Ma wanted
me to cut them down, for Polly used to put off so much
time with them, but I didn't want to. Ma was mad, too,
you bet," he said, with a reminiscent smile at his own
foolhardiness.
Pearl was thinking--she could see the poppies through
the window, bright and glowing in the morning light. They
rocked lightly in the wind, and a shower of crimson petals
fell. Poor Polly! she hadn't seen them.
"What's Polly's other name?" she asked quickly.
"Polly Bragg," he answered. "She was awful nice, Polly
was, and jolly, too. Ma thought she was lazy. She used
to cry a lot and wish she could go home; but my! she
could sing fine."
Pearl went on with her work with a preoccupied air.
"Tom, can you take a parcel for me to town to-day?"
"I am not goin'," he said in surprise. "Pa always goes
if we need anything. I haven't been in town for a month."
"Don't you go to church?" Pearl asked in surprise.
"No, you bet I don't, not now. The preacher was sassy to
pa and tried to get money. Pa says he'll never touch wood
in his church again, and pa won't give another cent
either, and, mind you, last year we gave twenty-five
dollars."
"We paid fourteen dollars," Pearl said, "and Mary got
six dollars on her card."
"Oh, but you town people don't have the expenses we have."
"That's true, I guess," Pearl said doubtfully--she was
wondering about the boot bills. "Pa gets a dollar and a
quarter every day, and ma gets seventy-five cents when
she washes.
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