s ache dreadfully--and--"

"Been crying!" repeated Mrs. Pepper, coming up to poor Polly. "Polly
been crying!" she still repeated.

"Oh, mammy, I couldn't help it," said Polly; "she said--" and in spite
of all she could do, the rain of tears began again, which bade fair to
be as uncontrolled as before. But Mrs. Pepper took her up firmly in her
arms, as if she were Phronsie, and sat down in the old rocking-chair and
just patted her back.

"There, there," she whispered, soothingly, "don't think of it, Polly;
mother's got home."

"Oh, mammy," said Polly, crawling up to the comfortable neck for
protection, "I ought not to mind; but 'twas Miss Jerusha Henderson; and
she said--"

"What did she say?" asked Mrs. Pepper, thinking perhaps it to be the
wiser thing to let Polly free her mind.

"Oh, she said that we ought to be doing something; and I ought to knit,
and--"

"Go on," said her mother.

"And then Joel got naughty; oh, mammy, he never did so before; and I
couldn't stop him," cried Polly, in great distress; "I really couldn't,
mammy--and he talked to her; and he told her she wasn't ever coming here
again."

"Joel shouldn't have said that," said Mrs. Pepper, and under her breath
something was added that Polly even failed to hear--"but no more she
isn't!"

"And, mammy," cried Polly--and she flung her arms around her mother's
neck and gave her a grasp that nearly choked Mrs. Pepper, "ain't I
helpin' you some, mammy? Oh! I wish I could do something big for you?
Ain't you happy, mammy?"

"For the land's sakes!" cried Mrs. Pepper, straining Polly to her heart,
"whatever has that woman--whatever could she have said to you? Such a
girl as you are, too!" cried Mrs. Pepper, hugging Polly, and covering
her with kisses so tender, that Polly, warmed and cuddled up to her
heart's content, was comforted to the full.

"Well," said Mrs. Pepper, when at last she thought she had formed
between Polly and Joel about the right idea of the visit, "well, now we
won't think of it, ever any more; 'tisn't worth it, Polly, you know."

But poor Polly! and poor mother! They both were obliged to think of it.
Nothing could avert the suffering of the next few days, caused by that
long flow of burning tears.

"Nothing feels good on 'em, mammy," said Polly, at last, twisting her
hands in the vain attempt to keep from rubbing the aching, inflamed eyes
that drove her nearly wild with their itching, "there isn't any use in
trying anything."