“Why, it's all full of shells!” exclaimed Maud, peering into the pan.
“Oh, thunder! I must have put'em in by mistake, and ate up the meats without thinking,” said Tom, trying to conceal his naughty satisfaction, as the girls hung over the pan with faces full of disappointment and despair.
“You did it on purpose, you horrid boy! I'll never let you have anything to do with my fun again!” cried Fan, in a passion, trying to catch and shake him, while he dodged and chuckled in high glee.
Maud began to wail over her lost delight, and Polly gravely poked at the mess, which was quite spoilt. But her attention was speedily diverted by the squabble going on in the corner; for Fanny, forgetful of her young-ladyism and her sixteen years, had boxed Tom's ears, and Tom, resenting the insult, had forcibly seated her in the coal-hod, where he held her with one hand while he returned the compliment with the other. Both were very angry, and kept twitting one another with every aggravation they could invent, as they scolded and scuffled, presenting a most unlovely spectacle.
Polly was not a model girl by any means, and had her little pets and tempers like the rest of us; but she did n't fight, scream, and squabble with her brothers and sisters in this disgraceful way, and was much surprised to see her elegant friend in such a passion. “Oh, don't! Please, don't! You'll hurt her, Tom! Let him go, Fanny! It's no matter about the candy; we can make some more!” cried Polly, trying to part them, and looking so distressed, that they stopped ashamed, and in a minute sorry that she should see such a display of temper.
“I ain't going to be hustled round; so you'd better let me alone, Fan,” said Tom, drawing off with a threatening wag of the head, adding, in a different tone, “I only put the shells in for fun, Polly. You cook another kettleful, and I'll pick you some meats all fair. Will you?”
“It's pretty hot work, and it's a pity to waste things; but I'll try again, if you want me to,” said Polly, with a patient sigh, for her arms were tired and her face uncomfortably hot.
“We don't want you; get away!” said Maud, shaking a sticky spoon at him.
“Keep quiet, cry-baby. I'm going to stay and help; may n't I, Polly?”
“Bears like sweet things, so you want some candy, I guess. Where is the molasses? We've used up all there was in the jug,” said Polly, good-naturedly, beginning again.