"One of these days you will look back, and see how happy you are now, and be sorry you didn't prize your parents while you had them." Flyaway rested her rosy cheek on Polly's knee, and watched the gray knitting-work as it came out of the basket.

She did not understand the sad woman's words, but was attracted by her loving nature, and liked to sit near her, a minute at a time, and have her hair stroked.
"There, now," said Dotty, "you are knitting, Miss Polly; and it's so lonesome all round the house, with mother not coming till to-morrow, that I should think you might tell--well, tell an anecdote." "I don't know where to begin, or what to say," replied Polly, falling into deep thought.
"I just believe she does sigh at the end of every needle," mused Dotty; "I'm going to keep 'count.

That's once." "Please, Miss Polly, tell a _nanny-goat_," said Flyaway, dancing around the room.

"Please, Miss Polly, and I'll kiss you a pretty little kiss." "Twice," whispered Dotty.
"Well, I'll tell you something that will pass for an anecdote, on condition that you call me _aunt_ Polly; that name warms my heart a great deal better than _Miss_ Polly." "Three!" said Dotty aloud.

"We will, honestly, if we can think of it, aunt Polly .-- Four." "Le'me gwout for the sidders, first," said busy Flyaway.
"There, aunt Polly, you forgot it that time! You sprang up quick to shut the door, and forgot it." "Forgot what ?" "You didn't sigh at the end of your needle." "Why, Dotty, how you do talk! Any one would suppose, by that, I was in the habit of sighing! I have a stitch in my side, child, and it makes me draw a long breath now and then; that's all." Flyaway was back again, "With step-step light, and tip-tap slight Against the door." "Come in," said Dotty, "and see if you can keep still two whole minutes; but I know you can't." Miss Polly let her work fall in her lap, and drew up the left sleeve of her black alpaca dress.