the rest of us; but she didn’t fight, scream, and squabble with her brothers and sisters in this disgraceful way, and was much surprised to see her elegant friend in such a passion. “Oh, don’t! Please, don’t! You’ll hurt her, Tom! Let him go, Fanny! It’s no matter about the candy; we can make some more!” cried Polly, trying to part them, and looking so distressed, that they stopped ashamed, and in a minute sorry that she should see such a display of temper.
“I ain’t going to be hustled round; so you’d better let me alone, Fan,” said Tom, drawing off with a threatening wag of the head, adding, in a different tone, “I only put the shells in for fun, Polly. You cook another kettleful, and I’ll pick you some meats all fair. Will you?”
“It’s pretty hot work, and it’s a pity to waste things; but I’ll try again, if you want me to,” said Polly, with a patient sigh, for her arms were tired and her face uncomfortably hot.
“We don’t want you; get away!” said Maud, shaking a sticky spoon at him.
“Keep quiet, crybaby. I’m going to stay and help; mayn’t I, Polly?”
“Bears like sweet things, so you want some candy, I guess. Where is the molasses? We’ve used up all there was in the jug,” said Polly, good-naturedly, beginning again.
“Down cellar; I’ll get it;” and taking the lamp and jug, Tom departed, bent on doing his duty now like a saint.
The moment his light vanished, Fanny bolted the door, saying, spitefully, “Now, we are safe from any more tricks. Let him thump and call, it only serves him right; and when the candy is done, we’ll let the rascal out.”
“How can we make it without molasses?” asked Polly, thinking that would settle the matter.
“There’s plenty in the storeroom. No; you shan’t let him up till I’m ready. He’s got to learn that I’m not to be shaken by a little chit like him. Make your candy, and let him alone, or I’ll go and tell papa, and then Tom will get a lecture.”
Polly thought it wasn’t fair; but Maud clamored for her candy, and finding she could do nothing to appease Fan, Polly devoted her mind to her cookery till the nuts were safely in, and a nice panful set in the yard to cool. A few bangs at the locked door, a few threats of vengeance from the prisoner such as setting the house on fire, drinking up the wine, and smashing the jelly-pots, and then all was so quiet that the girls forgot him in the exciting crisis of their work.
“He can’t possibly get out anywhere, and as soon as we’ve cut up the candy, we’ll unbolt the door and run. Come and get a nice dish to put it in,” said Fan, when Polly proposed to go halves with Tom, lest he should come bursting in somehow, and seize the whole.
When they came down with the dish in which to set forth their treat, and opened the back door to find it, imagine their dismay on discovering that it was gone – pan, candy, and all – utterly and mysteriously gone!
A general lament arose, when a careful rummage left no hopes; for the fates had evidently decreed that candy was not to prosper on this unpropitious night.
“The hot pan has melted and sunk in the snow, perhaps,” said Fanny, digging into the drift where it was left.
“Those old cats have got it, I guess,” suggested Maud, too much overwhelmed by this second blow to howl as usual.
“The gate isn’t locked, and some beggar has stolen it. I hope it will do him good,” added Polly, returning from her exploring expedition.
“If Tom could get out, I should think he’d carried it off; but not being a rat, he can’t go through the bits of windows; so it wasn’t him,” said Fanny, disconsolately, for she began to think this double loss a punishment for letting angry passions rise.
“Let’s open the door and tell him about it,” proposed Polly.
“He’ll crow over us. No; we’ll open it and go to bed, and he can come out when he likes. Provoking boy! If he hadn’t plagued us so, we should have had a nice time.”
Unbolting the cellar door, the girls announced to the invisible captive that they were through, and then departed much depressed. Halfway up the second flight, they all stopped as suddenly as if they had seen a ghost; for looking over the banisters was Tom’s face, crocky but triumphant, and in either hand a junk of candy, which he waved above them as he vanished, with the tantalizing remark, “Don’t you wish you had some?”
“How in the world did he get out?” cried Fanny, steadying herself after a start that nearly sent all three tumbling downstairs.
“Coal-hole!” answered a spectral voice from the gloom above.
“Good gracious! He must have poked up the cover, climbed into the street, stole the candy, and sneaked in at the shed window while we were looking for it.”
“Cats got it, didn’t they?” jeered the voice in a tone that made Polly sit down and laugh till she couldn’t laugh any longer.
“Just give Maud a bit, she’s so disappointed. Fan and I are sick of it, and so will you be, if you eat it all,” called Polly, when she got her breath.
“Go to bed, Maudie, and look under your pillow when you get there,” was the oracular reply that came down to them, as Tom’s door closed after a jubilant solo on the tin pan.
The girls went to bed tired out; and Maud slumbered placidly, hugging the sticky bundle, found where molasses candy is not often discovered. Polly was very tired, and soon fell asleep; but Fanny, who slept with her, lay awake longer than usual, thinking about her troubles, for her head ached, and the dissatisfaction that follows anger would not let her rest with the tranquillity that made the rosy face in the little round nightcap such a pleasant sight to see as it lay beside her. The gas was turned down, but Fanny saw a figure in a gray wrapper creep by her door, and presently return, pausing to look in. “Who is it?” she cried, so loud that Polly woke.
“Only me, dear,” answered grandma’s mild voice. “Poor Tom has got a dreadful toothache, and I came down to find some creosote for him. He told me not to tell you; but I can’t find the bottle, and don’t want to disturb mamma.”
“It’s in my closet. Old Tom will pay for his trick this time,” said Fanny, in a satisfied tone.
“I thought he’d get enough of our candy,” laughed Polly; and then they fell asleep, leaving Tom to the delights of toothache and the tender mercies of kind old grandma.
Chapter 3
Polly’s Troubles
Polly soon found that she was in a new world, a world where the manners and customs were so different from the simple ways at home, that she felt like a stranger in a strange land, and often wished that she had not come. In the first place, she had nothing to do but lounge and gossip, read novels, parade the streets, and dress; and before a week was gone, she was as heartily sick of all this, as a healthy person would be who attempted to live on confectionery. Fanny liked it, because she was used to it, and had never known anything better; but Polly had, and often felt like a little wood-bird shut up in a gilded cage. Nevertheless, she was much impressed by the luxuries all about her, enjoyed them, wished she owned them, and wondered why the Shaws were not a happier family. She was not wise enough to know where the trouble lay; she did not attempt to say which of the two lives was the right one; she only knew which she liked best, and supposed it was merely another of her “old-fashioned” ways.
Fanny’s
