“Oh, Jasper, Papa Fisher says that Phronsie may stay in twenty minutes. Just think; we can do a lot in twenty minutes.”
“But somebody is bound to be late, so we can't begin on time. Nobody ever does, Polly.”
“We must,” said Polly passionately, “begin on time to-morrow night, Jasper.”
“We'll try,” said Jasper, as cheerfully as he could manage.
“And there's your piece. Why, Jasper, Phronsie told me herself that she must hear yours.”
“Well, and so she told me that she'd rather hear you play your piece,” said Jasper; “but you and I, Polly, as long as we change the program, can't come in among the first.”
“No, of course not,” said Polly. “But, oh, Jasper,” and she gave a sigh, “it's too bad that you can't recite yours, for it is most beautiful!” Polly clasped her hands and sighed again.
“Well, that's not to be thought of,” said Jasper. “Now I tell you how we'll fix it, Polly,” he said quickly.
“How?” asked Polly gloomily.
“Why, we have twenty minutes that Phronsie can stay in. Now, let's mark off all those things that she wants, except yours and mine, even if they come beyond the time; and then we'll draw just those that will get into the twenty minutes.”