"So I did," she cried, and the color flew over her cheek. "Dear
me, it is so hard not to say things that you don't like to hear
other people say."

"Well, I don't want to pick over old rusty nails," said Joel,
ignoring this remark, "and it's real mean, Polly Pepper, to make
me, when I want to go and play!" And he kicked his heels worse
than ever.

"I don't make you," said Polly, pouring the hot water into the
dish-pan and dashing in the soap, "but I shouldn't think it was
nice to go out to play right after breakfast. You might work an
hour, and then you'd enjoy the play all the better."

"I'd enjoy the play now. And a whole hour, too!" cried Joel, in
a dudgeon. "Why, Polly Pepper! a whole hour!"

"That's right, Davie," said Polly, smiling brightly at him, as
the little fellow ran out into the woodshed. Then she began to
sing, without looking at Joel.

"A whole hour," shouted Joel. But Polly kept a cold shoulder
toward him, running up and down in a merry song till a little
bird outside the window trilled away as hard as he could, to
keep her company.

"A whole hour--" Joel ran up and pulled her dress. "It's as mean
as it can be to make me work a whole hour, Polly Pepper!"

"Chee--chee--chee," called the little bird, and away Polly sang,