"Because I wanted you to sleep all you could," said Mrs. Fisher, "and now if you'll only dress Polly Pepper as quickly as possible, that's all I ask."
"I will dress Polly Pepper in a twinkling, Mamsie," declared Polly, laughing merrily; "O dear me, where is my other stocking?" She stuck out one black foot ready for its boot. "Is it down there, Mamsie?" All the while she was shaking the bedclothes violently for any chance glimpse of it in the berth.
"Where did you put it last night when you took it off, Polly?" asked Mrs. Fisher, buttoning away for dear life on Phronsie's shoes. "There now, Pet, those are done; hop out now, and fly into your clothes."
"I thought I put 'em both in the corner here," cried poor Polly, twitching everything loose. Thereupon her big hat, hung carefully upon a high hook, slipped off and fell to the floor.
"Take care, Polly," warned her mother, "haste only makes matters worse."
"But I can't go with only one stocking on," said Polly, quite gone in despair now. "Oh, dear Mrs. Henderson, don't you see it on the floor?" For that good woman had dropped to her knees, and was busily prowling around among the accumulation of bags and clothing.
"That's what I'm hoping to do," she answered, "but I don't see it as yet, Polly."
"I'll help Polly to find it," cried Phronsie, now thoroughly awake and dropping her small skirts to get down on the floor by Mrs. Henderson's side. "Don't feel badly, Polly; I'll find your stocking for you."
"No, Phronsie," said her mother, "you must get into your own clothes. And then Mrs. Henderson is nearly all ready, and you can go out with her, and that will leave more room, so that Polly and I can search more carefully. And the stocking has got to come, for it couldn't walk off of itself," she added cheerily as she saw Polly's face. "Why—what?" as she happened to look upward. And then Polly looked, too, and there was her stocking dangling from the very high hook where the big hat had been.
"You tossed it up there, I suppose, when you shook up the bedclothes so quickly," said Mrs. Fisher. "Well, now," as Polly pounced on the stocking, "see how fast you can hop into your clothes, daughter." Then she began to put the things for the bags into their places, and Matilda, coming in, finished the work; and Polly flew around, buttoning and tying and patting herself into shape, and by the time that little Dr. Fisher's voice called at the door, "Well, wife, are you ready?" there they all were, trim and tidy as ever for a start.