Half a Dozen Girls

Half a Dozen Girls, by Anna
Chapin Ray

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Title: Half a Dozen Girls
Author: Anna Chapin Ray

Release Date: August, 2004 [EBook #6360] [Yes, we are more than
one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on December 1,
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Edition: 10
Language: English
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DOZEN GIRLS ***

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HALF A DOZEN GIRLS
by
ANNA CHAPIN RAY

TO MY PARENTS
I OFFER THESE MEMORIES OF A HAPPY, NAUGHTY
CHILDHOOD.
My fairest child, I have no song to give you; No lark could pipe to skies
so dull and gray: Yet, ere we part, one lesson I can leave you For every
day.
"Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever; Do noble things, not
dream them, all day long: And so make life, death, and that vast forever
One grand, sweet song."

CHARLES KINGSLEY.

CONTENTS.
I. THE ADAMS FAMILY
II. THE V
III. THE GIRLS TRY TO IMPROVE THEIR MINDS
IV. MISS BEAN COMES TO LUNCH
V. TWO MORE GIRLS
VI. POLLY ENCOUNTERS THE SERVANT QUESTION
VII. POLLY'S HOUSEKEEPING
VIII. HALLOWEEN
IX. THE NEW READING CLUB
X. POLLY'S POEM
XI. JEAN'S CHRISTMAS EVE
XII. HALF A DOZEN COOKS
XIII. ALAN AND POLLY HAVE A DRESS REHEARSAL
XIV. POLLY'S DARK DAY
XV. THE PLAY
XVI. JOB GOES TO A FUNERAL
XVII. MISS BEAN'S VISIT IS RETURNED

XVIII. MR. BAXTER TAKES A NAP
XIX. KATHARINE'S CALL
XX. ONE LAST GLIMPSE
CHAPTER I.
THE ADAMS FAMILY.
"'There was a little girl, And she had a little curl, And it hung right
down over her forehead; And when she was good, She was very, very
good, And when she was bad, she was horrid!'"
"And that's you!" chanted Polly Adams in a vigorous crescendo, as she
watched the retreating figure of her guest. Then climbing down from
her perch on the front gate, she added to herself, "Mean old thing! I
s'pose she thinks I care because she's gone home; but I'm glad of it, so
there!" And with an emphatic shake of her curly head, she ran into the
house.
Up-stairs, in the large front room, sat her mother and her aunt, busy
with their sewing. The blinds were closed, to keep out the warm sun of
a sultry July day, and only an occasional breath of air found its way in
between their tightly turned slats. The whir of the locust outside, and
the regular creak, creak of Aunt Jane's tall rocking-chair were the only
sounds to break the stillness. This peaceful scene was ruthlessly
disturbed by Polly, who came flying into the room and dropped into a
chair at her mother's side.
"Oh, how warm you are here!" she exclaimed, as she pushed back the
short red-gold hair that curled in little, soft rings about her forehead.
"Little girls that will run on such a day as this must expect to be warm,"
remarked Aunt Jane sedately, while she measured a hem with a bit of
paper notched to show the proper width. "Now if you and Molly would
bring your patchwork up here, and sew quietly with your mother and
me, you would be quite cool and comfortable."

"Patchwork!" echoed Polly, with a scornful little laugh. "Girls don't
sew patchwork nowadays, Aunt Jane."
"It would be better for them if they did, then," returned Aunt Jane
severely. "It is a much more useful way of spending one's time, than
embroidering nonsensical red wheels and flowers and birds on your
aprons, as you have been doing. Your grandmother used to make us
sew patchwork; and before I was your age, I had pieced up three
bedquilts,--one rising-sun, one fox-chase, and the other just plain
boxes."
"I don't