"No, not forever-an'-ever," said Polly; "take care, Phronsie! there
goes a potato; no, we'd keep 'em always!"

"No, you don't want to," said Mrs. Pepper, coming out of the
bedroom in time to catch the last words; "they won't be good
to-morrow; better have them to-night, Polly."

"Ma'am!" said Polly, setting down her potato-dish on the table, and
staring at her mother with all her might--"have what, mother?"

"Why, the potatoes, to be sure," replied Mrs. Pepper; "didn't you
say you better keep them, child?"

"Twasn't potatoes--at all," said Polly, with a little gasp; "twas--dear
me! here's Ben!" For the door opened, and Phronsie, with a scream
of delight, bounded into Ben's arms.

"It's just jolly," said Ben, coming in, his chubby face all aglow, and
his big blue eyes shining so honest and true; "it's just jolly to get
home! supper ready, Polly?"

"Yes," said Polly; "that is--all but--" and she dashed off for
Phronsie's eating apron.

"Sometime," said Phronsie, with her mouth half full, when the
meal was nearly over, "we're going to be awful rich; we are, Ben,
truly!"

"No?" said Ben, affecting the most hearty astonishment; "you don't
say so, Chick!"