"He must have gone up into this tree. But I cannot see him anywhere. Perhaps he lives in that old nest up there. He may have watched us eat our dinner."
"Good-by, Mr. White-foot," called Polly. "We are sorry not to see you. We are going home now."
Down the hill through the quiet woods they went. Polly had the big knapsack over her shoulder. It was quite empty now, and not at all heavy. Peter ran ahead.
At the door, Polly said, "Thank you, father, for our good time. It is the best picnic that I ever had."
THE SEWING LESSON
"Mother," said Polly one day, "I wish I could sew something real. I am tired of my patchwork. I wish I could make a dress for my doll. She needs a new dress."
"Then you shall try it, Polly. Go to the drawer in the sewing table. You will find a pattern at the back of the drawer. It is for you."
"O mother!" said Polly. "How did you think of it?"