e a bad day!" said grandma. "Oh, don't never say that.
You mustn't borrow trouble, child."

"I didn't," said Polly; "I mean--it's her birthday, grandma!" this last
so loud that grandma's cap-border vibrated perceptibly.

"The land's sakes 'tis!" cried Mrs. Bascom, delightedly; "you don't say
so!"

"Yes," said Polly, skipping around the old lady, and giving her a small
hug; "and we're going to give her a surprise."

"What is the matter with her eyes?" asked grandma, sharply, turning
around and facing her; "she's been a-sewin' too stiddy, hain't she?"

"A surprise!" shouted Polly, standing upon tiptoe, to bring her mouth on
a level with the old lady's ear; "a cake, grandma, a big one!"

"A cake!" exclaimed grandma, dropping the broom to settle her cap, which
Polly in her extreme endeavors to carry on the conversation, had knocked
slightly awry; "well, that'll be fine."

"Yes," said Polly, picking up the broom, and flinging off her hood
at the same time; "and, oh! won't you please tell me how to make it,
grandma!"

"To be sure; to be sure;" cried the old lady, delighted beyond measure
to give advice; "I've got splendid receets; I'll go get 'em right off,"
and she ambled to the door of the pantry.

"And I'll finish sweeping up," said Polly, which grandma didn't hear;
so she took up the broom, and sent it energetically, and merrily flying
away to the tune of her own happy thoughts.

"Yes, they're right in here," said grandma, waddling back with an old
tin teapot in her hand;--"goodness, child! what a dust you've kicked
up! that ain't the way to sweep." And she took the broom out of Polly's
hand, who stood quite still in mortification.

"There," she said, drawing it mildly over the few bits she could scrape
together, and gently coaxing them into a little heap; "that's the way;
and then they don't go all over the room.

"I'm sorry," began poor Polly.

"'Tain't any matter," said Mrs. Bascom kindly, catching sight of Polly's
discomfited face; "tain't a mite of matter; you'll sweep better next
time; now let's go to the cake;" and putting the broom into the corner,
she waddled back again to the table, followed by Polly, and proceeded
to turn out the contents of the teapot, in search of just the right
"receet."

But the right one didn't seem to appear; not even after the teapot was
turned upside down and shaken by both grandma's and Polly's anxious
hands. Every other "receet" seemed to tumble out gladly, and stare