"A surprise!" shouted Polly, standing upon tiptoe, to bring her
mouth on a level with the old lady's ear; "a cake, grandma, a big
one!"

"A cake!" exclaimed grandma, dropping the broom to settle her
cap, which Polly in her extreme endeavors to carry on the
conversation, had knocked slightly awry; "well, that'll be fine."

"Yes," said Polly, picking up the broom, and ffinging off her hood
at the same time; "and, oh! won't you please tell me how to make
it, grandma!"

"To be sure; to be sure;" cried the old lady, delighted beyond
measure to give advice; "I've got splendid receets; I'll go get 'em
right off," and she ambled to the door of the pantry.

"And I'll finish sweeping up," said Polly, which grandma didn't
hear; so she took up the broom, and sent it energetically, and
merrily flying away to the tune of her own happy thoughts.

"Yes, they're right in here," said grandma, waddling back with an
old tin teapot in her hand;--"goodness, child! what a dust you've
kicked up! that ain't the way to sweep." And she took the broom
out of Polly's hand, who stood quite still in mortification.

"There," she said, drawing it mildly over the few bits she could
scrape together, and gently coaxing them into a little heap; "that's
the way; and then they don't go all over the room.