“Then I want my Teddy.”
“See this!” said mamma: “it is a picture-book Billy Barstow just sent you.”
But it happened to be the story of Red Riding Hood; and Pollio threw away the book with a shudder.
“I’m going to bring in the little clock from my room, and set it on the mantel, so he can watch the hands,” said aunt Ann.
“It isn’t hands, it’s fingers,” said Pollio, determined not to be pleased.
“Well, fingers, then.”
Aunt Ann was a small lady, with a pleasant voice and sweet smile. Posy looked like her. She set the clock on the mantel; and it was a comfort to Pollio, for it gave him a chance to ask endless questions.
“What makes the long finger go faster than the little finger? What time is it now? What time will it be in five minutes? What time will it be to-morrow morning?”
Aunt Ann replied to all these foolish inquiries very kindly, and told Mrs. Pitcher she thought Pollio must be better, or he would not wish to talk.