Some of her attempts were successful, others were failures; but she kept them all, fine or funny, knowing the children at home would enjoy anything new.

Some of Maud's cast-off toys had been neatly mended for Kitty; some of Fan's old ribbons and laces were converted into dolls' finery; and Tom's little figures, whittled out of wood in idle minutes, were laid away to show Will what could be done with a knife.
"What rubbish!" said Fanny.
"Queer girl, is n't she ?" added Tom, who had followed to see what was going on.
"Don't you laugh at Polly's things.

She makes nicer dolls than you, Fan; and she can wite and dwar ever so much better than Tom," cried Maud.
"How do you know?
I never saw her draw," said Tom.
"Here 's a book with lots of pictures in it.

I can't wead the witing; but the pictures are so funny." Eager to display her friend's accomplishments, Maud pulled out a fat little book, marked "Polly's Journal," and spread it in her lap.
"Only the pictures; no harm in taking a look at 'em," said Tom.
"Just one peep," answered Fanny; and the next minute both were laughing at a droll sketch of Tom in the gutter, with the big dog howling over him, and the velocipede running away.

Very rough and faulty, but so funny, that it was evident Polly's sense of humor was strong.