e went up
into a great empty room at the top of the house, and cut up all sorts of
capers. Her great delight was to lean out of the window as far as she
could, and look at the people in the street, with her head upside down.
It was very dangerous, for a fall would have killed her; but the danger
was the fun, and Poppy hung out till her hands touched the ledge below,
and her face was as red as any real poppy's.

She was enjoying herself in this way one day, when an old gentleman,
who lived near, came home to dinner, and saw her.

"What in the world is that hanging out of the colonel's upper window?"
said he, putting on his spectacles. "Bless my soul! that child will kill
herself. Hallo, there! little girl; get in this minute!" he called to
Poppy, flourishing his hat to make her see him.

"What for?" answered Poppy, staring at him without moving an inch.

"You'll fall, and break your neck!" screamed the old gentleman.

"Oh, no, I shan't!" returned Poppy, much flattered by his interest, and
hanging out still further.

"Stop that, instantly, or I'll go in and inform the colonel!" roared the
old gentleman, getting angry.

"I don't care," shouted Poppy; and she didn't, for she knew grandpa
wasn't at home.

"Little gipsy! I'll settle her," muttered the old man, bustling up to
the steps, and ringing the bell, as if the house was on fire.

No one was in but the servants; and, when he'd told old Emily what the
matter was, she went up to "settle" Poppy. But Poppy was already
settled, demurely playing with her doll, and looking quite innocent.
Emily scolded; and Poppy promised never to do it again, if she might
stay and play in the big room. Being busy about dinner, Emily was glad
to be rid of her, and left her, to go and tell the old gentleman it was
all right.

"Ain't they crosspatches?" said Poppy to her doll. "Never mind, dear:
_you_ shall hang out, if I can't. I guess the old man won't order you
in, any way."

Full of this idea, Poppy took her long-suffering dolly, and, tying a
string to her neck, danced her out of the window. Now this dolly had
been through a great deal. Her head had been cut off (and put on again);
she had been washed, buried, burnt, torn, soiled, and banged about till
she was a mournful object. Poppy loved her very much; for she was two
feet tall, and had once been very handsome: so her trials only endeared
her to her little mamma. Away she went, skipping and prancing like
mad,--a funny sight,