arly
to bed, and next morning did her lessons with an energy which made Uncle
Fritz wish that a new game could be invented every day. Quite a thrill
pervaded the school-room when Daisy was dismissed at eleven o'clock,
for everyone knew that now she was going to have the new and mysterious
play.

Many eyes followed her as she ran away, and Demi's mind was so
distracted by this event that when Franz asked him where the desert
of Sahara was, he mournfully replied, "In the nursery," and the whole
school laughed at him.

"Aunt Jo, I've done all my lessons, and I can't wait one single minute
more!" cried Daisy, flying into Mrs. Bhaer's room.

"It's all ready, come on;" and tucking Ted under one arm, and her
workbasket under the other, Aunt Jo promptly led the way upstairs.

"I don't see anything," said Daisy, staring about her as she got inside
the nursery door.

"Do you hear anything?" asked Aunt Jo, catching Ted back by his little
frock as he was making straight for one side of the room.

Daisy did hear an odd crackling, and then a purry little sound as of a
kettle singing. These noises came from behind a curtain drawn before a
deep bay window. Daisy snatched it back, gave one joyful, "Oh!" and then
stood gazing with delight at what do you think?

A wide seat ran round the three sides of the window; on one side hung
and stood all sorts of little pots and pans, gridirons and skillets;
on the other side a small dinner and tea set; and on the middle part a
cooking-stove. Not a tin one, that was of no use, but a real iron stove,
big enough to cook for a large family of very hungry dolls. But the best
of it was that a real fire burned in it, real steam came out of the
nose of the little tea-kettle, and the lid of the little boiler actually
danced a jig, the water inside bubbled so hard. A pane of glass had
been taken out and replaced by a sheet of tin, with a hole for the small
funnel, and real smoke went sailing away outside so naturally, that it
did one's heart good to see it. The box of wood with a hod of charcoal
stood near by; just above hung dust-pan, brush and broom; a little
market basket was on the low table at which Daisy used to play, and over
the back of her little chair hung a white apron with a bib, and a droll
mob cap. The sun shone in as if he enjoyed the fun, the little stove
roared beautifully, the kettle steamed, the new tins sparkled on the
walls, the pretty china stood in tempting rows, and it was al