The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1877-07-12
Our Young Readers.
POLLY's THIMBLE.

POLLY'S THIMBLE.
HARD times for Polly Pardoe! Only
that morning her mother had said :" This
will never do. Here you are, most nine
years old and can't sew with thimble
yet. You must begin to-day" And
forthwith brown towel was carefully
basted and placed in Polly's unwilling
hands; tlimble (cast aside by sister
Jeannie, world too large for the little
finger and half filled with rags to make
up for too much room in its upper story
fitted to her "thimble finger,' and the
struggle began. And hard struggle it
bid fair to be. Polly had learned to hem
and run seams, and was about mastering
the art Of overcastipg;' but all had
been accomplished without thimble.
She had worn little hard spot on the
palm of her hand which answered very
well in place Of that article-in fact Polly
liked it much better, and declared she
never could sew with that clumsy brass
thing" And indeed it did prove de-
cided hinderance to her progress with the
hem. Every minute or two off it would
tumble, and lose the scraps Of cotton out,
and Polly would have such time getting
it right again. But at last she finished
one end Of the towel, but there was the
other; and Polly thought if she might
only throw away that ugly thimble how
quickly she could finish it and be free to
run out to the beach to play with Jean
and Tom Jerrold. Just then Toms head
appeared at an open window.
g / say, Pollyr' he shouted, "Come
down to the cove and help us sail the
Dreadnaught. We are going to Switzer-
land this trip; so come alongP
Now this was very kind In Tom, for
big boys seldom like to have little girls in
their plays; but Tom Jerrold always stood
up for Polly, and Polly thought Tom was
the incest boy in all the world. Polly
held up her towel with woe-begone face.
" Mother says must finish this before
I can do another single thing" she said;
" and if it wasn't for this old tnimble I
could do 1t in jiffy. But / must learn
to use it., SO l can't 60" And Polly
heaved doleful sigh, and took the other
end of the towel in her clumsy little
hands. OF course the thimbe fell off
again, and this time rolled close to the
doorsill, and lodged there. Toms face
disappeared from the window like flash,
and before Polly knew what he was doing
he had darted around to the door, seized
the thimble, and put it in his pocket.
"There!" he said with a triumphant
smile; in two minutes and half it will
be where you'll never see it again; and,
remember, you don't know where it is
and you can't find it. Dye see? Now
then, rush and get that hem done and
come down to the cove. The Dread
naught is ali laden with American pro-
duce, but made Jean wait till got you
to see her go. So hurry up, and we'll
wait" And off he darted, leaving Polly
to her own reflections. She was glad
Just little bit-that the thimble was
gone, but she had an uncomfortable feel
ing that Toms advice was not Just what
she ought to follow. She would be de-
ceiving ii she made her mother think the
thimble was accidentally mislaid when
she knew Tom had spirited it away, and
that with her knowledge. But she was
wild to help launch the ship, so she
stitched steadily while her thoughts were
busy with this subject. In short time
the hem was finished. Polly longed to
leave it there and steal to the cove with
out meeting her mother, for she hoped
Tom would give the thimble back to her;
but she knew this would never do; so she
folded her work neatly and carried it to
the "spring house."
"It's done, mother" she said; "and
snip. S Uan H1an go E1n hoW = Folly sa1t looked s
flushed and uncomfortable. The question
she dreaded came:
"Where's your thimble?"
"Oh," said Polly, hastily, cit dropped
off my finger and rolled to the door, and i
don't know where it is. finished the hem
without it."
"Well," said Mrs. Pardoe, "let it go
now; but when you come home you must
look for it."
Polly darted off, glad to get away, but
with an unaccountable choke in her
throat. The ship was splendid one,
built in imitation of a genuine sailing
vessel, and was a present to Jean from his
father, who was sailor and was now off
at sea in vessel of which jeans ship was
miniature. Polly's father was native
of Switzerland, and Pclly's greatest de-
light was to listen to his stories of his ma
tive country, which was to her the most
wonderful land in the world. The chill
dren were all enthusiastic on this subject,
and "playing Switzerland was their
play of plays. A little dell across the cove
they named after this favorite country
the cove itself answering to Lake Geneva,
and q line of sand hills to the westward
they called the Alps. To this port the
Dreadnaught was now bound. Tom
greeted Polly with shout and sly
chuckle as he inquired if "she had fin
ished up that hem in good style;" and
chow did she like sewing with thim-
blee" Somehow Polly did not enjoy the
sport so much as she had anticipated,
for that thimble lay heavy on her con-
science.
"Tom," said Polly. some hours after,
as they were about starting for home, "do
give me that thimble. It's mean to make
mother believe it's lost, and I'll just tell
her, so there!''
"Can't,' remarked Tom. It's beyond
the reach of mortal hand. It's gone where
the good thimbles go. Didn't tell you
you'd never see it again?"
"But," said Polly, "mother says I
must look for it when get back, and how
can | when know it isn't there? Let me
tell her about it, Tom, dear, do"
Don't you be q goose, Poll" said
Tom; "don'tcall me names, either. Sup
pose Jean had heard you, wouldn't he
laugh? If the thimble's lost, it's lost,
and I'm sure don't know where it is
Just at this moment, any more than you
do. Come on, and don't be silly" Tom
accompanied Polly and Jean to their
home, and even pressed his services on
them in their search for the missing ar
ticle.
g Beats everything where that can have
gone" he said, with side glance at
Polly. "She says it rolled to the door
and disappeared, and so it did, sure
enough. But it doesn't 'tseem possible that
it shouldn't turn up with all this search,
does it, Mrs. Pardoef" But Of course
they had to give it up.
'sPolly, are you sick % asked Mrs.
Pardoe that night at supper. "No,
ma'am,n said Polly, meekly; but she
pushed away her bowl of milk almost I'M
tasted, and hurried off to bed at an aston
ishinely early hour for wide-awake Polly.
The next morning in came Jean, holding
in his hand-what but the identical old
tl1imble that was giving Polly SO much
trouble. She sprarg up eagerly.
" Where did you find itf" she cried.
"You're pretty girl, you are" said
Jean, ito pretend you lost it, and then go
and throw it into the cove. You're moth
er's truthful GIRL arn't you? Funny
about my finding it, too. I was wading