"Yes," said Polly; "no, not truly Polly; it's Mary, my real name
is--but I've always been Polly."

"I like Polly best, too," declared Jasper, "it sounds so nice."

"And his name is Ben," said Polly.

"Ebenezer, you mean," said Ben, correcting her.

"Well, we call him Ben," said Polly; "it don't ever seem as if there
was any Ebenezer about it."

"I should think not," laughed Jasper.

"Well, I must get Phronsie," again said Polly, running back into the
bedroom, where that small damsel was busily engaged in washing
"Baby" in the basin of water that she had with extreme difficulty
succeeded in getting down on the floor. She had then, by means of
a handful of soft soap, taken from Polly's soap-bowl during the
dish-washing, and a bit of old cotton, plastered both herself and
"Baby" to a comfortable degree of stickiness.

"Phronsie," said Polly--"dear me! what you doing? the big dog's out
there, you know, that scared the naughty organ-man; and the
boy"--but before the words were half out, Phronsie had slipped
from under her hands, and to Polly's extreme dismay, clattered out
into the kitchen.

"Here she is!" cried Jasper, meeting her at the door. The little
soapy hands were grasped, and kissing her--"Ugh!" he said, as the