[Polly began to parade up and down the old kitchen floor.]
“Hoh, how you look!” cried Joel in disdain.
“Joel,” she cried, coming up to him, with sparkling eyes and her cheeks rosy red, “it must be perfectly lovely to have a train to your dress. Oh, don’t I wish I had one just like that picture in Mr. Beebe’s book! Then I’d have a fan, a red fan just like that lady—no,” said Polly, wrinkling her brows as she tried to decide, “I b’lieve I’d rather have a pink fan, Ben does so love pink. Yes, my gown shall be pink, too, pink satin with sweet little white flowers all over it, and shiny. O Joel, it shall shine just like everything!” and Polly swept up and down again like a lady of fashion.
“Well, that isn’t Mrs. Nutcracker,” called Joel loudly, in an injured tone.
“Oh, I forgot!” exclaimed Polly, all her airs and graces tumbling off from her in a flash, and she skurried back to Joel. “Oh, let me see! where was I?”
“You said Mrs. Nutcracker’s long train swept out,” supplied Joel.
“Oh, yes, so I did. Well, and you know the dreadful creature that was always watching to see if he could find the Nutcracker house left all alone, caught sight of her long train sweeping away, and he snapped his green eyes with delight and he laughed a perfectly dreadful laugh, and he said, ‘Now I have it, now I have it!’”
“Oh! who was he?” screamed Joel, flinging himself forward almost into Polly’s lap.