anks to his
neglected education, was as ignorant as herself of the charms of this
new amusement for school-children. So Polly tried to console herself
by jumping rope in the back-yard, and playing tag with Maud in the
drying-room, where she likewise gave lessons in "nas-gim-nics," as Maud
called it, which did that little person good. Fanny came up sometimes
to teach them a new dancing step, and more than once was betrayed into
a game of romps, for which she was none the worse. But Tom turned a cold
shoulder to Polly, and made it evident, by his cavalier manner that he
really did n't think her "worth a sixpence."

Another thing that troubled Polly was her clothes, for, though no one
said anything, she knew they were very plain; and now and then she
wished that her blue and mouse colored merinos were rather more trimmed,
her sashes had bigger bows, and her little ruffles more lace on them.
She sighed for a locket, and, for the first time in her life, thought
seriously of turning up her pretty curls and putting on a "wad." She
kept these discontents to herself, however, after she had written to ask
her mother if she might have her best dress altered like Fanny's, and
received this reply: "No, dear; the dress is proper and becoming as it
is, and the old fashion of simplicity the best for all of us. I don't
want my Polly to be loved for her clothes, but for herself; so wear the
plain frocks mother took such pleasure in making for you, and let the
panniers go. The least of us have some influence in this big world;
and perhaps my little girl can do some good by showing others that a
contented heart and a happy face are better ornaments than any Paris can
give her. You want a locket, deary; so I send one that my mother gave me
years ago. You will find father's face on one side, mine on the other;
and when things trouble you, just look at your talisman, and I think the
sunshine will come back again."

Of course it did, for the best of all magic was shut up in the quaint
little case that Polly wore inside her frock, and kissed so tenderly
each night and morning. The thought that, insignificant as she was, she
yet might do some good, made her very careful of her acts and words, and
so anxious to keep head contented and face happy, that she forgot her
clothes, and made others do the same. She did not know it, but that good
old fashion of simplicity made the plain gowns pretty, and the grace of
unconsciousness beautified their litt