“Yes,” said Polly, dashing on quickly; “and what do you think I saw when I went to bed with Mamsie?”
“What—what?” cried the boys.
“Why Phronsie in the trundle-bed; one shoe was held tightly in her well hand, but the other, she couldn’t hold it very well, you know, because of the cut thumb, [and there it was, tumbled right down over her nose.]”
[And there was the shoe tumbled right over her nose.]
[XVIII.]
THE OLD GRAY GOOSE.
“You promised,” cried Van in a loud, vindictive voice. “Now, Polly Pepper, you did, just as true as anything.”