Produced by Bruce Albrecht, Jeannie Howse and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
* * * * *
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For |
| a complete list, please see the end of this document. |
| |
+-----------------------------------------------------------+
* * * * *
PRINCESS POLLY AT PLAY
[Illustration: "They were out in the sunshine."]
PRINCESS POLLY
AT PLAY
By AMY BROOKS
AUTHOR OF
"Princess Polly," "Princess Polly's Playmates," "Princess
Polly at School," "Princess Polly by the Sea,"
"Princess Polly's Gay Winter," etc.
[Illustration]
A.L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers New York
Printed in U.S.A.
Copyright, 1915, by
THE PLATT & PECK CO.
Printed in U.S.A.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I POLLY, ROSE AND GWEN 9
II WHO WAS IT 28
III LITTLE SEA NYMPHS 48
IV WHAT MAX DID 68
V WHAT MAX FOUND 87
VI THE SEA KING'S NYMPHS 106
VII A WEDDING AT CLIFFMORE 125
VIII AUNT ROSE CALLS 144
IX AT AVONDALE 163
X THE SHIP COMES IN 182
XI LITTLE PITCHERS 201
XII MAX A STOWAWAY 220
PRINCESS POLLY AT PLAY
CHAPTER I
POLLY, ROSE AND GWEN
A Summer at Cliffmore!
Princess Polly and Rose Atherton could think of little else.
It was true that Avondale was a charming place in which to live, and
there were pleasant schoolmates and merry times when Winter came.
There were fine lawns and beautiful flowers everywhere, but Polly and
Rose loved the shore, and surely the salt air was delightful, and the
beach a lovely place on which to romp. There was Captain Seaford,
whose little daughter, Sprite, had spent the winter at Avondale, and
a pleasant little playmate and classmate she had been.
She had returned to her home at Cliffmore, and now was counting the
days when Princess Polly and Rose would arrive, and every morning she
would stand in the doorway of her home on the beach, and look in the
direction in which Avondale lay.
It happened one morning that at the same moment that Sprite opened the
door to look out, Princess Polly and Rose were talking of her. They,
too, were out in the sunshine.
"How pretty Sprite looked last Summer when she played that she was a
little mermaid, and lay on the rocks looking down into the water, her
long yellow hair hanging down over her shoulders," Polly said.
"And the day that she invited me over to her house," said Rose, "her
dress was light green, and she wore a string of coral around her neck.
I thought she looked sweet then."
"How we did enjoy her house! We never saw one like it. It was a ship's
hulk, turned upside down, and divided up into rooms. Oh, but it was
cosey!" Polly said.
"And it won't be long before we'll be there at the shore, playing with
Sprite just as we did last Summer," said Rose.
A long time they stood talking. There were such delightful memories of
Cliffmore, and so many pleasures to anticipate. There would be sailing
trips on the "Dolphin," the yacht belonging to Captain Atherton, and
Captain Atherton himself had hinted at some sort of merry-making that
would occur at his fine home on the shore.
"Uncle John doesn't say whether it is to be a party, or what it will
be, but when I asked him if it would be fine, he took me on his knee,
and he said:
"'Rose, little Rose, it will be the brightest, the happiest event that
I ever attended,' so I guess it will be fine, for Uncle John always
means what he says," Rose concluded.
"Oh, we can't help wondering what it will be like, and just when it
will be," Princess Polly said, her hands tightly clasped and her eyes
bright with excitement.
"It's a lovely place to stay in, even if there wasn't a single thing
planned for amusement, but when you know there'll be ever so many good
times happening during the Summer, it makes us wild to start for
Cliffmore."
The sound of footsteps running made them turn, just as Gwen Harcourt
came racing toward them.
She was a little neighbor, so bold, so regardless of the feelings of
others, so apt to tell outrageous stories, that Polly and Rose were
not fond of her. She never stopped to question if she were welcome,
but entered any house where the door stood open, and at once made
herself quite at home, always remaining until she chose to go.
She was evidently quite excited. Her short, curling hair blew about
her face, and her cheeks were red.
"What do you think?" she cried. "I've just come from that big house
over there, where the people have just moved in. I couldn't tell if
I'd like to know them, unless I went when I could see them, so this
morning I went right up to the door, and as it wasn't locked, I opened
it, and went in."
"Why, Gwen Harcourt!" Rose exclaimed.
"Well, what?" Gwen said pertly.
"S'pose I was going to wait and wonder what those people were like? I
guess not. I went right straight in and looked at them, so now I know.
