“WE will teach her to knit,” declared Mary Frances’ grandmother’s knitting needles proudly. They spoke together.

When they did not speak together they always repeated what each other said. You see, they were twins. One was named Knit and the other was named Knack.

“And I will teach her to crochet,” said the big crochet hook just as proudly.

“Knitting is a much older art than crocheting,” said Knit.

“Knitting is a much older art than crocheting,” repeated Knack.

“Knit!” exclaimed Crow Shay Hook. “It is not!”

“How can you prove that?” asked Knit.

“How can you prove that?” asked Knack.

“Easily!” answered Crow Shay. “Crocheting is making knots. Knots were made by people before they ever thought of weaving. Knitting is a sort of weaving, you know. Knotting is not, you know.”

“To tell the honest truth,” a new voice spoke, “I do not believe any of you know what you are talking about; but I could tell you a story—” and the big ball of yarn rolled over nearer the group of needles.

“Oh, spare us, Wooley Ball!” begged all the needles. “We don’t want to hear any more yarns.”

“It is easy to see,” went on Wooley Ball, pretending not to notice their impoliteness, “that for most people crocheting is more easily learned than knitting. Therefore it seems best that Crow Shay should begin the lessons.”

“What’s that?” The Yarn Baby suddenly sat up, her hair standing out straight on her head. It always stood up straight and stiff when she was excited. “You know very well, Wooley Ball, that I was chosen to direct these lessons.”

“Please excuse me?” begged Wooley Ball. “I am always so interested in knitting and crocheting that sometimes I forget myself, I fear.”

The Yarn Baby’s hair slowly settled back into place. She smoothed and patted it down carefully.

“It so happens that I felt that Crow Shay had best commence the lessons,” she said.

Crow Shay glanced over at the Knitting Twins.

“Get the hook!” laughed the Knitting Needles. “We shall have lots of fun listening to the crocheting lessons.”

“All right,” cried Wooley Ball to Crow Shay; “let’s get ready, Hookey. I’ll chase you into the Red Cross knitting bag!” and away hopped Crow Shay, while the big ball rolled after him. Right down into the bottom of the big bag they landed and Crow Shay cuddled up close to Wooley Ball.

“We shall have a splendid time with Miss Mary Frances, don’t you think, Wooley Ball?” asked Crow Shay.

“Indeed we shall,” said Wooley Ball warmly. “If we begin to have the fun the Thimble People had, we shall feel very happy.”