So they ran into the den; and Jasper got out the long program all ready to be pinned up beside the improvised stage, on the evening of the great event, and spread it on the table, Polly meanwhile clearing off the books.
“Let's see.” He wrinkled up his brow, running his finger down the whole length. “Now, when I make the new program, Mr. Dyce goes first.”
Polly stood quite still at that. “Oh, Jasper, we can't do it—no, never in all this world.”
“Why, Polly,”—he turned suddenly—“yes, we can just as easily. See, Polly.”
“We can't spoil that lovely program that took you so long to make, for anything,” said Polly, in a decisive fashion. “Phronsie wouldn't want it,” she added.
“Phronsie isn't to know anything about it,” said Jasper, just as decidedly.
“Well, but Jasper, you can't make another; you haven't the time,” said Polly in great distress, and wishing she hadn't said anything about the changes. “I didn't think there would have to be a new program made.”
“Oh, Polly, I think we'd better have a new one,” said Jasper, who was very particular about everything.
“I thought we were going to have changes announced from the stage,” said Polly. “Oh, why can't we, Jasper? I'm sure they do that very often.”
“Well, that's when the changes come at the last moment,” said Jasper reluctantly.