So Polly, who dearly loved to dress up and play things, dropped her sewing, and ran off into the bedroom. “There isn’t anything I can tie on that’s like a cap,” she said, coming back, “but this; wasn’t it nice Mamsie had it?” It was a big piece of light brown paper that had done up the last batch of sacks brought home from the store for Mrs. Pepper to sew up.
“Hoh, that isn’t white!” cried Joel in disdain, while the faces of the others fell.
“Well, we must play it’s white,” said Polly. “I’m going to; and all frilled with deep lace, too.”
So the children began to smile with satisfaction once more. If Polly could play it was white and all trimmed with beautiful lace, it was all right.
“Run to the string-bag, one of you children,” said Polly, crinkling up the paper on her head to make it look as much like an old lady’s cap as possible, and nearly putting out one eye with the corner of the paper, “and tie it fast while I hold it on.”
“I will—I will!” cried little Davie, springing off.
“No, I will; I can get it twice as quick!” cried Joe, tumbling after him, and seizing his jacket. Thereupon ensued a scuffle as to which should first reach the string-bag in the Provision Room. [Joel] did, and soon [came racing back] with a very red face, and bearing it triumphantly aloft. “Here ’tis!—I got it, Polly; now I’ll tie you up.”
Polly looked out from under her big paper—“Go and hang that string-bag right up again, Joey,” she said slowly.