"
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed old Mr. King, in dismay, "this is a pretty state
of things! Polly, my child"--he leaned over her--"can't you think up
something to get us out of it?"
"I'm going to talk about the garden party," cried Polly, an inspiration
seizing her. "Oh, Phronsie, now you must sit up; you can't think what plans
we have for it." But Phronsie burrowed deeper in her nest.
"If you don't sit up, Phronsie," said Polly quite decidedly, "I shall have
to put you off from my lap, and go out of the room."
"Oh, no, no, Polly!" cried Phronsie, clutching her around the neck.
"Yes, I shall, Phronsie," declared Polly, in her most decided fashion, "so
you must sit right up, and hear all about it. Now, Jasper, you begin."
So Phronsie sat up and let Polly wipe her face; and then she folded her
hands in her lap, while Jasper began:
"You see that we thought that we'd take the Wistaria arbor, Father, if
you'd let us, for our post office. May we?"
"Yes, yes, certainly," said the old gentleman, who would have been quite
willing to promise anything just then.
"Oh, that's no end jolly!" cried Jasper, throwing back his dark hair from
his forehead with a quick thrust. "Now we can do splendidly. Polly, only
think!" His eyes shone, and Polly screamed out, "Oh, Grandpapa, how
lovely!" and the others joined in, not quite knowing what they were so
happy about, until Joel popped up his head from his mother's lap to hear
what all the noise was about over there.
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