A week's vacation!

All of the pupils were delighted, but Princess Polly was especially happy, because with Rose, and Sprite, the week would be a week of pleasure, no lessons, and all play.

"What shall we do on Monday?" she asked, as they skipped along the sidewalk.

It was Monday morning, and she did not wish to have a moment wasted.

"Come over to my house, and we'll sit in the big hammock and talk, and perhaps something will happen that will just tell us what to do."

The gay-colored hammock had been hung on the sunny side of the house, and the three little friends sat swinging and talking, and soon they had planned enough doings to occupy a month, instead of a week.

They were talking of Lena, and Leslie, when Sprite asked:

"When have you seen Gwen Harcourt?"

"They haven't seen me for ever so long!" cried an answering voice, and Gwen appeared around the corner, laughing saucily, because she had been listening, and had heard Sprite's question.

Of course she had some very large stories to tell regarding the private school that she was attending, and her classmates there.

"I wouldn't care to go to any other school," she said, "and I love to take the train every morning. I'd stay at home some days if I was near school and walked, but I like to ride on the trains so I never miss a day.

"Guess what I did just now," she said, laughing as if to imply that what she had done was an absolutely clever joke.

"What did you do?" Polly asked, not because she really cared, but rather from curiosity as to what especially abominable thing it had pleased Gwen to do.

Gwen never waited to be urged.

Seating herself on the piazza, railing, she swung her legs as she recounted the morning's happenings, making the list as long as possible.

"Just before I came over here I went into the room upstairs that mamma calls the 'Picture Gallery,' and I looked around for a while just to see which I liked the best.

"It seemed to me that the one that was on the first line, was looking right at me, and I almost thought the pink feathers on her hat bobbed just a little.

"The longer I looked at her the more it seemed to me that she really was looking at me, and once I thought she smiled. I had a lovely new knife that my cousin Jack had given me. I went close to the picture, and more than ever it seemed as if she smiled at me, and I thought if I had her out of the frame she'd be lovelier than any doll I own.

"It didn't take me more than ten minutes to whip out my little knife, and cut her right out from the background, but say! After I'd cut her out, she didn't look nearly as pretty as I had thought she would. Just look at her!

"The paint looks real dauby when you get close up to her."

"Why, Gwen Harcourt!" cried Princess Polly; "you truly did cut her from the picture!"

"Of course I did. Did you really s'pose I'd tell you I did if I didn't?"

"You might have been joking when you said it," said Polly.

"Well, I wasn't joking," Gwen replied, "and now I don't know where to put this, now I have it."

"What did you mean to do, when you first thought of cutting the picture out?" questioned Rose.

"Oh, I thought I'd keep her in the dolls' house, but she looks bigger in my hand than she did in the frame. I don't believe she'd go into the doll's house, and I don't b'lieve I want her to, for really I don't care for her. Do either of you want her?"

She extended her arm, holding the picture at arm's length, while she looked from one to the other.

"We don't want her," said Polly, "and oh, this time, Gwen, your mamma will surely be angry!"

"Pooh! See 'f she is. I guess I'll run home and see what she says," chirped Gwen, and gaily humming, she ran down the walk, and hurried home.

* * * * * * * *

Mrs. Harcourt had been entertaining guests for a few days, and it happened that soon after Gwen had left the house, the mischief had been discovered.

"Oh, can it be possible that there have been thieves prowling about the house in the night?" cried Mrs. Harcourt. "It really makes me feel quite ill to think of it."

At that moment, Gwen came flying into the house, and up the stairway.

"Somebody take this old picture and stick it back in the hole it came from. I thought it would make a nice big doll, but I guess I don't want her!"

"Oh, what a naughty thing for a child to do!" cried one of the ladies.
"That fine picture is absolutely ruined."

"Naughty!" cried Mrs. Harcourt, "no, indeed! As you say, the picture is ruined, but Gwen has proved her love for Art, and her artistic nature. She felt so attracted to the picture that she was actually obliged to take it with her when she went out. She surely loves Art. As I have always said: 'Gwen is a most unusual child. She shows great force of character, and I can overlook the mistake she made in cutting the canvas, because the act showed me another fine trait,—the love of Art. I do wonder if she will be an artist?"

