Clem jerked up her head
from the table, and raised a defiant pair of cheeks, wet and miserable.
"Oh, dear, dear!" was all Polly could get out. But she stumbled in and put
her arms around her neck, and down went the two heads together.
"I'm awfully sorry," blubbered Clem. "Oh, dear! I forgot my handkerchief."
"Take mine." Polly put a wet little wad into her hand. "Oh, Clem, if you
don't let me go down-town with you and buy that handkerchief case!"
"Let you!" cried Clem. "You won't want to go with me, Polly. But I'm not
going to work a handkerchief case."
"Oh, yes, you are," declared Polly positively. "If you don't, Clem
Forsythe!"
"It was mean in me to choose it," said Clem, beginning to sniffle again,
now that she had a handkerchief.
"Oh, no, no!" said Polly in alarm. "Now I know you won't forgive me when
you say such things. For it was all my fault; I was stingy mean to want to
keep it to myself."
"You aren't ever mean, Polly Pepper!" Clem hugged her so tightly by the
neck that the neat little ruffle Mamsie sewed in that very morning was
quite crushed. When she saw that, Clem was in worse distress than ever.
"See here! Why, Clem Forsythe!" Polly Pepper flew up to her feet so
suddenly, that Clem started in amazement, and stared at her as well as she
could with her eyes full of tears.
"Why, can't you see? Haven't we been two goosies--geese, I mean--not to
think of it before!"
"What?" asked Clem helplessly.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53