om window, a chit of a
girl, smaller than myself, strutting up and down the Bishop's garden,
pushing a doll's perambulator. She had fluffy golden hair about her
shoulders, and her skirts gave a rhythmic swing as she turned the corners.
Now and then she would stop in her walk, remove the covering from the doll,
do some idiotic thing to it, and replace the cover with elaborate care.

We stared fascinated. Then Angel blew out his lips in disgust, and said--

"Ain't girls the most sickenin' things?"

"There she goes again, messing with the doll's quilt," I agreed.

"Le's fwow somefing at her!" suggested The Seraph.

"Yes, and get into a row with the Bishop," answered Angel. "But I don't see
myself going over there to play again. She's spoiled everything."

"I s'pose she's a spoiled child," said The Seraph, dreamily. "Wonder where
her muvver is."

"I say," said Angel, "let's rap on the pane, and then when she looks up,
we'll all stick our tongues out at her. That'll scare her all right!"

We did.

When her wondering blue eyes were raised to our window, what they saw was
three white disks pressed against the glass, with a flattened pink tongue
protruding from each. We glared to see the effect of this outrage upon her.
But the dauntless little creature never quailed. Worse than that, she put
her fingers to her lips and blew three kisses at us--one apiece.

We were staggered. We withdrew our reddened faces hastily and stared at
each other. We were aghast. Almost we had been kissed by a girl!

"Let's draw the blind!" said Angel. "She shan't see us! Then we can peek
through the crack and watch her."

But no sooner was the blind pulled down than we heard our governess coming
and flew to our seats.

"Boys!" she gobbled, stopping in the doorway, "what does this mean? The boy
who pulled down that blind stand up!"

Angel rose. "The light hurt my eyes," he lied feebly, "I aren't very well."

"Ridiculous!" snapped Mrs. Handsomebody, running up the blind with
precision, "this room at its brightest is dim. Your eyes are keen enough
for mischief, sir. Now we shall proceed with our arithmetic."

We floundered through the Tables, but my mind still wandered in the
Bishop's garden. Resentment and curiosity struggled for mastery within me.
In my mind's eye I saw her covering and uncovering the doll. Why did she do
it? What did it feel like to push that "pram"? Would she drink tea from the
Indian Tree cups and be allowed to stru