he bedroom, the two boys
joining uproariously, as the old black thing flapped dismally up and
down, and showed strong symptoms of flying off. "We shall have to tie it
on."

"It looks like a pudding bag," said Joel, as Polly tied it securely
through the middle with a bit of twine; "an old black pudding bag!" he
finished.

"Old black pudding bag!" echoed Phronsie, with a merry little crow; and
then all of a sudden she grew very sober, and looked intently at the
foot thrust out straight before her, as she still sat in the chair.

"What is it, Phronsie?" asked Polly, who was bustling around, making
preparations for the cake-making.

"Can I ever wear my new shoes again?" asked the child, gravely, looking
dismally at the black bundle before her.

"Oh, yes; my goodness, yes!" cried Polly; "as quick again as ever;
you'll be around again as smart as a cricket in a week--see if you
aren't!"

"Will it go on?" asked Phronsie, still looking incredulously at the
bundle, "and button up?"

"Yes, indeed!" cried Polly, again; "button into every one of the little
holes, Phronsie Pepper; just as elegant as ever!"

"Oh!" said Phronsie; and then she gave a sigh of relief, and thought no
more of it, because Polly had said that all would be right.

MAMSIE'S BIRTHDAY

"Run down and get the cinnamon, will you, Joey?" said Polly; "it's in
the 'Provision Room."

The "Provision Room" was a little shed that was tacked on to the main
house, and reached by a short flight of rickety steps; so called,
because as Polly said, "'twas a good place to keep provisions in, even
if we haven't any; and besides," she always finished, "it sounds nice!"

"Come on, Dave! then we'll get something to eat!"

So the cinnamon was handed up, and then Joel flew back to Davie.

And now, Polly's cake was done, and ready for the oven. With many
admiring glances from herself, and Phronsie, who with Seraphina, an
extremely old but greatly revered doll, tightly hugged in her arms was
watching everything with the biggest of eyes from the depths of the old
chair, it was placed in the oven, the door shut to with a happy little
bang, then Polly gathered Phronsie up in her arms, and sat down in the
chair to have a good time with her and to watch the process of cooking.

There was a bumping noise that came from the "Provision Room" that
sounded ominous, and then a smothered sound of words, followed by a
scuffling over the old floor.

"Boys!" called Polly.