Creative Books

Fan has been a young lady
this two years, and Maud is a spoiled baby. Your mother 's a very
sensible woman, my child."
"What a very queer old lady!" thought Polly; but she said "Yes 'm"
respectfully, and looked at the fire.
"You don't understand what I mean, do you?" asked Madam, still
holding her by the chin.
"No 'm; not quite."
"Well, dear, I 'll tell you. In my day, children of fourteen and
fifteen did n't dress in the height of the fashion; go to parties, as
nearly like those of grown people as it 's possible to make them;
lead idle, giddy, unhealthy lives, and get blas, at twenty. We were
little folks till eighteen or so; worked and studied, dressed and
played, like children; honored our parents; and our days were
much longer in the land than now, it seems to, me."
The old lady appeared to forget Polly at the end of her speech; for
she sat patting the plump little hand that lay in her own, and
looking up at a faded picture of an old gentleman with a ruffled
shirt and a queue.


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