chance glimpse of it in the berth.

"Where did you put it last night when you took it off, Polly?" asked
Mrs. Fisher, buttoning away for dear life on Phronsie's shoes. "There
now, Pet, those are done; hop out now, and fly into your clothes."

"I thought I put 'em both in the corner here," cried poor Polly,
twitching everything loose. Thereupon her big hat, hung carefully upon
a high hook, slipped off and fell to the floor.

"Take care, Polly," warned her mother, "haste only makes matters
worse."

"But I can't go with only one stocking on," said Polly, quite gone in
despair now. "Oh, dear Mrs. Henderson, don't you see it on the floor?"
For that good woman had dropped to her knees, and was busily prowling
around among the accumulation of bags and clothing.

"That's what I'm hoping to do," she answered, "but I don't see it as
yet, Polly."

"I'll help Polly to find it," cried Phronsie, now thoroughly awake and
dropping her small skirts to get down on the floor by Mrs. Henderson's
side. "Don't feel badly, Polly; I'll find your stocking for you."

"No, Phronsie," said her mother, "you must get into your own clothes.
And then Mrs. Henderson is nearly all ready, and you can go out with
her, and that will leave more room, so that Polly and I can search more
carefully. And the stocking has got to come, for it couldn't walk off
of itself," she added cheerily as she saw Polly's face. "Why--what?" as