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Updated: June 18, 2025
Such a time as we've had to make it!" "I know it," laughed Polly; "don't that cotton wool look just like bits of fur, Ben?" "Yes," said Ben, "and when the flour's shaken over me it'll be Santa himself." "We've got to put back the hair into mamsie's cushion the first thing to-morrow," whispered Polly anxiously, "and we mustn't forget it, Bensie." "I want to keep the wig awfully," said Ben.
"Oh, no," cried Polly honestly, "I had plenty of time but I forgot 'twas mamsie's day. What will she do!" "You will have to let it go now till the afternoon, dear; there's no other way; it can go in the early morning mail." "Oh, dear," sighed Polly, "I suppose I must." And she went down to meet Monsieur with a very distressed little heart.
The old gentleman gave no sign of his defeat, beyond a "Humph! and so I'm beaten, after all!" And Dr. Fisher never knew all this. Mamsie's wedding-day! At last it came! Was any other ever so bright and beautiful?
And he was left in darkness, his arms falling nervously to his side, while a cautious step across the room made his black eyes stand out in fright. "A burglar a burglar!" flashed through his mind. He held his breath hard and his knees knocked together. But Mamsie's eyes seemed to look with scorn on him again.
"Don't worry; I guess Helen will be all right," and he dashed off again. "Now, Phronsie, child," said Mrs. Fisher, "come to mother and let us talk it over a bit." So Phronsie cuddled up in Mamsie's lap, and laid her sad little cheek where she had been so often comforted.
"Such a long time to stay abed," reproved Polly; "just think of it, it's after seven o'clock, Joel Pepper, and Mamsie's been gone half an hour!" "An' I'm working," said Phronsie, twitching at the end of the thread with an important air. "I'm going to pick out the whole of this, I am, for Mamsie. See, Joey!" She held up the snarl, and away the spool raced, as if glad to get off once more.
Everybody said it was wonderful; and when the duet was over, the house rang with the charming noise by which the gratified friends tried to express their delight. But Polly saw only Mamsie's eyes, filled with joy.
"You see," she said, "everything must be just right, for next to Mamsie's wedding, this is to be the most important occasion, Alexia Rhys, that we've ever known. We can't have anything too nice for Phronsie's getting-well party." "That's so," said Alexia, twitching a pink satin bow on the handle of a flower-basket. "O dear me! this bow looks like everything!
Good night, Polly, you would better do the same." "Good night, Mamsie," said Polly, with a sleepy little yawn, "and good night, dear Mrs. Henderson," she added, already almost in dreamland. It seemed to Polly as if she had only breathed twice, and had not turned over once, when there was Mamsie's voice calling her, and there was Mamsie's face looking into hers over the edge of the berth.
"Oh, we haven't any raisins," answered Polly. "Haven't any raisins!" echoed grandma, looking at her over her spectacles; "what are you goin' to put in?" "Oh cinnamon," said Polly, briskly; "we've got plenty of that, and it'll be good, I guess, grandma!" she finished, anxiously; "anyway, we must have a cake; there isn't any other way to celebrate mamsie's birthday."
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