“Indeed we can. You need a doctor here to make some repairs, I’m thinking,” he said wisely. Then he went over to the work-basket and called in a loud voice:

“Doctor Darner! How about a little help here!”

From the work-basket came the sound of scrambling.

“Just so, just so,” replied a gruff voice as a large One-Eyed Fairy came hustling and bustling out of the work-basket and up to Sir Bodkin and Margaret.

“Take a good look and give us your advice,” said the King.

Doctor Darner looked very carefully at the torn stocking Margaret held in her hand.

“Two strands of black darning cotton, please,” he said.

Margaret got some out of the work-basket and cut off a length. She squeezed the thread the same way as she had the wool for Crewel so the loop would slip easily in Doctor Darner’s eye. Then she put her fingers on him and he began to sing:

Old Doctor Darner and Margaret worked very busily to fill in the great hole in her stocking. When it was mended, he took a little rest in the pincushion for a minute. Then he turned to her and said, looking very wise, indeed:

“Some day, you will learn how to mend other rips, tears, and holes.”

“Oh,” cried Margaret, laughing; “that will be fine ’cause Mother says I seem always to be needing a dose of thread and needle.” She then tested the darn in her stocking by pulling it this way and that to see if the stitches were close enough together, just as Doctor Darner told her to do. It seemed all right.

“Now your, stocking’s as good as new,” said he, bowing very low.

“Thank you so very much,” said Margaret truly grateful. Then he hurried away to his place in the needle-book.

“Isn’t he a nice old fellow?” said Margaret to Sir Bodkin when Doctor Darner had gone.

“Indeed he is, even if he is a little gruff in his manner at times,” replied the King.

“Mother always wanted me to learn how to mend my stockings and I never would. Now she’ll be so pleased when I show this one to her mended instead of torn. Mothers have a lot of unpleasant things to look at sometimes, don’t they?” she asked the tiny King, who was walking up and down the table-top in a very kingly manner.

“Indeed they do, My Lady,” he replied, “but I don’t think your mother will have as many now as she had before you met us.”

“That’s so. I mean to ask her to let me try to darn one of her stockings and one of Father’s socks, soon. But I am afraid it will be a long time before I want to try one of Brother’s. He does get the worst holes in his that I ever saw!” she said shaking her head.

“Boys are that way and have been ever since I can remember. But just make up your mind some day to try one of his and I am sure you’ll find it easier than you expected.” Sir Bodkin smiled wisely at his little mistress. He knew boys, but he also knew that Margaret was a very brave little girl who wouldn’t let a big hole in a stocking frighten her.

“Thank you, Sir Bodkin. I won’t forget what you say. I’ll run off now and show Mother how smart I’ve been,” she said as she limped out of the room. In a second Sir Bodkin heard her running along the hall just as usual.

“Her knee is mended, too,” he said smiling to himself. Then he took a good look around to see if everything in the work-basket was in order.

“It’s time we all had an emery plunge,” he was saying to himself as he slipped quietly into the basket.