“They’ve got some young folks in the singing seats that lack training,” said Arctura, and then she dismissed that subject. “You put me in mind of that ‘Polly Perkins’ someway,” she remarked, sitting down in the big kitchen rocker, and pulling the little girl into her lap. “To be sure, your name’s Mary, and, of course, favor’s a deceitful thing and beauty’s a vain snare, but someway you brought that song to mind when you were crimping those pie edges.” “I don’t believe I’m much like a queen, Miss Arctura,” said Polly, greatly pleased, but a little confused. “I haven’t any crown, you see, or any trailing dresses, and I haven’t anything to be proud about. I expect queens look like this, don’t you?” and, springing to her feet, Polly tossed back her head and stood with her chin raised and her small nose tilted up into the air, gazing out of the window. “Mercy me, that’s almost like play acting!” cried Arctura. “I guess Hiram can teach you gestures easy enough. I understand you’re going to commit ‘On Linden.’ Well, it’s a real stirring piece, and it’ll give you good exercise. Hiram’s all over the lot, when he says it. He rehearsed it to me last night, and I said to him he’d got to bear in mind that little girls weren’t grown men, and not keep you thrashing round, stooping down, and reaching up every last living minute. I pointed out a few places where he could omit some of his arm work, and he’s going to do so. I shall expect to be invited to a performance when you get it all learned.” “Yes, indeed,” said Polly, gayly, “and perhaps Miss Pomeroy would come, too. I know some pieces that Uncle Blodgett taught me, but they hadn’t any gestures except a bow at the beginning and one at the end. And Mr. Hiram must know other poems, doesn’t he?” “He’s full of ’em as a nut is of meat,” laughed Arctura, “both prose pieces and poetry, and all he wants is opportunity. Why, I’ve heard him many a time, spouting away to himself in the barn, but I’ve never taken any notice, for you give an inch to these people that recite, and they’ll take an ell quick enough; it’s just like starting a leak. But a regular performance, such as you speak of, with different ones taking part, I believe Miss Hetty would enjoy it for once, anyway; she don’t have much to amuse her.” “And you would sing?” asked Polly, eagerly. “Um-m--’twould be according to whether I could depend on my voice. I could try it with the scales, I expect, late in the afternoon,” said Arctura, “and then we could give the entertainment right after supper, soon as the dishes were cleared up. Goodness me! look at that clock! It’s most half-past ten!” and then there was a busy time in the kitchen until the noon hour brought dinner and rest. CHAPTER XII SESAME AND LILIES