"It's real good truly, Kit. I'll get out some more crackers, and
then you call them up. Boys are never very fussy, when it's
something to eat; and Polly will like the fun." And as she opened
the box and took out a fresh plateful of their dainty crackers,
Katharine invited up her guests who came willingly enough, never
dreaming of the straits to which their friends' hospitality had
put them.
"Whose autograph album is this?" exclaimed Polly, pouncing on a
flaming red and gold volume that lay on the table.
"It belongs to one of the girls up at school," answered Jessie.
"Just see here, and here, and here," she continued, turning over
the leaves and pointing to several well-known names. "You see, she
lives in Boston and her father knows all these people, so she
could get them."
"How splendid!" And Polly bent over to gaze more closely on the
signature of a writer clear to all childish hearts. "I'd give
almost anything for that," she sighed.
"Which is that?" asked Katharine, leaning over to glance at the
page. "Yes, I wouldn't much mind having that one. But, after all,
autograph albums are a bore. I used to care for them, years ago,
but they are all just alike. I had one friend who wrote the same
verse in every album she took, only she changed the name in it.
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