“Yes, indeed; I’m all rested now,” declared Polly; “and if I don’t tell that story I shall feel very badly indeed, Joey Pepper.”
So Joel, feeling that it was quite right to be glad that the story was to be told, since Polly had said that she should feel badly if she didn’t tell it, gave another whoop of delight, and scuttled back to crowd in next to Polly, while the others settled down in great satisfaction, and Polly began in her cheeriest fashion.
“Well, you must know, boys, that we used to have just the best times in The Little Brown House the minute it began to be winter, and the snow commenced to fall, and we could look out and see it all, and plan what we could do.”
“And you could get your sleds out,” burst in Van—“And go sleighing too,” said Percy.
“Oh, we didn’t have sleds!” said Polly quickly; “at least, only one that Ben made us.”
“Didn’t have sleds!” exclaimed the Whitney boys.
“I helped,” said Joel sturdily; “and so did Dave.”
“Well, I guess it wouldn’t have been much of a sled unless Ben had made it,” said Polly, looking up at Ben affectionately. “But you two boys did help, though,” she made haste to add, as she saw their faces.
“And we couldn’t go coasting only when we had all our work done,” Polly went on, “because, you see, we were poor, and that was play.”
There was silence for the space of a moment, it being quite beyond the power of the Whitney boys to say anything. “But when Mamsie did let us go, oh, it was perfectly splendid!” and Polly’s cheeks grew rosy red, and her eyes kindled in delight at the remembrance.