“Do open it,” said Ben, “and then you'll find out.”
“But p'raps 'tisn't for me,” said Polly, timidly.
“Well, Mr. Atkins says 'tis,” said Ben, impatiently; “here, I'll open it for you, Polly.”
“No, let her open it for herself, Ben,” protested his mother.
“But she won't,” said Ben; “do tear it open, Polly.”
“No, I'm goin' to get a knife,” she said.
“I'll get one,” cried Joel, running up to the table drawer; “here's one, Polly.”
“Oh, dear,” groaned Ben; “you never'll get it open at this rate!”
But at last it was cut; and they all holding their breath, gazed awe-struck, while Polly drew out the mysterious missive.
“What does it say?” gasped Mrs. Pepper.