“Oh!” exclaimed Polly, clasping her hands. David crowded up closely, almost forgetting the precious book in his hands. To own a dog, and to have him sleep on your bed at night!
“Would you like to see a picture of Towsle?” asked Miss Parrott, with a keen look into each face.
“Oh, would you show it to us?” cried Polly eagerly.
Davie drew a long breath. It wasn’t necessary for him to ask, as long as Polly did.
“You hold the doll,” Miss Parrott laid Priscilla in Polly’s arm, “and stay there, children.”
So Polly and David waited by the big sofa and watched Miss Parrott go over to a cabinet on the wall. And pretty soon back she came with an old-fashioned daguerreotype in her hand.
“You see, Uncle John wanted to have our pictures taken, and we begged to have Towsle between us. So there we are!”
Miss Parrott pushed up the little spring and there were two small girls in checked high-necked dresses, with ruffles around the necks, and hair brushed back and held by round combs. A small fuzzy-wuzzy dog with eyes like black shoe buttons sat primly up between the two.
Polly and David gazed perfectly absorbed at the picture. At last Miss Parrott asked, “Now which of these two little girls do you think is my picture?”
“Were you ever a little girl?” It was impossible for David to keep from asking the question now, although the instant it was out, he knew that a terrible blunder had been made.