He plunged his fingers in, and out they came with the strip, “Percy.”
“Now, Jasper, you couldn't possibly have chosen better,” declared Polly, hopping up and down, “for Phronsie did so want to hear Percy speak. And it will please Percy so. Oh, I'm so glad!”
“Well, I'm thankful I haven't to draw again,” declared Jasper, “for we can't have but three pieces beside the overture, you know. So it's your turn now, Polly.”
“Oh dear me!” exclaimed Polly, the color dying down in her cheek, “if I shouldn't draw the right one, Jasper King; and it's the last chance.”
She stood so long with her hand poised over the Chinese bowl, that Jasper finally laughed out. “Oh, Polly, aren't your tiptoes tired?”
“Not half so tired as I am,” said Polly grimly. “Jasper, I'm going to run across the room, and then run back and draw suddenly without stopping to think.”
“Do,” cried Jasper.
So Polly ran into the further corner, and came flying up, to get on her tiptoes, thrust in her fingers, and bring out the third and last strip.
“The deed is done!” exclaimed Jasper. “Now, Polly, let's see who it is.”
“Pick!” he shouted.