"Jasper," exclaimed Polly, as they all filed decorously out of the
"Model Farm," "how I do wish you and I could race down to the
boat-landing!"

Jasper looked longingly down the washed and shining road. "So do I,
Polly," he said, "but I suppose it wouldn't do; we should shock these
natives."

"I suppose so," assented Polly, ruefully. Just then Phronsie came up
holding with both hands her paper-covered, twine-netted little round
yellow cheese.

"What in the world has Phronsie got!" exclaimed Polly, catching sight
of her. "Come here, Pet," she called.

Phronsie hesitated. On Polly's calling her again she drew near, but
more slowly than was her wont.

"What have you got, Phronsie?" asked Polly, wondering and not a little
hurt by her manner. "A little basket of string; isn't it funny, and
where did you get it?"

"It isn't a basket," corrected Phronsie, "and I cannot tell you now,
Polly," said Phronsie, shaking her head.

"Why, Phronsie," began Polly in surprise; and she couldn't help it, her
voice quavered in spite of her.

When Phronsie heard that, she was equally distressed, and at once
decided to present the gift then instead of carrying it back to the