"Oh, Polly, that's a capital name," said Jasper. "So shall I call it
the 'Cheesery' in my journal. Look at the rows and rows of them,
Polly."
"And how round and yellow they are," said Polly; "just like pumpkins,
aren't they? Wouldn't it be fine if we could take some home, to send to
Badgertown? Dear Mrs. Beebe is so fond of cheese, Jasper."
"It is a pity; but we couldn't take cheeses very well. Fancy our
trunks, Polly!" He wrinkled up his face; at sight of it Polly laughed
merrily.
"No, of course not," she said; "but oh, how fine they look!"
"Grandpapa, I'd like to buy one," said Phronsie, overhearing a bit of
this, and opening her little bag that hung on her arm, to get her
purse.
"What in the world can you do with a Dutch cheese, child?" exclaimed
old Mr. King.
"But I would like to buy one," persisted Phronsie. And after much
diving Phronsie produced the little silk purse--"Polly wants one,
Grandpapa," she got up on her tiptoes to whisper confidentially.
"Oh, is that it?" said Mr. King. "Well, now, Phronsie, I don't really
believe Polly wants one. You would better ask her. If she wants one you
shall buy it for her."
So Phronsie ran off. "Do you, Polly? Do you?" then she gently pulled
Polly's sleeve to make her hear, for Polly and Jasper were hanging on
the description that the man in attendance was pouring forth.
"Do I what?" cried Polly, only half understanding, and lost in the
thought of how much fun it must be to make little yellow cheeses, and
set them up in rows to be taken to market.
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