An Old-fashioned Girl by Louisa M. Alcott

smiling, yet looking as if with all his humility he did have faith in

the aspirations that came to him in his best moments.

“Some one said that very thing to father once, and I remember he

answered, ‘I am glad to give my best and brightest son to the

service of God.’ ”

“Did he say that?” and Will’s color rose, for the big, book-loving

fellow was as sensitive as a girl to the praise of those dearest to

him.

“Yes,” said Polly, unconsciously giving the strongest stimulus to

her brother’s hope and courage. “Yes, and he added, ‘I shall let my

boys follow the guide that is in them, and only ask of them to use

their gifts conscientiously, and be honest, useful men.’ ”

“So we will! Ned is doing well out West, and I ‘m hard at it here. If

father does his best to give us the chance we each want, the least

we can do is to work with a will.”

“Whatever you do, you can’t help working with a Will,” cried Tom,

who had been so interested, that he forgot he was playing

eavesdropper.

Polly flew up, looking so pleased and surprised, that Tom

reproached himself for not having called oftener.

“I ‘ve come for Maud,” he announced, in a paternal tone, which

made that young lady open her eyes.

“I can’t go till my apple is done; besides, it is n’t nine yet, and Will

is going to take me along, when he goes. I ‘d rather have him.”

“I ‘m going to take you both in the cutter. The storm is over, but it

is heavy walking, so you ‘ll drive out with me, old man?” said

Tom, with a nod at Will.

“Of course he will; and thank you very much. I ‘ve been trying to

keep him all night; Miss Mills always manages to find a corner for

stray people, but he insists on going, so as to get to work early

to-morrow,” said Polly, delighted to see that Tom was taking off

his coat, as if he meant to wait for Maud’s apple, which Polly

blessed for being so slow to cook.

Putting her guest into the best chair, Polly sat down and beamed at

him with such hospitable satisfaction, that Tom went up several

pegs in his own estimation.

“You don’t come very often, so we are rather over-powered when

you do honor us,” she said, demurely.

“Well, you, know we fellows are so busy, we have n’t much time to

enjoy ourselves,” answered Tom.

“Ahem!” said Will, loudly.

“Take a troche,” said Tom.

Then they both burst out laughing, and Polly, fully understanding

the joke, joined them, saying, “Here are some peanuts, Tom; do

enjoy yourself while you can.”

“Now I call that a delicate compliment!” And Tom, who had not

lost his early relish for this sort of refreshment, though he seldom

indulged his passion nowadays, because peanuts are considered

vulgar, fell to cracking and munching with great satisfaction.

“Do you remember the first visit I made at your house, how you

gave me peanuts, coming from the depot, and frightened me out of

my wits, pretending the coachman was tipsy?” asked Polly.

“Of course I do, and how we coasted one day,” answered Tom,

laughing.

“Yes, and the velocipede; you ‘ve got the scar of that yet, I see.”

“I remember how you stood by me while it was sewed up; that was

very plucky, Polly.”

“I was dreadfully afraid, but I remember I wanted to seem very

brave, because you ‘d called me a coward.”

“Did I? Ought to have been ashamed of myself. I used to rough you

shamefully, Polly, and you were so good-natured, you let me do

it.”

“Could n’t help myself,” laughed Polly. “I did use to think you were

an awful boy, but seems to me I rather liked it.”

“She had so much of it at home, she got used to it,” put in Will,

pulling the little curl behind Polly’s ear.

“You boys never teased me as Tom did, that ‘s the reason it amused

me, I suppose; novelty hath charms, you know.”

“Grandma used to lecture Tom for plaguing you, Polly, and he

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