"Oh, no, I shan't!" returned Poppy, much flattered by his interest, and hanging out still farther.
"Stop that, instantly, or I'll go in and inform the colonel!" roared the old gentleman, getting angry.
"I don’t care," shouted Poppy; and she didn't, for she knew grandpa wasn't at home.
"Little gypsy! I'll settle her," muttered the old man, bustling up the steps, and ringing the bell, as if the house was on fire.
No one was in but the servants; and, when he'd told old Emily what the matter was, she went up to "settle" Poppy. But Poppy was already settled, demurely playing with her doll, and looking quite innocent. Emily scolded; and Poppy promised never to do it again, if she might stay and play in the big room. Being busy about dinner, Emily was glad to be rid of her, and left her, to go and tell the old gentleman it was all right.
"Ain't they crosspatches?" said Poppy to her doll. "Never mind, dear: you shall hang out, if I can't. I guess the old man won't order you in, any way."
Full of this idea, Poppy took her long-suffering dolly, and, tying a string to her neck, danced her out of the window. Now this dolly had been through a great deal. Her head had been cut off (and put on again); she had been washed, buried, burnt, torn, soiled, and banged about till she was a mournful object. Poppy loved her very much; for she was two feet tall, and had once been very handsome: so her trials only endeared her to her little mamma. Away she went, skipping and prancing like mad,—a funny sight, for Poppy had taken off her clothes, and she hadn't a hair on her head.
Poppy went to another window of the room for this performance, because in the opposite house lived five
