idn't need to tell us twice. We dashed helter-skelter out of the
door, all four of us, splashing the mud and slush recklessly.

Suddenly Munda cried out, "Oh, I'm fast to something! I'm fast to
something behind!"

Just think! I had forgotten to untie the string from the button! I
thought I heard a buzzing noise when we flew out of the door, but it
never occurred to me that it could be the string-ball whirling around in
its frame.

There was no time now to untie the knot, for Madam Graaberg was right
out in the street and calling after us. They were not exactly gentle
words she was using, either, you may well believe!

"Oh, but I'm fast--I'm fast!" shrieked Munda again.

"Tear off the button!" I shouted. Munda made some desperate efforts to
get hold of her own back. No use; so I took hold of the string and gave
a great jerk and off came the button. Munda was free and we dashed round
the street corner.

"Uh, uh huh!" sobbed Munda. "Mother'll be so angry about that button!"

"Pooh!" said I. "Just sew the hole up, and you can always find a button
to put over it. But oh, girls! How jolly angry Madam Graaberg was!"

"Yes, and wasn't she funny when she said, 'Out of my shop this
instant'?"

We were tremendously pleased with our joke. We talked and
laughed--enjoying ourselves immensely; but we hadn't had enough
tomfoolery yet.

"Girls," I said, "now let's go to Nibb's shop and ask whether he has
white velvet."

All were willing. To think of asking that queer Mr. Nibb for white
velvet, when he kept only shoe-strings and paraffin for sale! My! but
that would be fun! Mr. Nibb always has the window shades tight down over
his shop windows, so that not the least thing can be seen from the
street. He isn't exactly right in his mind--and do you know what he did
once?

It was in church and I sat just in front of him and had on my flat fur
cap. He is a great one to sing in church and he stands bolt upright and
sings at the top of his voice. And just think! He laid his hymn-book on
top of my cap just as if it were a reading desk, and I didn't dare to
move my head because he might get in a rage if I did. So he sang and
sang and sang, and I sat and sat there with the hymn-book on the top of
my head.

Well--that was that time--but now we stood there in the street
considering as to whether we should go in and ask him if he had white
velvet.

"No, we surely don't dare to," said Karen.

"Oh, yes we do," said I. "He can't ki