Mrs. Fisher stopped and thought a bit, "A very good idea, Polly," she
said, "and I'm glad you thought of it. I'll speak to your father and
see if he approves, before we say anything to Mr. King."

"You see," said Polly, rolling over to get hold of one of Mother
Fisher's hands, and speaking very fast, "of course the Henderson boys
are having a good time at dear Deacon Blodgett's, but then their mother
and father are away off. Oh, Mamsie!" She reached over and threw both
arms around her mother and hugged her tightly.

"Yes, I know, Polly," said Mother Fisher, holding her big girl to her
heart, "and we must look out for other people's boys; that's what you
mean to say, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Polly, happy that Mamsie always understood, "and now that
Ben's and Joel's and David's box is off, why, I wish we could, Mamsie,
send the other one."

"I really think it can be done," said Mrs. Fisher, "but I must ask your
father first. And now, daughter, go to sleep, like Phronsie." She
glanced over at the other little bed, where Phronsie's yellow head was
lost in dreams.

"You know we are going to Marken tomorrow."

"I know," said Polly, with a happy little wriggle under the bedclothes.

"And it never would do for you to be all tired out in the morning. That
would be very unkind to dear Mr. King, who is trying so hard to make us