"Sit down and rest while I put these things away, then I want to
consult you about a very serious matter," said Amy, when she had shown
her splendor and driven Polly into a corner. "That bird is the trial
of my life," she continued, removing the pink mountain from her head,
while Laurie seated himself astride a chair.

"Yesterday, when Aunt was asleep and I was trying to be as still as a
mouse, Polly began to squall and flap about in his cage, so I went to
let him out, and found a big spider there. I poked it out, and it ran
under the bookcase. Polly marched straight after it, stooped down and
peeped under the bookcase, saying, in his funny way, with a cock of his
eye, 'Come out and take a walk, my dear.' I couldn't help laughing,
which made Poll swear, and Aunt woke up and scolded us both."

"Did the spider accept the old fellow's invitation?" asked Laurie,
yawning.

"Yes, out it came, and away ran Polly, frightened to death, and
scrambled up on Aunt's chair, calling out, 'Catch her! Catch her! Catch
her!' as I chased the spider."

"That's a lie! Oh, lor!" cried the parrot, pecking at Laurie's toes.

"I'd wring your neck if you were mine, you old torment," cried Laurie,
shaking his fist at the bird, who put his head on one side and gravely
croaked, "Allyluyer! bless your buttons, dear!"

"Now I'm ready," said Amy, shutting the wardrobe and taking a piece of
paper out of her pocket. "I want you to read that, please, and tell me
if it is legal and right. I felt I ought to do it, for life is
uncertain and I don't want any ill feeling over my tomb."

Laurie bit his lips, and turning a little from the pensive speaker,
read the following document, with praiseworthy gravity, considering the
spelling:

MY LAST WILL AND TESTIMENT

I, Amy Curtis March, being in my sane mind, go give and bequeethe all
my earthly property--viz. to wit:--namely

To my father, my best pictures, sketches, maps, and works of art,
including frames. Also my $100, to do what he likes with.

To my mother, all my clothes, except the blue apron with pockets--also
my likeness, and my medal, with much love.

To my dear sister Margaret, I give my turkquoise ring (if I get it),
also my green box with the doves on it, also my piece of real lace for
her neck, and my sketch of her as a memorial of her 'little girl'.

To Jo I leave my breastpin, the one mended with sealing wax, also my
bronze inkstand--she lost the cover--and my most preciou