Creative Books

"Come, now, do say a word to a fellow. I 'm getting the worst of it,
anyway; for there 's Fan, crying her eyes out upstairs, and here are
you stowed away in a dark closet as dumb as a fish, and nobody
but me to bring you both round. I 'd have cut over to the Smythes
and got ma home to fix things, only it looked like backing out of
the scrape; so I did n't," said Tom, as a last appeal.
Polly was glad to hear that Fan was crying. It would do her good;
but she could n't help softening to Tom, who did seem in a
predicament between two weeping damsels. A little smile began to
dimple the cheek that was n't hidden, and then a hand came slowly
out from under the curly head, and was stretched toward him
silently. Tom was just going to give it a hearty shake, when he saw
a red mark on the wrist, and knew what made it. His face changed,
and he took the chubby hand so gently, that Polly peeped to see
what it meant.
"Will you forgive that, too?" he asked, in a whisper, stroking the
red wrist.


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