"It's measles," he pronounced, "that's all; no cause for alarm; you
ever had it?" he asked, turning suddenly around on Polly, who was
watching with wide-open eyes for the verdict.

"No, sir," answered Polly, not knowing in the least what "measles"
was.

"What shall we do!" said Mrs. Pepper; "there haven't any of them
had it."

The doctor was over by the little old table under the window,
mixing up some black-looking stuff in a tumbler, and he didn't
hear her.

"There," he said, putting a spoonful into Phronsie's mouth, "she'll
get along well enough; only keep her out of the cold." Then he
pulled out a big silver watch. He was a little thin man, and the
watch was immense. Polly for her life couldn't keep her eyes off
from it; if Ben could only have one so fine!

"Polly," whispered Mrs. Pepper, "run and get my purse; it's in the
top bureau drawer."

"Yes'm," said Polly, taking her eyes off, by a violent wrench, from
the fascinating watch; and she ran quickly and got the little old
stocking-leg, where the hard earnings that staid long enough to be
put anywhere, always found refuge. She put it into her mother's
lap, and watched while Mrs. Pepper counted out slowly one dollar
in small pieces.