An Old-fashioned Girl | Page 5

a cool stare that utterly
quenched him.
"Where in thunder is she?" growled Tom, walking off in high dudgeon.
The quick tap of feet behind him made him turn in time to see a
fresh-faced little girl running down the long station, and looking as if
she rather liked it. As she smiled, and waved her bag at him, he stopped
and waited for her, saying to himself, "Hullo! I wonder if that 's Polly?"
Up came the little girl, with her hand out, and a half-shy, half-merry
look in her blue eyes, as she said, inquiringly, "This is Tom, is n't it?"
"Yes. How did you know?" and Tom got over the ordeal of
hand-shaking without thinking of it, he was so surprised.
"Oh, Fan told me you 'd got curly hair, and a funny nose, and kept
whistling, and wore a gray cap pulled over your eyes; so I knew you
directly." And Polly nodded at him in the most friendly manner, having
politely refrained from calling the hair "red," the nose "a pug," and the
cap "old," all of which facts Fanny had carefully impressed upon her
memory.
"Where are your trunks?" asked Tom, as he was reminded of his duty
by her handing him the bag, which he had not offered to take.
"Father told me not to wait for any one, else I 'd lose my chance of a
hack; so I gave my check to a man, and there he is with my trunk;" and
Polly walked off after her one modest piece of baggage, followed by
Tom, who felt a trifle depressed by his own remissness in polite
attentions. "She is n't a bit of a young lady, thank goodness! Fan did n't
tell me she was pretty. Don't look like city girls, nor act like 'em,
neither," he thought, trudging in the rear, and eyeing with favor the

brown curls bobbing along in front.
As the carriage drove off, Polly gave a little bounce on the springy seat,
and laughed like a delighted child. "I do like to ride in these nice hacks,
and see all the fine things, and have a good time, don't you?" she said,
composing herself the next minute, as if it suddenly occurred to her that
she was going a-visiting.
"Not much," said Tom, not minding what he said, for the fact that he
was shut up with the strange girl suddenly oppressed his soul.
"How 's Fan? Why did n't she come, too?" asked Polly, trying to look
demure, while her eyes danced in spite of her.
"Afraid of spoiling her crinkles;" and Tom smiled, for this base
betrayal of confidence made him feel his own man again.
"You and I don't mind dampness. I 'm much obliged to you for coming
to take care of me."
It was kind of Polly to say that, and Tom felt it; for his red crop was a
tender point, and to be associated with Polly's pretty brown curls
seemed to lessen its coppery glow. Then he had n't done anything for
her but carry the bag a few steps; yet, she thanked him. He felt grateful,
and in a burst of confidence, offered a handful of peanuts, for his
pockets were always supplied with this agreeable delicacy, and he
might be traced anywhere by the trail of shells he left behind him.
As soon as he had done it, he remembered that Fanny considered them
vulgar, and felt that he had disgraced his family. So he stuck his head
out of the window, and kept it there so long, that Polly asked if
anything was the matter. "Pooh! who cares for a countrified little thing
like her," said Tom manfully to himself; and then the spirit of mischief
entered in and took possession of him.
"He 's pretty drunk; but I guess he can hold his horses," replied this
evil-minded boy, with an air of calm resignation.
"Is the man tipsy? Oh, dear! let 's get out! Are the horses bad? It 's very
steep here; do you think it 's safe?" cried poor Polly, making a cocked
hat of her little beaver, by thrusting it out of the half-open window on
her side.
"There 's plenty of folks to pick us up if anything happens; but perhaps
it would be safer if I got out and sat with the man;" and Tom quite
beamed with the brilliancy of this sudden mode of relief.
"Oh, do, if you ain't afraid! Mother would be so anxious if anything

should happen to me, so far away!" cried Polly, much distressed.
"Don't you be worried. I 'll manage the old chap, and the horses too;"
and opening the door, Tom vanished aloft, leaving poor victimized
Polly to quake inside, while he placidly revelled