"Dear me," cried Polly, whirling around, "are you there, Pet?
Well, Mamsie's coming pretty soon. I think I see--No, 'tisn't,"
as David started to scamper over the stepping-stones--"it's a
man turning the road. Anyway, she'll be here before we hardly
know it, I guess. Now let's play something, and that'll make the
time go faster."

"Oh, hooray!" cried little Davie, and, "Hooray!" piped Phronsie.
"_Joel--Joel!_" screamed David; and Phronsie clapped her hands and
screamed too, and Polly laughed and called as hard as she could, for
Joel, imagining himself a gay trotting horse, was slapping his legs
with a switch, and careering around the back of the little brown
house in a great state of excitement. Now hearing the calls, he
came whooping around, making all the noise he possibly could,
so there was a perfectly dreadful din, and no wonder that the
man Polly had seen turning the road came nearer without any
one noticing him.

He thought it was so convenient for him that all the children in
the house should be out in the front yard, that perhaps he had
better hop over the stone wall and go quietly in at the back
door; for really he was very hungry, and there must be as much
as a piece of bread, although the little brown house didn't look
as if it held much meat and pie and cake. So over the wall he
went, and slunk in through the tall grass, just as Polly was
marshalling her forces on the greensward in front and saying,
"Now, children, what shall we play?"

"Tag--tag!" screamed Joel, crowding up in front. "Now begin,
Polly, do, and let me be it."