than any words, and they went on
together, hand in hand, through the "soft-falling snow."

If Polly could have seen what went into that top tray, she would have
been entirely overcome; for Fanny had told grandma about the poor little
presents she had once laughed at, and they had all laid their heads
together to provide something really fine and appropriate for every
member of the Milton family. Such a mine of riches! and so much
good-will, affection, and kindly forethought was packed away in the
tempting bundles, that no one could feel offended, but would find an
unusual charm about the pretty gifts that made them doubly welcome. I
only know that if Polly had suspected that a little watch was ticking
away in a little case, with her name on it, inside that trunk, she never
could have left it locked as grandma advised, or have eaten her dinner
so quietly. As it was, her heart was very full, and the tears rose to
her eyes more than once, everyone was so kind, and so sorry to have her
go.

Tom did n't need any urging to play escort now; and both Fan and Maud
insisted on going too. Mrs. Shaw forgot her nerves, and put up some
ginger-bread with her own hands; Mr. Shaw kissed Polly as if she had
been his dearest daughter; and grandma held her close, whispering in a
tremulous tone, "My little comfort, come again soon"; while Katy waved
her apron from the nursery window, crying, as they drove, away, "The
saints bless ye, Miss Polly, dear, and sind ye the best of lucks!"

But the crowning joke of all was Tom's good-by, for, when Polly was
fairly settled in the car, the last "All aboard!" uttered, and the train
in motion, Tom suddenly produced a knobby little bundle, and thrusting
it in at the window, while he hung on in some breakneck fashion, said,
with a droll mixture of fun and feeling in his face, "It 's horrid;
but you wanted it, so I put it in to make you laugh. Good-by, Polly;
good-by, good-by!"

The last adieu was a trifle husky, and Tom vanished as it was uttered,
leaving Polly to laugh over his parting souvenir till the tears ran down
her cheeks. It was a paper bag of peanuts, and poked down at the very
bottom a photograph of Tom. It was "horrid," for he looked as if taken
by a flash of lightning, so black, wild, and staring was it; but Polly
liked it, and whenever she felt a little pensive at parting with her
friends, she took a peanut, or a peep at Tom's funny picture, which made
her merry again.

So the short