coasters were at it with all their might, and she watched them, till
her longing to join the fun grew irresistible. On the hill, some little
girls were playing with their sleds, real little girls, in warm hoods
and coats, rubber boots and mittens, and Polly felt drawn toward
them in spite of her fear of Fan.
“I want to go down, but I dars n’t, it ‘s so steep,” said one of these
“common children,” as Maud called them.
“If you ‘ll lend me your sled, and sit in my lap, I ‘ll take you down
all nice,” answered Polly, in a confidential tone.
The little girls took a look at her, seemed satisfied, and accepted
her offer. Polly looked carefully round to see that no fashionable
eye beheld the awful deed, and finding all safe, settled her freight,
and spun away down hill, feeling all over the delightsome
excitement of swift motion which makes coasting such a favorite
pastime with the more sensible portion of the child-world. One
after another, she took the little girls down the hill and dragged
them up again, while they regarded her in the light of a gray-coated
angel, descended for their express benefit. Polly was just finishing
off with one delicious “go” all by herself, when she heard a
familiar whistle behind her, and before she could get off, up came
Tom, looking as much astonished as if he had found her mounted,
on an elephant.
“Hullo, Polly! What ‘ll Fan say to you?” was his polished
salutation.
“Don’t know, and don’t care. Coasting is no harm; I like it, and I ‘m
going to do it, now I ‘ve got a chance; so clear the lul-la!” And
away went independent Polly, with her hair blowing in the wind,
and an expression of genuine enjoyment, which a very red nose did
n’t damage in the least.
“Good for you, Polly!” And casting himself upon his sled, with the
most reckless disregard for his ribs, off whizzed Tom after her, and
came alongside just as she reined up “General Grant” on the broad
path below. “Oh, won’t you get it when we go home?” cried the
young gentleman, even before he changed his graceful attitude.
“I shan’t, if you don’t go and tell; but of course you will,” added
Polly, sitting still, while an anxious expression began to steal over
her happy face.
“I just won’t, then,” returned Tom, with the natural perversity of his
tribe.
“If they ask me, I shall tell, of course; if they don’t ask, I think
there ‘s no harm in keeping still. I should n’t have done it, if I had
n’t known my mother was willing; but I don’t wish to trouble your
mother by telling of it. Do you think it was very dreadful of me?”
asked Polly, looking at him.
“I think it was downright jolly; and I won’t tell, if you don’t want
me to. Now, come up and have another,” said Tom, heartily.
“Just one more; the little girls want to go, this is their sled.”
“Let ’em take it, it is n’t good for much; and you come on mine.
Mazeppa’s a stunner; you see if he is n’t.”
So Polly tucked herself up in front, Tom hung on behind in some
mysterious manner, and Mazeppa proved that he fully merited his
master’s sincere if inelegant praise. They got on capitally now, for
Tom was in his proper sphere, and showed his best side, being
civil and gay in the bluff boy-fashion that was natural to him;
while Polly forgot to be shy, and liked this sort of “toughening”
much better than the other. They laughed and talked, and kept
taking “just one more,” till the sunshine was all gone, and the
clocks struck dinner-time.
“We shall be late; let ‘s run,” said Polly, as they came into the path
after the last coast.
“You just sit still, and I ‘ll get you home in a jiffy;” and before she
could unpack herself, Tom trotted off with her at a fine pace.
“Here ‘s a pair of cheeks! I wish you ‘d get a color like this, Fanny,”
said Mr. Shaw, as Polly came into the dining-room after smoothing