“Oh, I don't know,” said Polly, giving Cherry a piece of bread, and laughing to see how cunning he looked. “Oh, no, of course not, but it's an awful long ways, Phronsie.”
“I don't care,” said Phronsie, determinedly, giving the new doll a loving little pat, “I'm goin' sometime, Polly, to thank my poor sick man, yes, I am!”
“You'll see him next summer, Phronsie,” sang Polly skipping around the kitchen, “and Jappy's sister Marian, the lovely lady, and all the boys. Won't that be nice?” and Polly stopped to pat the yellow head bending in motherly attentions over her array of dolls.
“Ye-es,” said Phronsie, slowly; “the whole of 'em, Polly?”
“Yes, indeed!” said Polly, gayly; “the whole of 'em, Phronsie!
“Hooray!” shouted the two boys, while Phronsie only gave a long sigh, and clasped her hands.
“Better not be looking for summer,” said Mrs. Pepper, “until you do your duty by the winter; then you can enjoy it,” and she took a fresh needleful of thread.
“Mamsie's right,” said Ben, smiling over at her. And he threw down his book and jumped for his cap. “Now for a good chop!” he cried, and snatching a kiss from Phronsie, he rushed out of the door to his work, whistling as he went.
“Warn't Mr. Henderson good, ma,” asked Polly, watching his retreating figure, “to give Ben learning?”
“Yes, he was,” replied Mrs. Pepper, enthusiastically. “We've got a parson, if anybody has in this world!”