“Oh, yes, I will,” she cried, taking the purse.
“And there's ten cents for your bird seed in that pocket,” said Mrs. Pepper, pointing to a coin racing away into a corner by itself.
“Yes'm,” said Polly, wild to be off.
“And there's a five-cent piece in that one for you to ride up with,” said her mother, tying up the purse carefully. “Remember, for you to ride up with. Well, I guess you better ride up anyway, Polly, come to think, and then you'll get home all the quicker.”
“Where you going?” asked Phronsie, who on seeing the purse knew there was some expedition on foot, and beginning to clamber down out of the chair. “Oh, I want to go too, I do. Take me, Polly!”
“Oh, no. Pet, I can't,” cried Polly, “I've got to hurry like everything!”
“I can hurry too,” cried Phronsie, drawing her small figure to its utmost height, “oh, so fast, Polly!”
“And it's ever so far,” cried Polly, in despair, as she saw the small under lip of the child begin to quiver. “Oh, dear me, mamsie, what shall I do!”
“Run right along,” said Mrs. Pepper, briskly. “Now, Phronsie, you and I ought to take care of Cherry, poor thing.”
At this Phronsie turned and wiped away two big tears, while she gazed up at the cage in extreme commiseration.