An Old-Fashioned Girl. Луиза Мэй Олкотт

thing that disturbed Polly was the want of exercise. To dress up and parade certain streets for an hour every day, to stand talking in doorways, or drive out in a fine carriage, was not the sort of exercise she liked, and Fan would take no other. Indeed, she was so shocked, when Polly, one day, proposed a run down the mall, that her friend never dared suggest such a thing again. At home, Polly ran and rode, coasted and skated, jumped rope and raked hay, worked in her garden and rowed her boat; so no wonder she longed for something more lively than a daily promenade with a flock of giddy girls, who tilted along in high-heeled boots, and costumes which made Polly ashamed to be seen with some of them. So she used to slip out alone sometimes, when Fanny was absorbed in novels, company, or millinery, and get fine brisk walks round the park, on the unfashionable side, where the babies took their airings; or she went inside, to watch the boys coasting, and to wish she could coast too, as she did at home. She never went far, and always came back rosy and gay.

      One afternoon, just before dinner, she felt so tired of doing nothing, that she slipped out for a run. It had been a dull day; but the sun was visible now, setting brightly below the clouds. It was cold but still, and Polly trotted down the smooth, snow-covered mall, humming to herself, and trying not to feel homesick. The coasters were at it with all their might, and she watched them, till her longing to join the fun grew irresistible. On the hill, some little girls were playing with their sleds – real little girls, in warm hoods and coats, rubber boots and mittens – and Polly felt drawn toward them in spite of her fear of Fan.

      “I want to go down, but I darsn’t, it’s so steep,” said one of these “common children,” as Maud called them.

      “If you’ll lend me your sled, and sit in my lap, I’ll take you down all nice,” answered Polly, in a confidential tone.

      The little girls took a look at her, seemed satisfied, and accepted her offer. Polly looked carefully round to see that no fashionable eye beheld the awful deed, and finding all safe, settled her freight, and spun away downhill, feeling all over the delightsome excitement of swift motion which makes coasting such a favorite pastime with the more sensible portion of the child-world. One after another, she took the little girls down the hill and dragged them up again, while they regarded her in the light of a gray-coated angel, descended for their express benefit. Polly was just finishing off with one delicious “go” all by herself, when she heard a familiar whistle behind her, and before she could get off, up came Tom, looking as much astonished as if he had found her mounted on an elephant.

      “Hullo, Polly! What’ll Fan say to you?” was his polished salutation.

      “Don’t know, and don’t care. Coasting is no harm; I like it, and I’m going to do it, now I’ve got a chance; so clear the lul-la!” And away went independent Polly, with her hair blowing in the wind, and an expression of genuine enjoyment, which a very red nose didn’t damage in the least.

      “Good for you, Polly!” And casting himself upon his sled, with the most reckless disregard for his ribs, off whizzed Tom after her, and came alongside just as she reined up “General Grant” on the broad path below. “Oh, won’t you get it when we go home?” cried the young gentleman, even before he changed his graceful attitude.

      “I shan’t, if you don’t go and tell; but of course you will,” added Polly, sitting still, while an anxious expression began to steal over her happy face.

      “I just won’t, then,” returned Tom, with the natural perversity of his tribe.

      “If they ask me, I shall tell, of course; if they don’t ask, I think there’s no harm in keeping still. I shouldn’t have done it, if I hadn’t known my mother was willing; but I don’t wish to trouble your mother by telling of it. Do you think it was very dreadful of me?” asked Polly, looking at him.

      “I think it was downright jolly; and I won’t tell, if you don’t want me to. Now, come up and have another,” said Tom, heartily.

      “Just one more; the little girls want to go, and this is their sled.”

      “Let ’em take it, ’tisn’t good for much; and you come on mine. Mazeppa’s a stunner; you see if he isn’t.”

      So Polly tucked herself up in front, Tom hung on behind in some mysterious manner, and Mazeppa proved that he fully merited his master’s sincere if inelegant praise. They got on capitally now, for Tom was in his proper sphere, and showed his best side, being civil and gay in the bluff boy-fashion that was natural to him; while Polly forgot to be shy, and liked this sort of “toughening” much better than the other. They laughed and talked, and kept taking “just one more,” till the sunshine was all gone, and the clocks struck dinnertime.

      “We shall be late; let’s run,” said Polly, as they came into the path after the last coast.

      “You just sit still, and I’ll get you home in a jiffy;” and before she could unpack herself, Tom trotted off with her at a fine pace.

      “Here’s a pair of cheeks! I wish you’d get a color like this, Fanny,” said Mr. Shaw, as Polly came into the dining room after smoothing her hair.

      “Your nose is as red as that cranberry sauce,” answered Fan, coming out of the big chair where she had been curled up for an hour or two, deep in “Lady Audley’s Secret.”

      “So it is,” said Polly, shutting one eye to look at the offending feature. “Never mind; I’ve had a good time, anyway,” she added, giving a little prance in her chair.

      “I don’t see much fun in these cold runs you are so fond of taking,” said Fanny, with a yawn and a shiver.

      “Perhaps you would if you tried it;” and Polly laughed as she glanced at Tom.

      “Did you go alone, dear?” asked grandma, patting the rosy cheek beside her.

      “Yes’m; but I met Tom, and we came home together.” Polly’s eyes twinkled when she said that, and Tom choked in his soup.

      “Thomas, leave the table!” commanded Mr. Shaw, as his incorrigible son gurgled and gasped behind his napkin.

      “Please, don’t send him away, sir. I made him laugh,” said Polly, penitently.

      “What’s the joke?” asked Fanny, waking up at last.

      “I shouldn’t think you’d make him laugh, when he’s always making you cwy,” observed Maud, who had just come in.

      “What have you been doing now, sir?” demanded Mr. Shaw, as Tom emerged, red and solemn, from his brief obscurity.

      “Nothing but coast,” he said, gruffly, for papa was always lecturing him, and letting the girls do just as they liked.

      “So’s Polly; I saw her. Me and Blanche were coming home just now, and we saw her and Tom widing down the hill on his sled, and then he dwagged her ever so far!” cried Maud, with her mouth full.

      “You didn’t?” and Fanny dropped her fork with a scandalized face.

      “Yes, I did, and liked it ever so much,” answered Polly, looking anxious but resolute.

      “Did anyone see you?” cried Fanny.

      “Only some little girls, and Tom.”

      “It was horridly improper; and Tom ought to have told you so, if you didn’t know any better. I should be mortified to death if any of my friends saw you,” added Fan, much disturbed.

      “Now, don’t you scold. It’s no harm, and Polly shall coast if she wants to; mayn’t she, grandma?” cried Tom, gallantly coming to the rescue, and securing a powerful ally.

      “My mother lets me; and if I don’t go among the boys, I can’t see what harm there is in it,” said Polly, before Madam could speak.

      “People do many things in the country that are not proper here,” began Mrs. Shaw, in her reproving tone.

      “Let the child do it if she likes, and take Maud with her. I should be glad to have one hearty girl in my house,” interrupted Mr. Shaw, and that was the end of it.

      “Thank you, sir,” said