“Ain't anything the matter with my tongue, is there?” she asked, turning her head to one side and studying him quizzically. “I don't think there is,” he replied good-naturedly. “How did I come to fall in here, anyhow?” she asked, as she studied the walls of the unfamiliar room. “We brought you here.” “It's a swell place,” she conceded grudgingly. “We are comfortable,” he admitted, as a tell-tale smile again hovered about his lips. He was thinking of the changes that he must presently make in Miss Polly's vocabulary. “Is this the 'big top?' she asked. “The--what?” he stammered. “The main tent,” she explained. “Well, no; not exactly. It's going to be your room now, Miss Polly.” “My room! Gee! Think a' that!” she gasped, as the possibility of her actually having a room all of her own took hold of her mind. “Much obliged,” she said with a nod, feeling that something was expected of her. She knew no other phrase of gratitude than the one “Muvver” Jim and Toby had taught her to say to the manager when she received from him the first stick of red and white striped candy. “You're very welcome,” Douglas answered with a ring of genuine feeling in his voice. “Awful quiet, ain't it?” she ventured, after a pause. “Guess that's what woke me up.” Douglas laughed good-naturedly at the thought of quiet as a disturber, and added that he feared it might at first be rather dull for her, but that Jim and Toby would send her news of the circus, and that she could write to them as soon as she was better. “I'll have to be a heap better 'an I ever was 'fore I can write much,” Polly drawled, with a whimsical little smile. “I will write for you,” the pastor volunteered, understanding her plight. “You will?” For the first time he saw a show of real pleasure in her eyes. “Every day,” Douglas promised solemnly. “And you will show me how?” “Indeed I will.” “How long am I in for?” she asked. “The doctor can tell better about that when he comes.” “The doctor! So--it's as bad as that, eh?” “Oh, that need not frighten you,” Douglas answered consolingly. “I ain't frightened,” she bridled quickly; “I ain't never scared of nothin.' It's only 'cause they need me in the show that I'm a-kickin'.” “Oh, they will get along all right,” he said reassuringly. “Get along?” Polly flashed with sudden resentment. “Get along WITHOUT MY ACT!” It was apparent from her look of astonishment that Douglas had completely lost whatever ground he had heretofore gained in her respect. “Say, have you seen that show?” She waited for his answer with pity and contempt. “No,” admitted John, weakly. “Well I should say you ain't, or you wouldn't make no crack like that. I'm the whole thing in that push,” she said with an air of self-complacency; “and with me down and out, that show will be on the bum for fair.” “I beg your pardon,” was all Douglas could say, confused by the sudden volley of unfamiliar words.