"The lady isn't much to look at, and she wasn't dressed up the least
bit, and the baby that the nursemaid was holding was awful homely.
"Its face was red, and its hair was sort of straight and stringy, and
when it cried, and that was most all the time I was there, it made a
perfectly horrid face.
"There's a boy there, too, and I didn't like him very well," she
continued. "He talked to me some, but he wants to do all the talking,
and I don't like that. I want to talk most of the time, myself."
Polly and Rose managed not to laugh.
"Perhaps if you had been willing to listen, and let him talk more, you
might have liked him better," Polly said.
"No, I wouldn't!" Gwen said, stoutly, "for what little he did say made
me mad. Think how rude he was! When I told him my whole _truly_ name
was Gwendolen Armitage Harcourt, he just said:
"'H'm! Is that so? Well, my name is Jona Jonathan Ebenezer Montgomery,
and that beats your name all hollow.' The lady laughed, but she said:
'Don't tease the little girl. That is not your name at all. Why not
tell her what your real name is?'
"He didn't do it. He just said: 'Oh, bother!' and ran out doors. I
didn't like the boy, but the big room seemed duller after he went out,
so after a while I slipped out, and when I saw you two talking, I came
over here. What were you talking about?"
"We were talking about the fine times we'll have at Cliffmore this
Summer," Polly said, "and we can hardly wait to enjoy them."
"I'd not care to go there," Gwen said, with a toss of her head.
"Well, then," said Rose, "it's lucky you don't have to go there."
"Yes, isn't it?" Gwen said, cheerfully. "I could if I wanted to. Mamma
will go wherever I wish, that is if I just act horrid enough."
"Why, what do you mean?" Polly asked, and Gwen laughed.
"You're funny girls," she said. "Don't either of you know that the way
to get your own way is to scream and be just as horrid as you can
until your mamma 'gives in?'"
"I'd not care to act like that," Princess Polly said, and Rose said:
"Neither would I."
"Well, I want my own way, all the time and everywhere, and that's the
way I get it," declared Gwen, and she danced off down the avenue,
humming as cheerfully as if she had told of doing pleasant things.
"Isn't it queer'?" Rose said. "Gwen tells of being disagreeable, as if
she felt proud of it."
"Mrs. Harcourt does the same thing," said Primrose Polly. "She's
always telling of horrid pranks, and rude things that Gwen says, and
she tells them as if she thought Gwen very smart to act so. It isn't
odd that Gwen behaves so badly, for she likes to act just perfectly
horrid. She says so, and if she thinks her mamma likes it, what is
there to make her stop?"
"And Uncle John says, oh, I'd not tell exactly what he says, but he
said only yesterday that he could not understand how any woman could
let her little daughter grow up like a weed. He said Gwen was pretty
to look at, but as unpleasant as a nettlebush. I'd not like anyone to
say that of me," Rose said.
"Well, no one ever would say that about you," Polly said lovingly.
"Nor you," replied Rose.
Then, their arms clasping each other, they slipped down the sidewalk.
It was but a few days longer that they must wait before sailing to
Cliffmore.
The year before, they had made the trip by train, but this time they
were intending to go a short distance by rail, and then, on Captain
Atherton's yacht, complete the trip by water. It would be a delightful
sail, and as every member of the party loved the water, it was sure to
be a merry little sailing trip down the bay.
Gwen Harcourt had not spoken truthfully when she had said that she
would not wish to go to Cliffmore. Indeed, that very morning she had
used her unpleasant method in an effort to coax her mother to go to
Cliffmore, and for the first time in her little life, it had not
worked.
She had heard from Polly, Rose, and Sprite of the pleasure that they
had enjoyed there, and she had at once decided that no other place
could be as delightful.
"I guess I can go there as well as they can," she had whispered to
herself, and then, running up to the big living room she had first
asked, then coaxed, and there, as a final effort, had screamed for a
half hour. Mrs. Harcourt would, as usual, have quickly agreed at once
to spend the Summer as Gwen wished, but it happened that other plans
already made, rendered it impossible. The silly woman offered
everything that she could think of to pacify Gwen, but Gwen declared
that nothing would make up to her for the refusal to go to Cliffmore.
Then when she found her screaming wholly useless, she dried her eyes,
and rushed out and down the avenue to tell Polly and Rose that she
would not care to go there.
If she had waited a day longer to tell them it would have been as
well, because Mrs. Harcourt, lest the disappointment might be too
hard for Gwen, had, at great inconvenience, changed her plans, and on
the following day she told Gwen that Cliffmore would be their summer
home.
