asked if anything was the matter. "Pooh! who cares for a
countrified little thing like her," said Tom manfully to himself; and
then the spirit of mischief entered in and took possession of him.

"He 's pretty drunk; but I guess he can hold his horses," replied this
evil-minded boy, with an air of calm resignation.

"Is the man tipsy? Oh, dear! let 's get out! Are the horses bad? It 's
very steep here; do you think it 's safe?" cried poor Polly, making a
cocked hat of her little beaver, by thrusting it out of the half-open
window on her side.

"There 's plenty of folks to pick us up if anything happens; but
perhaps it would be safer if I got out and sat with the man;" and
Tom quite beamed with the brilliancy of this sudden mode of
relief.

"Oh, do, if you ain't afraid! Mother would be so anxious if
anything should happen to me, so far away!" cried Polly, much
distressed.

"Don't you be worried. I 'll manage the old chap, and the horses
too;" and opening the door, Tom vanished aloft, leaving poor
victimized Polly to quake inside, while he placidly revelled in
freedom and peanuts outside, with the staid old driver.

Fanny came flying down to meet her "darling Polly," as Tom
presented her, with the graceful remark, "I 've got her!" and the air
of a dauntless hunter, producing the trophies of his skill. Polly was
instantly whisked up stairs; and having danced a double-shuffle on