down. "Nothing's broken," she said at last, and drew a long breath.

"It's there," said Phronsie, through a rain of tears; "and it hurts,
Polly;" and she began to wiggle the big toe, where around the nail
was settling a small black spot.

"Poor little toe," began Polly, cuddling up the suffering foot. Just
then, a small and peculiar noise struck her ear; and looking up she
saw Joel, with a very distorted face, making violent efforts to keep
from bursting out into a loud cry. All his attempts, however, failed;
and he flung himself into Polly's lap in a perfect torrent of tears. "I
didn't--mean to--Polly," he cried; "'twas the--ugly, old hammer! oh
dear!"

"There, there, Joey, dear," said Polly, gathering him up in the other
corner of the old chair, close to her side; "don't feel bad; I know
you didn't mean to," and she dropped a kiss on his stubby black
hair.

When Phronsie saw that anybody else could cry, she stopped
immediately, and leaning over Polly, put one little fat hand on
Joel's neck. "Don't cry," she said; "does your toe ache?"

At this, Joel screamed louder than ever; and Polly was at her wit's
end to know what to do; for the boy's heart was almost broken.
That he should have hurt Phronsie! the baby, the pet of the whole
house, upon whom all their hearts centered--it was too much. So
for the next few moments, Polly had all she could do by way of
comforting and consoling him. Just as she had succeeded, the door
opened, and Grandma Bascom walked in.