- DOROTHY. i 31

Her mother laughed. “glhat was a little better, but you
should have said ‘she taught me.’ ”

“There it is again,” said Dorothy, wofully ; “it is always
some mistake. No, mamma, please let me be a cook. I will
make such nice cake.”

Her mother shook her head: “ No, little gir1, papa and I do
not want to have you reproach us when you are older, and
have you say, Why didn’t you make me go to school ?”

“ Well, I will try once more,” said Dorothy, despondently,
returning to her books.

Her mother left her in the quiet library, and Dorothy sat
there saying over and over s-i-ll sill, r-i-ll rill, in a sing-
song voice, till one of the Dream people took pity on her and
carried her away to the town of Think-Thought, which lies on
the river Slumber, and is bounded on the north by Daylight,
on the south by Dark, by Sunset on the west, and Sunrise on
the east. It is a queer place, and there is a street in it called
Topsy-turvey, where people gallop along on nightmares, or
turn into books, pictures, and all sorts of things; and there
is Flying Street, where one can float along like a cloud; and
there is Falling Street, where every few minutes one goes
down suddenly and has to make a jump to get on a level
again. It is a very queer place altogether, and one travels
there so fast, that five minutes after Dorothy’s mamma left her
the little girl was in the very midst of Think-Thought, in
what seemed to be a large hall. Dorothy thought it was a