e next few moments nothing was
heard but the pulling out of the old table into the middle of the floor,
the laying the cloth, and all the other bustle attendant upon the
being ready for Ben. Polly went skipping around, cutting the bread,
and bringing dishes; only stopping long enough to fling some scraps of
reassuring nonsense to the two boys, who were thoroughly dismayed at
being obliged to remove their traps into a corner.

Phronsie still stood just where Polly left her. Two hundred candles! oh!
what could it mean! She gazed up to the old beams overhead, and around
the dingy walls, and to the old black stove, with the fire nearly out,
and then over everything the kitchen contained, trying to think how it
would seem. To have it bright and winsome and warm! to suit Polly--"oh!"
she screamed.

"Goodness!" said Polly, taking her head out of the old cupboard in the
corner, "how you scared me, Phronsie!"

"Would they ever go out?" asked the child gravely, still standing where
Polly left her.

"What?" asked Polly, stopping with a dish of cold potatoes in her hand.
"What, Phronsie?"

"Why, the candles," said the child, "the ever-an'-ever so many pretty
lights!"

"Oh, my senses!" cried Polly, with a little laugh, "haven't you
forgotten that! Yes--no, that is, Phronsie, if we could have 'em at all,
we wouldn't ever let 'em go out!"

"Not once?" asked Phronsie, coming up to Polly with a little skip, and
nearly upsetting her, potatoes and all--"not once, Polly, truly?"

"No, not forever-an'-ever," said Polly; "take care, Phronsie! there goes
a potato; no, we'd keep 'em always!"

"No, you don't want to," said Mrs. Pepper, coming out of the bedroom in
time to catch the last words; "they won't be good to-morrow; better have
them to-night, Polly."

"Ma'am!" said Polly, setting down her potato-dish on the table, and
staring at her mother with all her might--"have what, mother?"

"Why, the potatoes, to be sure," replied Mrs. Pepper; "didn't you say
you better keep them, child?"

"Twasn't potatoes--at all," said Polly, with a little gasp; "twas--dear
me! here's Ben!" For the door opened, and Phronsie, with a scream of
delight, bounded into Ben's arms.

"It's just jolly," said Ben, coming in, his chubby face all aglow, and
his big blue eyes shining so honest and true; "it's just jolly to get
home! supper ready, Polly?"

"Yes," said Polly; "that is--all but--" and she dashed off for
Phronsie's eating apron.

"Sometime