"That was splendid! Oh, Tom, thank you so much for asking me
to-night. I feel just like having a regular good time," cried Polly,
when she stopped, with her hat hanging round her neck and her
hair looking as if she had been out in a high wind.
"Glad of it. I felt so myself and thought we 'd have a jolly little
party all in the family," said Tom, looking much gratified at her
delight.
"Is Trix sick?" asked Polly.
"Gone to New York for a week."
"Ah, when the cat's away the mice will play."
"Exactly. Come and have another turn."
Before they could start, however, the awful spectacle of a little dog
trotting out of the room with a paper parcel in his mouth, made
Polly clasp her hands with the despairing cry: "My bonnet! Oh, my
bonnet!"
"Where? what? which?" And Tom looked about him, bewildered.
"Snip's got it. Save it! save it!"
"I will!" And Tom gave chase with more vigor than discretion.
Snip, evidently regarding it as a game got up for his special
benefit, enjoyed the race immensely and scampered all over the
house, shaking the precious parcel like a rat while his master ran
and whistled, commanded and coaxed, in vain.
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