birds on your aprons, as you have been doing. Your grandmother
used to make us sew patchwork; and before I was your age, I had
pieced up three bedquilts,--one rising-sun, one fox-chase, and the
other just plain boxes."

"I don't care," Polly interrupted saucily; "I never could see the
use of cutting up yards and yards of calico, just for the sake of
sewing it together again. Wouldn't you rather have me make you a
pretty apron, Jerusalem?" And she leaned over to pat her mother's
cheek affectionately, as she added, "And besides, Molly's gone
home."

"Has she?" asked Mrs. Adams, in some surprise. "I thought she was
going to spend the day."

Polly blushed a little.

"So she was," she admitted at length; "but she changed her mind."

Mrs. Adams looked at her little daughter inquiringly for a moment,
and seemed about to speak, but catching the eye of Aunt Jane, who
was watching them sharply, she only said,--

"I am sorry; for I wanted to send a pattern to Mrs. Hapgood, when
she went home, and now I shall have to wait."

"I'll take it over now, mamma; I'd just as soon." And Polly jumped
up and caught her sailor hat from the table where she had tossed
it.