Part 21 (2/2)
”Three,” said Polly.
”Oh, Polly, didn't you get more than that?” said Jasper, quite disappointed for her, for Polly dearly loved to take photographs. ”Oh, you've let Adela Gray take your kodak,” he added; ”it's a shame I didn't give you mine. Take it now, Polly,” he begged, slinging off the leather strap from his shoulder.
”No, no,” said Polly, ”I don't want to, Jasper, and I wanted Adela to take it, and don't let her hear us, she may come back from the other room;”--for Adela had disappeared with the kodak; ”and it's all right, Jasper,” she finished up incoherently.
”Aren't these queer beds, Mrs. Fisher?” the parson's wife was saying, peering into the shelves against the side of the wall, boarded up, with doors swung open inviting inspection.
”The idea of sleeping in one of them!” exclaimed Mrs. Fisher, inspecting the interior with a sharp eye. ”They're clean enough and as neat as a pink”--with a critical glance along the white lace spread and the immaculate pillow--”but to be shut up in a box like that. I should as soon go to bed in a bureau drawer.”
”So should I,” laughed the parson's wife; ”and look at the artificial flowers hanging up over the head, and that picture pinned, above the foot. Well, well, well, and so that is a Dutch bed!”
”There are a good many kinds and sorts of Dutch beds, I suppose,”
observed Mrs. Fisher, turning away, ”just as there are a good many American ones; but I hope there aren't many of this particular kind.”
”Jasper,” exclaimed Polly, as they all filed decorously out of the ”Model Farm,” ”how I do wish you and I could race down to the boat-landing!”
Jasper looked longingly down the washed and s.h.i.+ning road. ”So do I, Polly,” he said, ”but I suppose it wouldn't do; we should shock these natives.”
”I suppose so,” a.s.sented Polly, ruefully. Just then Phronsie came up holding with both hands her paper-covered, twine-netted little round yellow cheese.
”What in the world has Phronsie got!” exclaimed Polly, catching sight of her. ”Come here, Pet,” she called.
Phronsie hesitated. On Polly's calling her again she drew near, but more slowly than was her wont.
”What have you got, Phronsie?” asked Polly, wondering and not a little hurt by her manner. ”A little basket of string; isn't it funny, and where did you get it?”
”It isn't a basket,” corrected Phronsie, ”and I cannot tell you now, Polly,” said Phronsie, shaking her head.
”Why, Phronsie,” began Polly in surprise; and she couldn't help it, her voice quavered in spite of her.
When Phronsie heard that, she was equally distressed, and at once decided to present the gift then instead of carrying it back to the hotel for Polly as she had at first intended. So she cast her burden into Polly's hands and piped out, ”It's for you, Polly, a sweet little yellow cheese; you said you wanted it,” and stood smiling and triumphant.
”Oh, my goodness me!” exclaimed Polly Pepper, standing quite still.
Then she did shock the natives, for she sat right down in the road, with the cheese in her hands.
XIV
THE ISLAND OF MARKEN
When the boat was nearing the island of Marken, the little yellow cheese had been presented with all due formality to one of the sailors who had been specially kind in the matter of securing good seats for Mr. King's party, Polly and Phronsie having held a whispered conference in a retired nook, to come out of it bright and smiling.
”And now it has made two people happy, Phronsie,” Polly had said, when the presentation was well over, and she ended up with a kiss. ”It made me happy in the first place because you thought of me, and then, just think, Pet, that poor sailor, how glad he will be to take it home.”
”Will he, Polly?” asked Phronsie, in a rapture; ”and do you think he has got any little girls?”
<script>