them to take care of than the old woman that lived in a shoe. Now
what's the reason things are so mixed up, I'd like to know."

"I can't see why myself," said Molly, tucking in the robe about
herself and her cousin. "Maybe, if we knew all about it, they
aren't as mixed up as they seem."

"Yes, they are," Katharine insisted. "If they weren't, some people
wouldn't have everything, and some go without, as they do. I don't
suppose there is much of anything in the world I couldn't do, if I
wanted to, and tried hard enough for it; but everybody isn't so."

"I have sort of an idea," answered Molly profoundly, "that most
everybody can get what she wants, if she is willing to work and
wait long enough. It's only a question of what you want."

CHAPTER X.

POLLY'S POEM.

"Molly, don't you want to come and take a walk with me?" asked
Polly, appearing in the door one Saturday morning.

Molly sprang up and tossed her book down on the table.

"Yes, indeed I do. It's too pleasant to stay in the house such a
day as this. I'll go and call the others."

"But I don't want the others, at least, not this morning," said
Polly mysteriously. "I want you all to myself, for I've something