"Oh, if you knew granddaddy!" And he sank into a chair by the
table, and played with the heap of picture postal cards that Polly was
going to address next.
"We might," said Polly, slowly, "write a letter, all of us. A kind of a
Round Robin thing, you know, and send that."
"So we could," cried Jasper; "how would that do, Tom?"
"The very thing!" exclaimed Tom, striking his hand so heavily on the
table, that for a minute it looked as if the ink-bottle hopped.
"Take care, there's no reason you should knock things over because you
are overjoyed," cried Jasper, gaily. "Well, let's leave our letters
to-day, Polly, and set to on the Round Robin."
"All right," said Polly, glad to think there was anything she could
really do to please the little old earl, "but would your mother like
it, Tom?" She stopped slowly in putting her unfinished letter into the
little writing-case, and looked at him.
"If you think there's a shadow of doubt on that score, I'd best run and
ask her now." Tom got himself out of the chair, and himself from the
room, and in an incredibly short space of time, back there he was. "My
mother says, 'Thank Polly for thinking of it; it will do father more
good than anything else could possibly do.'"
"I don't suppose you want any more answer," said Tom, quite radiant,
and looking down at Polly.
"No, only I didn't think first of it," said Polly, in a distressed
little tone.
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