human
Where's Phronsie? cried Polly, rushing into Mother Fisher's room;
gpt
O dear me, my hair won't stay straight,
human
It looks as if a brush wouldn't do it any harm,
gpt
O dear, dear! well, I've brushed and brushed, but it does no good, said Polly, running over to the mirror;
human
Good work tells generally, said her mother, pausing on her way to the closet for a closer inspection of her and her head;
gpt
Well, I'm always in such a hurry, mourned Polly, brushing furiously on the refractory locks.
human
There, will you stay down?
gpt
One at a time is the best way to take things, said Mrs. Fisher dryly.
human
When you dress yourself, Polly, I'd put my mind on that, if I were you.
gpt
O dear, I suppose so, sighed Polly, left to her own reflections and brushing away.
human
Well, that's the best I can make it look now, for I can't do the braid over. Where is Phronsie, I wonder! Mamsie, she threw down the brush and ran over to put her head in the closet,
gpt
I told her she might run over to Helen Fargo's, right after breakfast, said Mrs. Fisher, her head over a trunk, from which she was taking summer dresses.
human
Polly, I think you'll get one more season's wear out of this pink cambric.
gpt
Oh! I am so glad, cried Polly,
human
with a fond glance at the pink folds and ruffles.
gpt
Well, if Phronsie is over at Helen's, there's no use in asking her to go down town with us.
human
Where are you going?
gpt
Down to Candace's, said Polly.
human
Jasper wants some more pins for his cabinet. No, I don't suppose Phronsie would tear herself away from Helen for all the down-towns in the world.
gpt
You would better let her stay where she is, advised Mother Fisher;
human
Candace was the widow of an old colored servant of Mr. King's; she called herself a