"Yes, we'll go to Scheveningen this morning," repeated Mr. King,
smiling approvingly at poor Polly, which caused her to lift her head;
"the carriages are ordered, so as soon as we are through breakfast we
will be off."

"Oh, father," exclaimed Jasper, in dismay, "must we go in carriages?"

"How else would you go, Jasper?" asked his father.

"Oh, by the tramway; oh, by all means," cried Jasper, perfectly
delighted that he could get his father even to listen to any other
plan.

"The dirty tram-cars," ejaculated Mr. King, in disgust. "How can you
ask it, Jasper? No, indeed, we must go in carriages, or not at all."

"But, father," and Jasper's face fell, "don't you see the upper deck of
the tram-car is so high and there are fine seats there, and we can see
so much better than driving in a stupid carriage?"

Polly's face had drooped, too. Mr. King, in looking from one to the
other, was dismayed and a good bit annoyed to find that his plan wasn't
productive of much happiness after all. He had just opened his mouth to
say authoritatively, "No use, Jasper, either you will go in the way I
have provided, or stay at home," when Phronsie slipped out of her chair
where she happened this morning to be sitting next to Mother Fisher,
and running around to his chair, piped out, "Oh, Grandpapa, if you
please, do let us sit up top."