nds
carefully at the sink, tied on a big white apron and brought the sugar
and cinnamon from the pantry.

"Oh, Grandma!" squeaked Brother in joyful excitement. "What are you
going to do?"

"Why, get some medicine ready for Muriel Elsie," answered his
grandmother, making believe to be surprised. "Didn't you want me to?"

"Of course--don't mind him, Grandma," said Sister scornfully. "I'd like
to keep a drug store when I grow up."

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 swin