“I don't see much fun in these cold runs you are so fond of taking,” said Fanny, with a yawn and a shiver.
“Perhaps you would if you tried it;” and Polly laughed as she glanced at Tom.
“Did you go alone, dear?” asked grandma, patting the rosy cheek beside her.
“Yes'm; but I met Tom, and we came home together.” Polly's eyes twinkled when she said that, and Tom choked in his soup.
“Thomas, leave the table!” commanded Mr. Shaw, as his incorrigible son gurgled and gasped behind his napkin.
“Please don't send him away, sir. I made him laugh,” said Polly, penitently.
“What's the joke?” asked Fanny, waking up at last.
“I should n't think you'd make him laugh, when he's always making you cwy,” observed Maud, who had just come in.
“What have you been doing now, sir?” demanded Mr. Shaw, as Tom emerged, red and solemn, from his brief obscurity.
“Nothing but coast,” he said, gruffly, for papa was always lecturing him, and letting the girls do just as they liked.