"Hulloa!" said Joel, coming in, "what's the matter, Polly?" Polly
started at his sudden entrance, and, wavering a minute, fell over in
a heap.

"Oh ma! ma!" screamed Joel, running to the foot of the stairs
leading to the loft, where Mrs. Pepper was with Ben; "something's
taken Polly! and she fell; and I guess she's in the wood-box!"

HARD DAYS FOR POLLY

"Ma," said David, coming softly into the bedroom, where poor
Polly lay on the bed with Phronsie, her eyes bandaged with a soft
old handkerchief, "I'll set the table."

"There isn't any table to set," said Mrs. Pepper, sadly; "there isn't
anybody to eat anything, Davie; you and Joel can get something
out of the cupboard."

"Can we get whatever we've a mind to, ma?" cried Joel, who
followed Davie, rubbing his face with a towel after his morning
ablutions.

"Yes," replied his mother, absently.

"Come on, Dave!" cried Joel; "we'll have a breakfast!"

"We mustn't," said little Davie, doubtfully, "eat the whole, Joey."

But that individual already had his head in the cupboard, which
soon engrossed them both.