all happy," continued Mrs. Fisher.

"I know," said Polly, again. "Well, good night, Mamsie." She set three
or four kisses on Mother Fisher's cheek, then turned over, with her
face to the wall.

"I'll shut the door until you get to sleep, Polly," said Mrs. Fisher,
"then I will open it again," as she went out.

As Mother Fisher had said, they were going to the Island of Marken
to-morrow; and Polly tumbled asleep with her head full of all the strange
things they were to see there, and that Jasper and she had been reading
about,--how the people wore the same kind of funny costume that their
great-great-ever-so-many-times great-grandfathers and grandmothers had
worn; and how the houses were of different colours, and built in
different layers or mounds of land, with cunning little windows and
scarcely any stairs; and how they were going in the haying season when
everybody would be out raking up and gleaning--and--and--Polly was
completely lost in her happy dreams.

Somebody seemed to be pulling her arm. What! Oh, she remembered they
were going to Marken, and she must hurry and get her bath and fly into
her clothes. "Yes, Mamsie!" she cried, flying up to sit straight in the
bed. "I'll get right up and dress; oh, won't we have fun!"

"Polly," said Mother Fisher. She had on a dressing-gown, and her black
hair was hanging down her back. She looked pale and worried; Polly
could see that, although she blinked at the sudden light. "It isn't
morning, but the middle of the night. You must get up this minute. Pull
on your shoes; don't stop for stockings, and slip into your wrapper.