laughed. But Polly had another suggestion to make. "Let's see
what else we can find in this stack of pictures. We will choose a number
of them and then make an offer on the lot, as much as to say we need
bargain-frames for other uses. This rare find of Nolla's will be hidden
in with the rest."

"Polly's idea is best. Because the old man will know that we wouldn't buy
a picture with all the dust covering the glass," said Nancy Fabian.

[Illustration: A CRY FROM POLLY CAUGHT THEIR FULLEST ATTENTION.
Polly's Business Venture. Page 139]

"What's the little old one you've got in your hands, Polly?" now asked
Mrs. Fabian.

"Oh, nothing much. It looks like an ugly little chromo printed before
people knew how to use colors on printing-presses."

Mrs. Fabian leaned over Polly's shoulder to take a look, and puckered her
forehead when she saw the yellowed paper and old stained edges of the
picture.

"Polly, I verily believe that here you have something that Mr. Fabian has
lectured on several times. Let me examine it."

While the girls crowded about her, Mrs. Fabian placed the picture, face
downwards, on the table near by and tried to draw out the old headless
tacks driven in to hold the backboard snugly in its place.

"Well, whoever framed this picture did it for all time!" exclaimed she,
breaking several fingernails and tearing the skin on her hands in the
attempt to loosen the fine steel nails.

"Here! I've found an old pair of broken scissors in this desk--let's use
them to clinch the nails and force them out," said Nancy, handing her
mother the shears.

With this assistance, Mrs. Fabian soon had the nails out and then
carefully removed the old sections of thin boards. Under the boards was a
yellowed newspaper, folded neatly, and so wedged in at the edges of the
frame that no dust could work a way through to the picture. Without a
thought of the paper, Mrs. Fabian took it out and expected to see the
back of the picture. Instead, she found a yellow-stained letter written
to Paul Revere Esq. and signed by one of the famous men of the
Revolution. It was a personal letter of that time, and had been used to
paste over a crack in the back of the picture.

"Why--why! How very wonderful!" breathed Mrs. Fabian, as she stared at
the old letter.

"What is it--anything valuable?" asked the girls.

"A genuine letter written to Paul Revere! Now that I think of it, girls,
Paul Revere lived in Morristown and his home is still