ashamed of it! I ‘ll help you tease for your velocipede, and won’t
say a word against it, when mamma and granny beg papa not to let
you have it.”
“Will you?” and Tom paused to consider the offer in all its
bearings.
“Yes, and Polly will help; won’t you?”
“I ‘d rather not have anything to do with it; but I ‘ll be quiet, and
not do any harm.”
“Why won’t you?” asked Tom, curiously.
“Because it seems like deceiving.”
“Well, papa need n’t be so fussy,” said Fan, petulantly.
“After hearing about that Carrie, and the rest, I don’t wonder he is
fussy. Why don’t you tell right out, and not do it any more, if he
don’t want you to?” said Polly, persuasively.
“Do you go and tell your father and mother everything right out?”
“Yes, I do; and it saves ever so much trouble.”
“Ain’t you afraid of them?”
“Of course I ‘m not. It ‘s hard to tell sometimes; but it ‘s so
comfortable when it ‘s over.”
“Let ‘s!” was Tom’s brief advice.
“Mercy me! what a fuss about nothing!” said Fanny, ready to cry
with vexation.
“T is n’t nothing. You know you are forbidden to go gallivanting
round with those chaps, and that ‘s the reason you ‘re in a pucker
now. I won’t make any bargain, and I will tell,” returned Tom,
seized with a sudden fit of moral firmness.
“Will you if I promise never, never to do so any more?” asked
Fanny, meekly; for when Thomas took matters into his own hands,
his sister usually submitted in spite of herself.
“I ‘ll think about it; and if you behave, maybe I won’t do it at all. I
can watch you better than papa can; so, if you try it again, it ‘s all
up with you, miss,” said Tom, finding it impossible to resist the
pleasure of tyrannizing a little when he got the chance.
“She won’t; don’t plague her any more, and she will be good to you
when you get into scrapes,” answered Polly, with her arm round
Fan.
“I never do; and if I did, I should n’t ask a girl to help me out.”
“Why not? I ‘d ask you in a minute, if I was in trouble,” said Polly,
in her confiding way.
“Would you? Well, I ‘d put you through, as sure as my name ‘s Tom
Shaw. Now, then, don’t slip, Polly,” and Mr. Thomas helped them
out with unusual politeness, for that friendly little speech gratified
him. He felt that one person appreciated him; and it had a good
effect upon manners and temper made rough and belligerent by
constant snubbing and opposition.
After tea that evening, Fanny proposed that Polly should show her
how to make molasses candy, as it was cook’s holiday, and the
coast would be clear. Hoping to propitiate her tormentor, Fan
invited Tom to join in the revel, and Polly begged that Maud might
sit up and see the fun; so all four descended to the big kitchen,
armed with aprons, hammers, spoons, and pans, and Polly assumed
command of the forces. Tom was set to cracking nuts, and Maud
to picking out the meats, for the candy was to be “tip-top.” Fan
waited on Polly cook, who hovered over the kettle of boiling
molasses till her face was the color of a peony. “Now, put in the
nuts,” she said at last; and Tom emptied his plate into the foamy
syrup, while the others watched with deep interest the mysterious
concoction of this well-beloved sweetmeat. “I pour it into the
buttered pan, you see, and it cools, and then we can eat it,”
explained Polly, suiting the action to the word.
“Why, it ‘s all full of shells!” exclaimed Maud, peering into the
pan.
“Oh, thunder! I must have put ’em in by mistake, and ate up the
meats without thinking,” said Tom, trying to conceal his naughty
satisfaction, as the girls hung over the pan with faces full of
disappointment and despair.
“You did it on purpose, you horrid boy! I ‘ll never let you have
anything to do with my fun again!” cried Fan, in a passion, trying