Princess Polly's Playmates Part 6

"I want to show her my room," she said, and Aunt Rose smiled, and nodded a.s.sent.

"Oh, Polly, Princess Polly!" she said, when they reached the pretty chamber, "it is so long since we've played together, and now--now I have you, all to myself. See the queer bed, with the canopy over it. The first night I came, I was afraid to sleep in it. Now, I like it, and to-night we'll cuddle close together in it, and draw the curtains."

"Oh, what fun!" cried Polly, "and we can play we're in a castle, and no one can enter, unless we let them!"

"Oh, yes, and we'll stay awake, oh, ever so long, just to talk," said Rose.

And when Polly had seen everything in the chamber that Rose wished to show, they ran down to the parlor to see the portraits.

"I'd like to see them all," said Polly, "but most of all I want to see the picture of the old gentleman that sometimes smiles at you."

Together they ran down the stairway to the parlor.

How cool it was! Vines that hung upon the piazza shaded the windows, and flickering sunbeams danced upon the polished floor, and brightened the color of the Persian rug.

The portraits seemed to look with interest at Polly, and she smiled back at them, and nodded as she pa.s.sed them.

"They look like real people," she said, "and it doesn't seem polite to pa.s.s them without nodding."

"I know it," agreed Rose, "and I nod and smile at them, but the picture at the end of the room smiles more than the others do. Come, and see him."

Together they stood looking at the little old gentleman.

Polly admired his flowered satin waistcoat, his powdered wig, and rosy cheeks, but most of all she liked his merry, twinkling eyes.

"He DOES smile," said Polly.

"Yes, he does," agreed Rose, "but now, just for a moment, frown, and then he doesn't SEEM to smile."

It was an odd sight, the two merry little faces puckered into an attempt at a frown, and the old portrait looking down at them, as if in surprise that their smiles had vanished.

"Now, let's both smile together!" cried Rose.

Immediately two pairs of merry eyes looked up at him, and two red mouths smiled, and showed rows of pearly teeth.

"There!" said Polly, "he ALMOST laughed, and that dimple in his chin looked DIMPLER than before."

"That's what I told you," said Rose, "and sometimes, when I'm lonesome, he's a comfort."

At lunch Aunt Rose talked much with Polly, and gentle Aunt Lois seemed charmed with the little guest.

When lunch was over, Aunt Rose left the little playmates to amuse themselves, because she felt sure that Polly must have a budget of news to tell, and they certainly would enjoy their bit of gossip better, if no older person listened.

They spent the afternoon in the garden, walking along, their arms about each other's waists.

Later they would care for games, but this first day was delightful just to talk together.

They pa.s.sed a little arbor, and Polly stopped to admire it.

Just as she looked up at the vine that blossomed on its roof, a strange little face peeped over the hedge, then dodged out of sight.

"Who was that?" Polly asked.

"Who? Where?"

"Just behind the hedge," whispered Polly.

Rose looked, and in an opening at the lower part of the hedge she saw a bit of a dark gray frock.

"Oh, it's Evangeline Longfellow Jenks, the little girl that's going to be a poet," whispered Rose.

"But you said her poetry was funny," said Polly, as softly as Rose had spoken.

"It IS" declared Rose, "but she keeps writing it all the time."

Just then Evangeline's round, white face again appeared above the hedge, and at that moment Aunt Rose came out on the porch.

"Come over here, Evangeline," she said kindly, "and meet our little guest."

"I'm not dressed up," said the voice behind the hedge, "but I've just made a poem, and I can read it from here!"

Without waiting to be urged, and in a thin, high-pitched voice, she read these lines, which she earnestly believed were beautiful:

"Oh, the sun is s.h.i.+ning, And the moon is near by; I can't see the moon, But it's in the sky-- Somewhere.

"I need no sun or moon; I'll be a poet soon.

I write every day Some kind of a lay-- Somewhere."

"What DOES she mean?" whispered Polly.

"I don't think it means ANYTHING, but she enjoys making up verses whether they mean anything or not," Rose whispered in reply.

Polly was anxious to see what the little girl looked like who felt that she was to be a poet, but Evangeline Longfellow Jenks did not intend to be seen in an ordinary frock.

She felt that her position as a future poet demanded that she be finely dressed.

On this especial morning she had been doing a very unpoetic thing--she had been trying to drink from the hose!

Her skirts were completely soaked, and her shoes were covered with mud that the dripping hose had splashed up from the garden bed.

"A person like ME ought not to drink from a horrid old hose. My mama read about some one, I've forgotten who, who drank from a crystal chalice. I don't know what that is, but it sounds grand, and I wish I had one," murmured the small girl behind the hedge.

Aunt Rose repeated her invitation, but the poetic child seldom thought it necessary to be polite, and never replied unless she chose to. This time she remained silent, and Aunt Rose, with an odd little smile returned to the house.

Then a strange thing happened.

Another face peeped over the hedge, but this time it was a saucy one, with bright, brown eyes that fairly danced with merriment.

"Reg'lar ninny, ain't she?" he asked, with a chuckle.