1. "That's a jolly tune! Sing it again, please," cried Tom's voice; and
there was Tom's red head bobbing up over the high back of the chair where
he had hidden himself.

12. It gave Polly quite a turn, for she thought no one was hearing her but
the old lady dozing by the fire. "I can't sing any more; I'm tired," she
said, and walked away to Madam in the other room. The red head vanished
like a meteor, for Polly's tone had been decidedly cool.

13. The old lady put out her hand, and, drawing Polly to her knee, looked
into her face with such kind eyes that Polly forgot the impressive cap,
and smiled at her confidently; for she saw that her simple music had
pleased her listener, and she felt glad to know it.

14. "You mus'n't mind my staring, dear," said Madam, softly pinching her
rosy cheek, "I haven't seen a little girl for so long, it does my old eyes
good to look at you." Polly thought that a very odd speech, and could n't
help saying, "Are n't Fan and Maud little girls, too?"

15. "Oh, dear, no! not what I call little girls. Fan has been a young lady
this two years, and Maud is a spoiled baby. Your mother's a very sensible
woman, my child."

16. "What a queer old lady!" thought Polly; but she said "Yes'm,"
respectfully, and looked at the fire. "You don't understand what I mean,
do you?" asked Madam, still holding her by the chin. "No'm; not quite."

17. "Well, dear, I'll tell you. In my day, children of fourteen and
fifteen did n't dress in the height of the fashion; go to parties as
nearly like those of grown people as it's possible to make them; lead
idle, giddy, unhealthy lives, and get blase' at twenty. We were little
folks till eighteen or so; worked and studied, dressed and played, like
children; honored our parents; and our days were much longer in the land
than now, it seems to me."

18. The old lady appeared to forget Polly, at the end of her speech; for
she sat patting the plump little hand that lay in her own, and looking up
at a faded picture of an old gentleman with a ruffled shirt and a queue.
"Was he your father, Madam?"

19. "Yes, my dear; my honored father. I did up his frills to the day of
his death; and the first money I ever earned, was five dollars which he
offered as a prize to whichever of his six girls would lay the handsomest
darn in his silk stockings."

20. "How proud you must have been!" cried Polly, leaning on the old lady's
knee with an interested face.

21. "Yes; and we all le