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An Old-Fashioned Girl

was not often offered. She could not explain the feeling; but she was glad when the play
was done, and they were safe at home, where kind grandma was waiting to see them
comfortably into bed.
"Did you have a good time, dear?" she asked, looking at Polly's feverish cheeks and
excited eyes.
"I don't wish to be rude, but I did n't," answered Polly. "Some of it was splendid; but a
good deal of it made me want to go under the seat. People seemed to like it, but I don't
think it was proper."
As Polly freed her mind, and emphasized her opinion with a decided rap of the boot she
had just taken off, Fanny laughed, and said, while she pirouetted about the room, like
Mademoiselle Therese, "Polly was shocked, grandma. Her eyes were as big as
saucers. her face as red as my sash, and once I thought she was going to cry. Some of
it was rather queer; but, of course, it was proper, or all our set would n't go. I heard Mrs.
Smythe Perkins say, 'It was charming; so like dear Paris;' and she has lived abroad; so,
of course, she knows what is what."
"I don't care if she has. I know it was n't proper for little girls to see, or I should n't have
been so ashamed!" cried sturdy Polly, perplexed, but not convinced, even by Mrs.
Smythe Perkins.
"I think you are right, my dear; but you have lived in the country, and have n't yet
learned that modesty has gone out of fashion." And with a good-night kiss, grandma left
Polly to dream dreadfully of dancing in jockey costume, on a great stage; while Tom
played a big drum in the orchestra; and the audience all wore the faces of her father
and mother, looking sorrowfully at her, with eyes like saucers, and faces as red as
Fanny's sash.
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