o entertain her, Dick was, till both Molly and Polly began
to add jealous pangs to their other grievances, yet they would only
sidle up to their aunt and uncle or would sit near enough to hear what
was said without joining in the conversation.

"They are jealous; that's what it is, poor dears," said their aunt to
herself. "I must gather them all together in some way." So the next
evening when she and Mary were established in a cozy corner by the open
fire, she called the other two little girls, "come here, lassies. Mary
has been telling me some very interesting things about England. Don't
you want to hear them, too?"

Molly and Polly came nearer and sat on the edge of the wood-box
together.

"Now," said Miss Ada, "I think it would be a good way to pass the time
if each were to tell her most exciting experience. Mary can tell of
something that happened to her in England; Polly can give us some
experience of hers in Colorado, and Molly can choose her own locality.
Molly, you are the eldest by a month or two, you can begin."

Molly was silent for a few minutes and then she began. "My most
exciting time was last fall when we were going home from here. We took
the early boat, you remember, Aunt Ada, and the sea was very rough. We
were about half way to the city when a tremendous wave rushed toward us
and we were all thrown down on deck. I went banging against the rail,
but Uncle Dick caught me, though he said if the rail hadn't been strong
we all might have been washed off into the sea. It was two or three
minutes before we could get to our feet and I was awfully scared; so
was everybody."

"It was not rough at all when we came down here from the city,"
remarked Mary.

"It is usually very smooth," said Miss Ada, "but the time of which
Molly speaks it was unusually rough and we all had reason to be
terrified. Now your tale, Polly."

Polly sat looking into the fire for a moment before she said, "I think
the time I was most scared was once when Uncle Dick and I were riding
home on our ponies. It was most dark and the sun was dropping behind
the mountains; it always seems lonely and solemn then anyhow. I wasn't
riding my own pony that day for he had hurt his foot, so I had Buster,
Ted's broncho: I'd often been on him before and I wasn't a bit afraid
to ride him. Well, we were coming along pretty fast because it was
getting so late and we were a good distance from home. Of course there
were no houses neare