The guests were disgusted. They wondered how any mother could be so foolish as to think a piece of costly mischief showed either love of art or talent, instead of wilful wrong-doing.

"Gwen is a pretty child," said one woman, "and some one who had sense enough to correct her and make her behave, could train her to be a pleasing young girl, when she is a few years older, but her mother could never do that!"

"No, indeed," the other replied. "Mrs. Harcourt is spoiling her little daughter as fast as she can. I had promised to stay a week," she continued, "but I think I will make some excuse and leave here day after to-morrow. I am very fond of Mrs. Harcourt, but the child is so unpleasant that I can not remain."

The two friends were in the room that they had shared during their visit. In another room Mrs. Harcourt was changing Gwen's frock, and ribbons, to make her yet more attractive when she should appear at lunch. A less beautiful costume, and a bit of training in ordinary rules of courtesy, would have been far more beneficial. Mrs. Harcourt felt that Gwen must, at all times, be daintily dressed, but she permitted her to do or say whatever she chose, and at times when she was hopelessly rude, the silly mother thought her charming.

In the big hammock the three playmates still were swinging.

"Come!" said Polly, "let's walk around the garden, and when we come to the terrace, we'll sit down, and listen to the story that Rose promised to tell."

"No, the story that Sprite was to tell!" cried Rose.

"No, the story that Princess Polly found in the red book yesterday,"
Sprite said, laughing because the others did.

"We'll run a race!" cried Polly, "and the one that gets there last will be the one to tell the story."

The others agreed, and Polly counted:

"One! Two! Three!"

They were off like the wind, past the fountain, the gates, the big clump of rose bushes, and it happened that Rose and Sprite were the first to reach the terrace.

"All right!" cried Princess Polly, "I'll tell the story of the 'Big,
Brave Knight.'"

"Does it begin with: 'Once upon a time'?" Sprite asked, eagerly.

"Oh, yes," Polly said. "Once upon a time there lived a knight who was big, and brave, and he loved a princess who was so beautiful that it was like looking at the sun to look at her face, because her beauty was so dazzling.

"She wasn't very happy, for who'd be happy when an old witch had enchanted her?"

"Oh, oo!" purred little Sprite, "I love a story that tells about folks that are enchanted."

"So do I," agreed Rose. "Now go on, Polly. How was she enchanted?"

"Oh, I wish I had the book right here, so I could read every word of it to you, but I let Leslie Grafton take it home to read, so I'll tell it as well as I can.

"Where did I stop? Oh, I know. I'd just told you that the lovely princess was enchanted. Lora was her name, and she lived in a fine castle way up on a great, high mountain. The picture showed the castle, and it looked as if the side of the mountain was all ledges.

"On sunny days, she wandered around the castle gardens, picking the flowers, or feeding her pets, and when storm clouds hung over the mountain, she strolled through the great halls, playing her guitar, and sweetly singing.

"Often she leaned on the wall that bordered the gardens, and for hours she would gaze at the far distant plains.

"'Across those plains will come the prince who will set you free,' the old witch had said, and then she had laughed, and under her breath had muttered: 'That is, if he has the bravery to ride his charger up this steep mountain side.'"

"Did a prince come?" questioned Sprite.

"And was he fine, and brave?" Rose asked.

Princess Polly laughed at their eager questions.

"The book says:

"'Many princes came, but when they saw the ledge going straight up to the castle, they turned back, saying:

"'"No man could keep in the saddle, and no horse could climb such a huge crag as that. Both would fall and be dashed to pieces."'

"One day, when the sun was bright and the air was very clear, the princess became restless, and tired of roaming through hall, and garden, and she ran to the wall, once more to look off across the plain.

"A long time she stood watching, when, far, far over where the sky and land seemed to meet, she saw something flashing in the sunlight.

