"
"Oh, I don't know," said Polly, at her wit's end.
"But we must think of something," said Jasper desperately, and fumbling the
letters.
Polly's eye fell on his restless fingers.
"We might sort them out, the letters, and tie them up in little packages to
take out to the post office."
"The very thing!" cried Jasper enthusiastically. "Here, all you good
people"--he whirled around--"if you want to help, please sit down, and
we'll get this mess of letters sorted and tied up into bundles." He waved
his hands over his head, and of course everybody stopped talking at once.
"Oh, whickets!" Joel screamed; then he caught Polly's eye, and his chubby
face took on a lively red. "Let me--let me!" He crammed himself in between
Jasper and the table.
"Hold on!" commanded Jasper, "not so fast, Joe," and he seized Joel's brown
hands just grabbing a big pile.
"Wait till Jasper tells us how to begin," said Polly, her brown eyes
dancing at the prospect of something to do.
"Oh, dear!" whimpered Joel, stamping in his impatience. The Whitney boys
were crowding up close behind. "Do hurry up, Jasper," they teased.
"Well, how shall we begin, Polly?" Jasper wrinkled up his brows in
perplexity.
"Let's ask Miss Mary," said Polly. So Jasper called, "Miss Mary!" but she
didn't seem to hear, which perhaps wasn't so very strange, after all, as
Mr.
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