But poor Rosalinda's eyes wouldn't open, and the more Polly shook her, the tighter shut they stayed, till she ran, crying, to mamma, to ask for help. Mamma had seen it all; so now she took Polly and Rosalinda both on her lap, and gave what Polly called "a little preach."
[Illustration: "JUST OPEN YOUR EYES, AND SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE."]
It did her good, real good, and at last she said: "Dear mamma, if Rosalinda will only open her eyes once more and look at me, I believe I will never be so naughty again."
So mamma found a way to open the pretty blue eyes, and Polly kissed them both, and then kissed mamma for helping her.
By the time the party came, everything was ready. Polly was very good, and let the girls play with her beautiful Rosalinda the whole time. I do not know how long the good will last. I hope till every one forgets to call her Discontented Polly, and learns to call her Darling Polly instead.
Well, my dears, spring is here at last, and it is very pleasant to see the buds and flowers again. I begin to hear the voices of the children more often, too; and now and then I catch a glimpse of bright faces and new dresses.
By the way, talking of dresses puts me in mind of a paragram that came the other day, about
Something quite new to you, I dare say, for which of you ever heard of trimming cows with their own horns and ears? How should you like to see a cow with her ears--poor thing!--cut to the shape of a leaf with notched edges, and horns trained in some queer shape, twisted into curls, or divided into four, with two meeting overhead, and two turned down toward the ground? It would be a dreadful sight to me, I am sure; but the Africans admire such things. They consider this trimming of cows a sort of fine art. You don't see how they manage the horns? Well, they begin when the horns are young; divide each into two, or more, and gradually train them, while growing, in any way they choose. Of course it must hurt the poor cows, and take a great deal of time; but the people who train cows' horns have not very tender feelings, and they are richer in spare time than in anything else. Besides, they do not have to trim their own clothes much--they're savages.
I have been told that flies have suckers on their feet, and climb up window-panes by using them, much as boys lift smooth stones with a piece of soaked leather and a string. Is this so, little folks?