"At first it appeared to stand still, but after a little while, she saw that it was coming nearer.

"Brighter and brighter flashed the spot that she had been watching, and a moment later, she saw that it was a spear held aloft, in the hand of a man in armor.

"On, on he came, and soon she saw that his armor was of silver, and that the plumes on his helmet were white.

"Nearer and nearer he rode, and now, as he reached the foot of the cliff, the Princess Lora saw that he was handsome, for his visor was up, and even from that height she could see that his eyes were dark, and fine. He had seen her portrait that a great artist had painted, and he had vowed that he would win her.

"Bravely he urged his white steed up the side of the cliff, and the charger, placing his hoofs in the crevices, climbed steadily higher until, at last, the brave knight stood at the castle gate, blowing his bugle to demand admittance.

"At the sound of the bugle, the iron gates flew open, he rode boldly into the courtyard, and up to the door. He had shown himself to be so brave that no one dared oppose him, and after staying a month at the castle, he rode away, carrying the lovely Princess Lora as his bride, and they lived happy ever after."

"There!" cried Polly, "I've told that almost word for word."

"That was a lovely story," said Rose, "and I always like them when they commence, 'Once upon a time,' and end with, 'They lived happy ever after.'"

"So do I," said Sprite, "and just think of the lovely times we'll have this Summer, when we're all at the Cliffs, at Cliffmore, that is, if you're coming down to the shore. Oh, are you?"

"Uncle John says we'll enjoy the earlier part of the Summer here, and then go over to his lovely house at Cliffmore for the rest of the Summer."

"Why, that's just what my papa said, last evening," said Princess
Polly, "and I do believe they've planned it together."

"I'll go home just as soon as school closes," said Sprite, "and I'll be company for ma, I'll gather lovely shells for you to keep, I'll read to pa evenings, but most of all, I'll be watching the long white road that leads from the pier.

"Oh, let's play this hammock is the boat to Cliff more!" she cried, "and we'll call the different landings."

"All right!" cried Rose, "and do you hear that funny creak?" she asked.
"Well, that is the steamer just starting off."

They swung a while, and then Sprite shouted the name of the first stopping-place.

"Seaman's Port!" she cried. "This is where they always roll off lots of barrels."

"What's in them?" Polly asked.

"Oh, salt pork, and vegetables, and, oh, all sorts of things that they can't buy on the island."

"Seafarm Ledge!" she next shouted.

"All of us get out here!" cried Sprite, "because this is the place where the gentlemen sit around and do nothing, while the ladies dress up, and walk, and walk, and walk up and down the board walk."

There must have been a very rough sea, for the hammock rolled and pitched, until it seemed as if the little voyagers would surely be thrown overboard, so violently did the steamer lurch.

The passengers were evidently but little frightened. In truth, they appeared to think the trip a huge joke, for they laughed gaily; at last Sprite cried:

"Cliffmore! Cliffmore! Every one get out, because this steamer goes no farther!"

"Is that true, Sprite, that the steamer Queen of the Ocean stops at
Cliffmore, and then turns and goes back?"

"Oh, yes," said Sprite. "Some of the boats go farther, but that vessel never does."

"Well, we had a fine trip in our hammock-steamer," said Princess Polly, "and if our vessel did pitch pretty badly, what did we care, while the sky was blue and cloudless overhead?"

"It has been bright and sunny here at Avondale," said Sprite, "and I've had a lovely time, and I only long to go home, just because it is home."

"But soon after you go back to Cliffmore, Rose and I will come, and then we three will play together, and play all day, because it will be vacation, no lessons, and no school."

"Mamma is sure that this Summer at Cliffmore is to be delightful," said Polly.

"And Uncle John says that there will be lots of good times, but that he knows of one happening that will be a surprise for everyone!" said Rose.

Those who would like to meet Princess Polly again at Avondale, with her dearest friend Rose Atherton, to be with them again at Cliffmore, where they are constantly with little Sprite, may enjoy all their "good-times" in—

"Princess Polly at Play."

END

*****

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