V
MRS. BIDDY CHICK
When Quon Wo decided that the ducklings were old enough, they were allowed to swim. But Polly never let them go to the pond alone. She went with them, and stood on dry land, watching their graceful motions. She seemed to feel ashamed not to swim herself; but she knew there was something the matter with her feet, so she never tried to learn.
“I don’t want Judy to catch any of those ducklings,” said Jimmy; “Judy’s horrid sometimes.”
“Will Punch catch any, do you think?” asked Mr. Sanford.
“Punch!” cried Jimmy indignantly. “Punch isn’t horrid; he’s good.”
“He’s a nice shepherd dog,” said Mr. Sanford, patting the animal’s head. “But he’s young yet. Let me see, how long have you had Punch?”
“Don’t you remember, Mr. Sanford? I should think you’d remember. ’Twas that time I had the toothache, and Aunt Vi made some walnut creams. It ached and ached. Mamma said I must go to the dentist. I didn’t like to; I was afraid. But Aunt Vi said, ‘Now you go with me, Jimmy, and I’ll write and tell Mr. Sanford.’ ’Twas when you were gone. Where were you gone, Mr. Sanford?”
“I was at Los Angeles.”
“Well, so I went to the dentist with Auntie. She said I was brave. Boys don’t cry, you know; not much. The thing the dentist pulled with was as sharp as the head of a pin,—no, the point of a pin. But when the tooth came out it never ached any more after that.