He's a nice boy, only he's provoked this morning."
Polly offered her little hand over the hedge, and Lester blushed, and
took it.
"Are you the little princess?" he asked bluntly.
"Just a make-believe one," said Polly.
"We all call her 'Princess Polly' at home," Rose explained.
"You look right to be called that anywhere," said Lester, and it was
Polly's turn to blush.
"I'd like to come over some day," he said.
"Come NOW," said Rose.
"I wish I could, but I can't," said the boy. "I've an errand to do for
my aunt, and I ought to go now. I'll come some other day, perhaps to-
morrow. I've some money, and I'd like to treat."
He looked admiringly at Polly, and Rose was delighted.
"He's ever so much fun," she said, when Lester had gone to do the errand
that he had spoken of.
"He lives the next house to Evangeline," she continued, "and he's
awfully tired of her poetry."
Polly did not wonder at that.
"And I DO hope, when he comes, Evangeline won't come with him," said
Rose.
"So do I," agreed Polly, "only it may be that she's nice SOMETIMES."
Rose came closer, and looking straight into Polly's blue eyes, she said:
"She brings her old poetry book EVERY time!"
"Oh, dear, can't she leave it at home?" said Polly.
"She WON'T," said Rose, "and she's either writing in it, or reading it
all the time, so there's not a minute for play."
"Doesn't she care for 'Tag' or 'Hide-and-Seek?'" questioned Polly.
"She doesn't EVER like anything but that poetry," declared Rose.
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