like--I don't know what. But it was good fun, Polly."

And then Phronsie came running up, and after her came Grandpapa to see
that she got there all right.

"Oh, Polly, do you see the windmills?" she cried, clapping her small
hands.

"Yes, Pet," said Polly, looking all along the soft curves of the shore,
"there are hundreds of them, aren't there?"

"There was a girl coming out of the door of one of them," announced
Phronsie, climbing up on the seat and putting her arm around Polly's
neck. "Polly, I'd like to live in a windmill; I would," she whispered
close to her ear.

"Would you, Pet?"

"Yes, I would truly," she said. "Why couldn't I, Polly, just like that
girl I saw coming out of the door?" she asked, looking back wistfully.

"Well, that girl never had a little brown house to live in," said
Polly; "think of that, Phronsie."




XIII

"THE CLEANEST PLACE IN ALL HOLLAND"