provisions in, even if we haven't any; and besides," she always
finished, "it sounds nice!"

"Come on, Dave! then we'll get something to eat!"

So the cinnamon was handed up, and then Joel flew back to Davie.

And now, Polly's cake was done, and ready for the oven. With
many admiring glances from herself, and Phronsie, who with
Seraphina, an extremely old but greatly revered doll, tightly
hugged in her arms was watching everything with the biggest of
eyes from the depths of the old chair, it was placed in the oven, the
door shut to with a happy little bang, then Polly gathered Phronsie
up in her arms, and sat down in the chair to have a good time with
her and to watch the process of cooking.

There was a bumping noise that came from the "Provision Room"
that sounded ominous, and then a smothered sound of words,
followed by a scuffling over the old floor.

"Boys!" called Polly. No answer; everything was just as still as a
mouse. "Joel and David!" called Polly again, in her loudest tones.

"Yes," came up the crooked stairs, in Davie's voice.

"Come up here, right away!" went back again from Polly. So up
the
stairs trudged the two boys, and presented themselves rather
sheepishly before the big chair.