"
"You'd better go to sleep now, then," said Mrs. Fisher, wisely, "if you
want to be bright and ready really to see much of Holland in the
morning, Polly."
"That's so," answered Polly, ducking back her head to its pillow, and
wriggling her toes in satisfaction; "Phronsie is asleep already, isn't
she, Mamsie?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Fisher, "she dropped off as soon as her head touched
the pillow. Good night, Polly, you would better do the same."
"Good night, Mamsie," said Polly, with a sleepy little yawn, "and good
night, dear Mrs. Henderson," she added, already almost in dreamland.
VII
OFF FOR HOLLAND
It seemed to Polly as if she had only breathed twice, and had not
turned over once, when there was Mamsie's voice calling her, and there
was Mamsie's face looking into hers over the edge of the berth. "Wake
up, Polly, child, you have only about ten minutes to dress in."
"O dear me! what--where?" exclaimed Polly, springing to a sitting
position, thereby giving her brown head a smart thump on the ceiling of
the berth, "where are we, Mamsie? why, it is the middle of the night,
isn't it?" she cried, not stopping to pity her poor head.
"We are almost at the Hook of Holland," said Mrs. Fisher, busily
buttoning Phronsie's shoes. Phronsie sat on the lower berth, her sleepy
little legs dangling over the edge, and her sleepy little head going
nid-nodding, despite all her efforts to keep herself awake.
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