n I do, Jasper?" she cried brokenly. "Tell me, and I'll do it,
every single thing."

"You must talk to him," said Jasper, raising his head. It filled Polly
with dismay to see his face. "Get him in here; I'll bring him over and
then clear out of the den."

"Oh Jasper!" exclaimed Polly, quite aghast. "I couldn't talk to
Pickering Dodge. Why, he wouldn't listen to me."

"Yes, he would," declared Jasper eagerly; "he thinks everything of you,
Polly, and if you'll say the word, it will do more good than anything
else. Do, Polly," he begged.

"But, Jasper," began Polly, a little white line coming around her mouth,
"what would he think to have me talk to him about his lessons?"

"Think?" repeated Jasper, "why, he'd like it, Polly, and it will be the
very thing that will help him."

"Oh, I can't!" cried Polly, twisting her fingers. Then she broke out
passionately, "Oh, he ought to be ashamed of himself not to study; and
there's that nice Mr. Cabot, and his aunt--"

"Aunt!" exclaimed Jasper explosively. "Polly, I do believe if he hadn't
her picking at him all the time, he would try harder."

"Well, his uncle is different," said Polly, her indignation by no means
dying out.

"Yes, but it's his aunt who makes the mischief. Honestly, Polly, I don't
believe I could stand her," said Jasper, in a loyal burst.

"No, I don't believe I could either," confessed Polly.

"And you see, when a boy has such a home, no matter what they give him,
why, he doesn't have the ambition that he would if things were
different. Just think, Polly, not to have one's own father or mother."

"Oh Jasper!" cried Polly, quite overcome. "I'll do it, I will."

"Polly!" Jasper seized her hands, and held them fast, his dark eyes
glowing. "Oh Polly, that's so awfully good of you!"

"And you better run right over, and get him now," said Polly, speaking
very fast, "or I may run away, I shall get so scared."

"You won't run away, I'll be bound," cried Jasper, bursting into a merry
laugh, and rushing off with a light heart. And presently, in less time
than one could imagine, though to Polly it seemed an age, back he came,
Pickering with him, all alive with curiosity to know what Polly Pepper
wanted of him.

"It's about the play, I suppose," he began, lolling into an easy-chair;
"Jasper wouldn't tell me what it's all about; only seized me by the ear,
and told me to come on. Draw up your chair, Jasper, and--why, hullo!
where is the chap?" swinging his lo