"Joel!" screamed Polly, "get up this minute, and don't you go
upside down again! Mamsie wouldn't like it. Get up, I say!"

"Pooh! that's nothing," again declared Joel, slowly flopping
over to lie still on the grass. Then he began to slap his legs
up and down. "Ain't I dreadful strong, Polly? Ain't I?"

"And your face is dreadfully red," said Polly; "I shouldn't
wonder if sometime you burst a blood vessel in you, if you do
that perfectly awful thing."

"How could it burst?" cried Joel. "Tell me, Polly," bringing his
legs down quite still to hear the answer. "Tell me, Polly."

"You'd know, I guess," answered Polly. "Don't, Joel, you make me
feel as if I sh'd fly to even think of it, and here I ought to
be sewing every single minute." Just then the bedroom door
opened, and out walked David, dewy-eyed, and with very pink
cheeks. "Did you call, Polly?" he asked; "I heard you say something."

"Now you've gone and waked Davie up," exclaimed Polly, in a tone
of great vexation.

"Goody!" screamed Joel, "now you will let him go fishing, won't
you?" And he jumped to his feet and ran to the window to thrust
his stubby head over the sill. "Dave, Dave, come out an' see the
lot o' worms I've dug."

"No," said Polly, feeling dreadfully at the sight of David's