There's no knowing when we shall have
another day that is warm enough, so run right out and do it now."
Polly went, for she dared not disobey; but she went with a
frowning face, and after she had slammed the door behind her, she
further freed her mind by remarking, with incautious emphasis,--
"I don't care, I think it's too mean!"
Of course Aunt Jane chanced to be passing along through the hall,
just then. She stopped directly in Polly's pathway and said, with
deliberate, cutting severity,--
"Think your mamma is mean! Why, Polly Adams, I am surprised at
you! I shall feel it my duty to speak to your mother about this."
Then Polly lost all self-control.
"I think you're meaner than she is!" And the outside door hanged
even more loudly than the other had done.
By the time she was on the steps, Polly longed to sit down and
cry. Her temples were throbbing violently, and her throat felt
swollen and aching. There were days when everything seemed to go
wrong, she thought desperately; she had gone to school feeling so
happy, that morning, but she had torn her gown at recess, and had
failed in her history lesson, and now she must go out and wash
those hateful old blinds.
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