covered mall humming to herself,
and trying not to feel homesick. The coasters were at it with all their
might, and she watched them, till her longing to join the fun grew
irresistible. On the hill, some little girls were playing with their
sleds, real little girls, in warm hoods and coats, rubber boots and
mittens, and Polly felt drawn toward them in spite of her fear of Fan.

"I want to go down, but I dars n't, it 's so steep," said one of these
"common children," as Maud called them.

"If you 'll lend me your sled, and sit in my lap, I 'll take you down
all nice," answered Polly, in a confidential tone.

The little girls took a look at her, seemed satisfied, and accepted
her offer. Polly looked carefully round to see that no fashionable eye
beheld the awful deed, and finding all safe, settled her freight, and
spun away down hill, feeling all over the delightsome excitement of
swift motion which makes coasting such a favorite pastime with the more
sensible portion of the child-world. One after another, she took
the little girls down the hill and dragged them up again, while they
regarded her in the light of a gray-coated angel, descended for their
express benefit. Polly was just finishing off with one delicious "go"
all by herself, when she heard a familiar whistle behind her, and before
she could get off, up came Tom, looking as much astonished as if he had
found her mounted, on an elephant.

"Hullo, Polly! What 'll Fan say to you?" was his polished salutation.

"Don't know, and don't care. Coasting is no harm; I like it, and I 'm
going to do it, now I 've got a chance; so clear the lul-la!" And
away went independent Polly, with her hair blowing in the wind, and an
expression of genuine enjoyment, which a very red nose did n't damage in
the least.

"Good for you, Polly!" And casting himself upon his sled, with the most
reckless disregard for his ribs, off whizzed Tom after her, and came
alongside just as she reined up "General Grant" on the broad path below.
"Oh, won't you get it when we go home?" cried the young gentleman, even
before he changed his graceful attitude.

"I shan't, if you don't go and tell; but of course you will," added
Polly, sitting still, while an anxious expression began to steal over
her happy face.

"I just won't, then," returned Tom, with the natural perversity of his
tribe.

"If they ask me, I shall tell, of course; if they don't ask, I think
there 's no harm in keeping still. I sh