Oh, Mamsie!" She reached over and threw both
arms around her mother and hugged her tightly.
"Yes, I know, Polly," said Mother Fisher, holding her big girl to her
heart, "and we must look out for other people's boys; that's what you
mean to say, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Polly, happy that Mamsie always understood, "and now that
Ben's and Joel's and David's box is off, why, I wish we could, Mamsie,
send the other one."
"I really think it can be done," said Mrs. Fisher, "but I must ask your
father first. And now, daughter, go to sleep, like Phronsie." She
glanced over at the other little bed, where Phronsie's yellow head was
lost in dreams.
"You know we are going to Marken tomorrow."
"I know," said Polly, with a happy little wriggle under the bedclothes.
"And it never would do for you to be all tired out in the morning. That
would be very unkind to dear Mr. King, who is trying so hard to make us
all happy," continued Mrs. Fisher.
"I know," said Polly, again. "Well, good night, Mamsie." She set three
or four kisses on Mother Fisher's cheek, then turned over, with her
face to the wall.
"I'll shut the door until you get to sleep, Polly," said Mrs. Fisher,
"then I will open it again," as she went out.
As Mother Fisher had said, they were going to the Island of Marken
to-morrow; and Polly tumbled asleep with her head full of all the strange
things they were to see there, and that Jasper and she had been reading
about,--how the people wore the same kind of funny costume that their
great-great-ever-so-many-times great-grandfathers and grandmothers had
worn; and how the houses were of different colours, and built in
different layers or mounds of land, with cunning little windows and
scarcely any stairs; and how they were going in the haying season when
everybody would be out raking up and gleaning--and--and--Polly was
completely lost in her happy dreams.
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