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 Miss Kimono thanked her friend and departed; and that same afternoon the unhappy doll's ruined countenance was replaced by one so beautiful that it almost consoled Josephine for the loss of the more familiar face.

That very day, too, away out in a suburban village, where rents were cheap and needs few, three little lads sat on a bare floor, surrounding a baby, who rejoiced in the high-sounding name of Penelope, but rejoiced in very little else. Even now she was crying for her dinner, and each of the "triplets," as they were called by the neighbors, was doing his utmost to console her. In reality they were not triplets, though the eldest were twins, and their names were those so objectionable in Uncle Joe's ears, Tom, Dick, and Harry.

"Here, Penel! You may play with my pin-*wheel!" cried the latter.

"No, Harry, she must not. She'll swallow it. The pin'll scratch her insides. She swallows everything, Penelope does. And you mustn't say just 'Penel.' Mother doesn't like that. She says it's a beautiful name and mustn't be spoiled."