Gwen did not rush out this time to tell the news.
Had she not just said that she would not care to go there?
"I'll say nothing about it, and when they get to Cliffmore, they'll be
s'prised to find me there, but I'll act as if I'd known all along that
I'd be there," thought Gwen.
Mrs. Harcourt and Gwen went the next day, and thus it happened that
when the "Dolphin" sailed up to the pier, the first person that Rose
and Polly saw was Gwen, sitting high on the top of a tall post! It was
a most successful surprise.
"Hello!" she cried, with impish laughter, "I got here 'fore you did!"
"Why so you did," Polly replied. "When did you come?"
"Oh, I've been here some time," she said, laughing again.
"Well, you've not been here a month, Gwen Harcourt!" said Rose. "It
was only three days ago that you were in Avondale, and you said then
that you'd not care to go to Cliffmore!"
"Well, I didn't go," cried Gwen, "I've _come_, and I'm going to stay!"
Of course Sprite had come to meet them, and as the three walked up the
pier they saw that Gwen made no attempt to follow.
She wished them to know that she was at Cliffmore, but having enjoyed
their look of surprise, she preferred to keep her position on the
post.
It was so conspicuous that she knew that everyone coming up from the
boats would surely see her, and beside that pleasure, she could stare
at all the arrivals. Oh yes, her perch on the post delighted her.
Not satisfied with staring at the people, she commenced to make
remarks about them as they passed. As her remarks were largely
directed at their clothes, they were not much pleased.
"Oh, what big feet!" she said, when a big woman passed her, and to
another she said: "What a funny hat."
A fat man turned to frown at her when she said: "My! He must weigh a
ton," and a girl with long red braids blushed hotly when Gwen cried:
"Red! Red! Fire! Fire!"
Her mother would have thought any other child uncouth and ill-bred,
if she did any one of the many outrageous things that Gwen was always
doing. In Gwen she thought it bright and smart, and Gwen held the same
opinion, but a young sailor, happening along just in time to hear her
say something about a Jack Tar, that was not quite pleasing, stopped
for an instant, and looked into her bold, blue eyes.
"Do you know what you need, you little Monkey?" he cried. "You need to
have someone give you a big ducking, and then you'd learn not to be so
smart."
Gwen was too frightened to speak. She thought the sailor meant to give
her the ducking that he said she needed, and she turned so pale that
he let go his hold upon her, leaving her still sitting upon the post,
but as he turned to go he shook his finger at her.
"Not another word, sissy, or someone'll duck you, if I don't," he
said.
A long time she sat motionless upon the post until not only the
sailor, but all of the people had left the pier. Then, looking
cautiously around to learn if anyone was near, she slipped to the
ground, and ran at top speed toward the hotel where she told a most
remarkable tale of the sailor's rudeness to her, winding up by telling
that he had been so mean as to duck her.
"My dear little Gwen!" said her fond mamma.
"Her serge frock seems rather dry for one that has just been plunged
into the water," said a lady who sat near them on the piazza.
"Oh, look at her shoes! They're dry too!" cried a small boy. "Say!
When did you get your ducking?"
"You stop laughing, Max Deland!" cried Gwen. "I guess I could tell
whether he ducked me or not better than you could, for you weren't
there!"
"Oh, yes, you could _tell_!" cried the small boy, "but it might not be
so, for all that, Gwen Harcourt."
Mrs. Harcourt rose quickly, and taking Gwen by the hand, left the
piazza, and went up to her room.
"Strange that any woman would be so foolish as to credit a yarn like
that even if it is her own child that tells it," said the lady who had
spoken of the dry frock that Gwen declared had just been plunged into
water.
"Yes, it is strange, but I've known other women who were nearly as
blind to their children's faults," her friend replied.
"The child is really pretty, but so bold, and pert that although she
arrived less than a week ago, there is not a guest at this hotel who
does not feel relieved when she leaves the piazza. Only think," the
lady continued, "she was out here this morning, sitting in that big
chair that old Mr. Pendleton likes to have. He's ill, and Gwen knew
that he came out expecting to sit in it, but she looked up at him, and
did not stir. 'Gwen, dear,' Mrs. Harcourt said; 'I think Mr. Pendleton
would like that chair.' 'Well, I like it, and I'm going to keep it,'
Gwen said, swinging her legs, and settling back in the chair. 'You
really musn't mind her,' Mrs. Harcourt said.
"'I don't intend to,' he said, and Mrs. Harcourt looked as if she
wondered what he meant."