make the clear, true glass; and she said that sometimes careless work still made that kind. She didn't like it. She said she liked to see her friends look as they really were, and that her window had no right to spoil them, even in her own eyes. She didn't think it was as funny as I did. Why, even the old watch-dog looked like the most awful beast, through that pane; and one kiddie that saw it screamed herself sick, she was so frightened; she couldn't be made to look at the real dog, she was so sure that she was going to be eaten up. Grandma had the pane taken out after a while, and a big new glass put into the sash. She said it was bad enough to look out and see other folks that way; but suppose some of them should come and look in and see her through the same pane."
"Well?" said the Dream.
"Oh, I guess I begin to see," said Marjorie. "Wait a minute. The spectacles were bad, crooked glass and weren't true, and so—but even if they were bad glass, and I knew it, I couldn't get them off. I tried and tried, but they were tangled in my hair, and the string wouldn't break, and I couldn't lift them up. What could I have done?"
