Part 37 (1/2)

she announced merrily.

”A blanket is just as good as anything when the sunrise is waiting for you,” said the little doctor, coolly.

”Isn't it!” cried Polly, back at him, happily. ”Oh--oh!”

Everybody echoed, ”Oh-oh!” then stood hushed to silence. A rosy blush spread from peak to peak, and all the shadows fell away. Everything below, towns, villages, lakes, and forests, stood out in the clear cold dawn, and at last the sun burst forth in all his glory.

”I'm so glad that people don't chatter,” said Polly, when at last they turned away, for the swift clouds had shut it all out. ”Did you see Phronsie's face, Jasper, when that light burst out?”

”Yes, and father's,” answered Jasper. ”I expect he'd been looking for her; everybody is so bundled up you can hardly find your best friend.

And then he saw her.”

”Yes, and she saw him and called him,” said Polly, ”didn't you hear her?”

”Didn't I, though?” said Jasper; ”who could help it? Wasn't father pleased when he got up to us, Tom, to think you had Phronsie in such good shape? Phronsie, you're in luck,” pinching as much of her toes as the bundle of blanket would allow; ”you've got the best place of any of us, up on that perch.”

”I like it,” said Phronsie, in grave delight, ”very much, indeed,”

surveying them out of the depths of the shawl, ”and I wish it needn't stop.”

”Well, it must,” said Polly, with a sigh. ”Dear me, see those people run.”

”Well, it's cold,” said Jasper; ”let's you and I race to the hotel, Polly.”

”And the show is over,” said Tom, ”why shouldn't they run?” as Jasper and Polly set off, and he strode after, getting there nearly as soon.

An hour later, Polly, who couldn't get to sleep again, for a nap before breakfast, went out to the little balcony window just outside her door, where she might sit and write in her journal, and meantime catch any chance view that the grey scudding clouds might afford. In this way she strove to work off the impatience possessing her for the beautiful hour to come after breakfast. ”I can hardly believe it now,” she thought, and she gave herself a little pinch to see if she were really awake; ”it seems too good to be true to think that the great Professor Bauricke is actually going to tell me how to learn to play well!”

”Say,” a voice struck upon her ear, ”oh, I'm in the most awful distress.”

Polly clapped her book to, and looked up.

”O dear, dear!” It was a tall, spare woman with a face that had something about it like Grandma Bascom's. It must have been the cap-frills flapping around her cheeks.

”What can I do for you?” asked Polly, springing up. ”Oh, do take my chair and sit down and tell me about it.”

”Oh, will you help me? The land! I couldn't set when I'm in such trouble,” declared the old woman. ”My senses, I should fly off the handle!” Polly, feeling that she was in the presence of some dreadful calamity, stood quite still. ”You see, me and my sister--she's in highstrikes now in there.” The old woman tossed her head to indicate a room further down the hall, whereat the cap-frills flapped wilder than ever. ”Bein' as it belonged to both of us, she feels as bad as I do, but as I was the one that lost it, why it stands to reason I've got to shake around and get it again. Say, will you help me? You've got a pair of bright eyes as ever I see in a head; and what's the good of 'em if you can't help in trouble like this?”

Polly, feeling that her eyes would never forgive her if she didn't let them help on such an occasion, promised.

”What is it you have lost?” she asked.

”Don't you know?” cried the old woman, impatiently. ”Mercy me! how many times shall I tell you? My buzzom pin; it was took of Pa when he was a young man and awful handsome, and I didn't want to leave it in the room when we went out, cause somebody might get in, and they'd be sure to want it, so I pinned it on my nightcap strings and it's gone, and I a-gallivanting round on them rocks, a-looking at the sunrise, and I can see that to home all I want to. I must have been crazy.”

”Oh, I see; and you want me to go out and help you look for it,” said Polly, her brow clearing.

”Of course,” a.s.sented the old woman, impatiently. ”Land, your intellects ain't as bright as your eyes. My sakes!--how many times do you expect me to tell you? I've been a-looking and a-peeking everywhere, but my eyes are old, and I don't dare to tell any one to help me, for like enough they'd pick it up when I warn't seein', and slip Pa in their pocket, and I never'd see him again.”

Polly, feeling, if Pa were slipped in a pocket and carried off, it would be a calamity indeed, said heartily, ”I'll get my jacket and cap and come right out.”

”She looks honest; I guess I hain't done no harm to tell her about our buzzom pin,” said the old woman to herself as Polly disappeared. Mamsie being asleep, Polly could say nothing to her, but feeling that she would allow it if she knew, she threw on her things and ran out to meet the old woman, with a shawl tied over her nightcap and a big long cape on.