y, "when I don't have to tell the stories. I never
know anything interesting."

"Oh, but you do," protested Polly. "We like to hear about England, of
how you have to take off your shoes and put on slippers in the
schoolroom, of how you can't walk out without your governess or some
one older and all about not having sweet potatoes nor corn, and of how
tomatoes are grown under glass and all those ways that are so different
from ours."

"But that isn't a real tale," objected Mary.

"Never mind, we like to hear it," said Molly. "What are you doing,
Polly?"

"I am building the fire; there must be a whole lot of light stuff to
set it going."

"That looks like a good deal," said Molly doubtfully regarding the pile
of bark, shaving and light wood that Polly was stowing in the fireplace.

"It will kindle all the quicker," returned Polly in a satisfied voice,
touching the kindling with a lighted match. In an instant not only was
the light stuff all ablaze, but the flames, leaping out, caught the
white apron which Polly had put on, half in sport, when they were
getting their supper. It was one of her Aunt Ada's and reached to
Polly's ankles, so that she seemed enveloped in flames. She shrieked,
but stood still. Quick as a flash Mary caught up the pitcher of water
standing on the table and dashed it over her cousin, then she grabbed
her and threw her on the floor, snatching up the rug from the floor
before doing so, thus protecting herself, and at the same time
providing a means of putting out the fire which she did by rolling
Polly in the rug.

Molly was perfectly helpless with fright and all she could do was to
wring her hands and cry, "Oh, what shall we do? What shall we do? Oh,
Polly, Polly!"

Just as the fire was all crushed out, the door opened and in walked
their Uncle Dick. Molly rushed to him. Throwing herself in his arms,
she cried: "Oh, Polly is burning up! Save her! Save her!"

"What is all this?" said Dick springing forward.

Mary arose from where she was kneeling over Polly. "I think it is all
out now," she said.

Polly unwound herself from her mummy-like case. "Are you badly hurt?"
her uncle asked anxiously.

"No," she said with a sobbing breath; "only my legs hurt me."

"How did it all happen?" said her uncle, picking her up and setting her
in a chair.

"We were kindling the fire," explained Mary, "and Polly's apron caught."

"And Mary saved her life," sobbed Molly completely unner