Dr. Fisher untied the bandage, "my eyes are new! just the same as
if I'd just got 'em! Don't they look different?" she asked, earnestly,
running to the cracked glass to see for herself.

"No," said Ben, "I hope not; the same brown ones, Polly."

"Well," said Polly, hugging first one and then another, "everybody
looks different through them, anyway."

"Oh," cried Joel, "come out into the kitchen, Polly; it's a great deal
better out there."

"May I?" asked Polly, who was in such a twitter looking at
everything that she didn't know which way to turn.

"Yes," said the doctor, smiling at her.

"Well, then," sang Polly, "come mammy, we'll go first; isn't it just
lovely--oh, MAMMY!"--and Polly turned so very pale, and looked
as if she were going to tumble right over, that Mrs. Pepper grasped
her arm in dismay.

"What is it?" she asked, pointing to the corner, while all the
children stood round in the greatest excitement.

"Why," cried Phronsie, "it's a stove--don't you know, Polly?" But
Polly gave one plunge across the room, and before anybody could
think, she was down on her knees with her arms flung right around
the big, black thing, and laughing and crying over it, all in the
same breath!