“It’s better than tea, to see all you children,” cried Mamsie brightly. But nobody dared ask her if she had any coats and sacks to sew; for there wasn’t any big bundle, and Polly sighed and looked at Ben.
[IV.]
THE LITTLE TIN SOLDIERS.
“You must know,” said Polly, “that they had cake every day, little cunning ones, and Sundays they had pink on top of ’em.”
Nobody spoke. At last Joel managed to ask, sitting on the edge of his chair, “On every single one of the cakes, Polly Pepper?”
“Yes,” said Polly decidedly; “every single one of ’em Joey.”
“Not every Sunday?” asked Joel incredulously.
“Yes, every single Sunday; as surely as Sunday came around,” declared Polly in her most decisive fashion. “They didn’t miss once.”
“Now, I know you aren’t telling us true things,” cried Joel in a loud, insistent tone; “’cause no one ever has cake every day, and pink on top every Sunday. So there, Polly Pepper!”