some papers and the scissors, and we’ll make some automobile goggles.”

Laden with these things, Molly briskly started to climb up.  The light, wiry child sprang easily on to the table, and then on to the chair.  Marjorie lent a helping hand, but just as Molly crawled up to the top of the wardrobe, her flying foot kicked the chair over, which in turn upset the table.

“Now, you have done it!” said Marjorie.  “How are we going to get down?”

“It seems to me,” said Molly, grimly, “that we’re always getting into places where we can’t get down, or can’t get up, or something.”

“Never mind; Jane or somebody will come along soon and set the table up again for us.”

It really was great fun to play they were on a high motor car seeing New York.  But after a while the game palled, and their paper dresses became torn, and the girls wanted to get down and play something else.