wear at the time, mother put away to be used when we needed it. Such funny bundles as we used to have sometimes: odd shoes, bonnets without crowns, stockings without heels or toes, and old finery of all sorts. We used to rush when a bundle came, and sit round while mother opened it. The boys always made fun of the things, though they were as grateful, really, as any of us. Will made a verse one day, which we thought pretty well for a little chap:—
'To poor country folks
Who haven't any clothes,
Rich folks, to relieve them,
Send old lace gowns and satin bows.'"
"I think that Will is going to be as nice a poet as Mr. Shakespeare," remarked Maud, in a tone of serious conviction.
"He is already a Milton; but I don't believe he will ever be anything but a poet in name," said Polly, working away while she talked.
"Didn't your mother ever let you wear the nice things that came?" asked Maud.
"No; she thought it wasn't the thing for a poor minister's girls to go flourishing about in second-hand finely, so she did what I'm doing now, put away what would be useful and proper for us by and by, and let us play with the shabby, silk bonnets and dirty, flounced gowns. Such fun as we used to have up in our big garret! I remember one day we'd been playing have a ball, and were all rigged up, even the boys. Some new neighbors came to call, and expressed a wish to see us, having been told that we were pattern
