“Was he as big as that?” asked Phronsie, bringing her two fat little hands almost together in intense excitement.
“Yes,” said Polly, “and a little bigger. Well, he was all my own, you know; my grandmother gave him to me.”
“Did you have a grandmother?” asked David. “I thought you were the grandmother,” looking at the big cap with its nodding border.
“Well, so I am, but I had a grandmother too when I was a little girl. Everybody has a grandmother when they’re little.”
“Oh!” said Davie.
“Well, my grandmother gave me this little duck. Now, don’t interrupt again,” said Polly. “You see, he was so little when he was born, that I s’pose he got lost in the grass, and no one saw him; and then the cat must have stepped on him, for his leg was bent, and”—
“What’s bent?” demanded Phronsie, pushing an absorbed little face forward.
“Oh! doubled up like this,” said Joel, suiting the action to the word, and twisting his leg into as much of a knot as was possible.
“Oh, Polly!” said Phronsie gravely, “please don’t let the little duck’s leg be like Joel’s.”
“Well, you’ll see, Phronsie,” said Polly reassuringly. “I’ll fix the little duck’s leg all right. My grandma gave him to me, you know. Well, he was yellow and white, a cunning little ball, oh, so soft and puffy!”