Polly wanted everything just right, and was very particular about
things.

"Now, Dave." Ben held his hand, and "David" went down next to
Joel.

But when it was Phronsie's turn, she protested that Polly, and no
one else, must hold her hand.

"It's a dreadful hard name to write--Phronsie is," said Polly, as she
guided Phronsie's fat little hand that clung faithfully to the stubby
old pen. "There, it's over now," she cried; "and I'm thankful! I
wouldn't write another for anything!"

"Read it all over now, Ben," cried Mrs. Pepper, "and don't speak,
children, till he gets through."

"Don't it sound elegant!" said Polly, clasping her hands, when he
had finished. "I didn't think we ever could do it so nice, did you,
Ben?"

"No, indeed, I didn't," replied Ben, in a highly ecstatic frame of
mind. "Now--oh! what'll we do for an envelope?" he asked in
dismay.

"You'll have to do without that," said Mrs. Pepper, "for there isn't
any in the house--but see here, children," she added, as she saw the
sorry faces before her--"you just fold up the letter, and put it inside
the parcel; that'll be just as good."