"Now, that's a good girl," cried Polly, reaching out her arms to
catch her, and nearly smothering her with kisses. "Whatever
should I do without you, Phronsie, pet? I'm sure I don't know."

"You couldn't do without me, could you, Polly?" cried Phronsie,
very much pleased as Polly let her go and flew back to her
sewing again.

"No in-_deed_!" cried Polly, warmly. "There, take Davie's
hand, and both of you go into the bedroom like good children,
and shut the door and go to sleep. That's nice!" and she smiled
approvingly at them as they disappeared.

Joel cried on and on, his tears trailing off into the grass,
till at last, as Polly took no notice of him, he raised his head
to look in at the window at her. She didn't seem to see him, but
sewed on and on quite composedly, as if Joel were not there. So
he finally jumped up, and seeing his tin pail overturned on its
side, he hurried to investigate.

"Oh, my worms have all run off!" he shouted. "Polly, the bad old
things have every single one of 'em run away!" and he beat the
bottom of the pail with the broken iron spoon in his vexation.

"Joel Pepper!" cried Polly, a little red spot coming in either
cheek as she flung down her work on the floor by Phronsie's
calico bit, "that's twice you've made a most awful noise; now
you'll wake Davie up again, you bad, naughty boy," and without
stopping to think, she dashed out doors, and before Joel could