“Yes, I do,” cried Pickering in a high, wrathful key, “think it's worth while too, so there, Jasper King!”
“Oh, he does, I do believe, Jasper,” cried Polly, looking at Pickering's face.
“Why, of course I do,” said Pickering.
“And so we must let him into the plans.” So Polly turned around to draw Pickering in, and old Mr. King leaned forward in his seat, and the committee of ways and means got so very busy that they didn't even know when Thomas turned in at the big stone gateway, until Polly looked up and screamed out, “Why, we are home! Why, we can't be!”
“Well, we are, Polly, my child,” said old Mr. King, getting out to help her with his courtliest air. “We've been gone just three hours and a half, and a very good afternoon's work it is too. For Jim's children will care twice as much for what you young folks are going to do for them as for anything I may do. Yes, Polly, they will,” as he saw her face. “And I'm sure if I were in their places, I'd feel just the same way.”
X JOEL AND HIS DOG
“Now, children,” hummed Phronsie, pausing in the midst of combing her doll's flaxen hair, “you must keep still, and be very good; then I'll get through pretty soon,” and she bowed to the several members of her numerous family set up in a row before her, who were awaiting their turn for the same attention. Then she took up the little comb which had dropped to her lap, and set herself busily to her task again.
Alexia looked in at the door of the “baby-house,” as Phronsie's little room devoted to her family of dolls, was called. “Oh my goodness me!” she exclaimed, “don't you ever get tired of everlastingly dressing those dolls, Phronsie?”