“Oh, dear,” said Polly, “I know you won’t like it, but I don’t want to do that.”

She saw Gwen’s eyes snap, and knew that she was angry.

“I’ll get my boat, and I’ll let you sail it if you’d like to, in the brook,” she said.

She did not enjoy her little guest, but she wished to be kind.

“I wouldn’t like to,” Gwen said, rudely, “sailing boats isn’t lively.  I guess as long as you don’t want to play any jolly things I’ll go home.  I meant to shingle the cat’s fur this morning, and I’ll do that.  I’m going to wet it sopping wet, part it in the middle from his head to his tail, and then shingle it all but his tail!”

CHAPTER XI

GWEN TELLS A STORY

Of course, Gwen told Inez that she had been up to Sherwood Hall and that she thought it very dull.

“I wouldn’t care to have such a big, big house,” she said, “’n I wouldn’t want such a big garden.”

It was a silly speech to make, because it was not true, and no one could believe it.

Her own house was fine, but no dwelling in the town could compare with grand, stately Sherwood Hall, and Gwen Harcourt knew that.

“Polly wouldn’t play anything, so I came home,” she said.

“Why, that’s odd,” said Inez, “she’s always willing to play games.”

“Oh, well, she wanted to play ‘Hide-and-Seek’ and that’s too stupid.  Let’s play ‘Tag’ and see how hard we can run.  You can make ever so much noise if you stamp your feet when you run on the asphalt.  Le’ me count!”

Inez did not dare to object.

   “Eena, mena, mina, moot,
     Le’me catch you by the foot;
     Fill your eyes and mouth with soot,
     Pull a tree up by the root.

    “Hit you with a speckled trout,
     Pull your hair to make it sprout;
     Though you grumble, also pout,
     One, two, three, and you are out.”

“There!” said Gwen, “now you’re it, so we’ll begin to play.”

“Why, how can I be ‘it’ when you said I was ‘out?’” questioned Inez.

“’Cause I say so, that’s all,” said Gwen, coolly, and Inez dared not say a word.  She knew if she did that Gwen would be provoked and would probably go home.

She was a little tyrant and anyone who wish to play with her must do as she said if she cared for peace.

“Run, now!” she cried.  “Run!  But you can’t catch me!”

Truly, she was fleet footed.

Up the long driveway, around the house, past old Towser’s kennel, pausing just long enough to kick it in order that he might growl, up the front steps and along the piazza, over its railing, across a bed of choice flowering plants, breaking some, and crushing many, around the summer house and through the grape arbor, shouting like a little wild Indian, she ran, and Inez could not get near enough to touch her.

“You’re slow!” cried Gwen, “slower than an old cow!  You can’t run like anything, so we might as well sit down!”