"Brooks, Amy - Princess Polly 02 - Princess Polly's Playmates" - читать интересную книгу автора (Brooks Amy)

Polly looked at the envelopes. "That one is from my cousin," she said.
"She always uses pink paper, and that one is from a little girl I used
to play with before we came to live at Sherwood Hall. I know, because
her paper is always pale green, but THIS one--" she held up the envelope
with a little cry of delight, "THIS one is from Rose!"

With Leslie and Vivian looking over her shoulder, Polly opened the
letter.

"Read it with me," she said.

"Oh, read it aloud while we listen," said Leslie.

Rose had been a dear little playmate when she had lived with her Aunt
Judith in a little cottage, near Sherwood Hall. Now that she had gone to
live with her Great-Aunt Rose, for whom she had been named, and some
miles distant, her little friends remembered her, and wished that she
were with them.

Now, as Polly read the letter, it seemed as if little Rose Atherton were
talking to them.

"Dear Princess Polly:--" the letter began, and then followed loving
assurance of her true affection for her "own Polly," very tender
inquiries for Sir Mortimer, the beautiful cat, and tales of little
happenings in the new home.

"Great-Aunt Rose is kind, and Aunt Lois is gentle and sweet, but I'm
LONSUM.

"The rooms are large, and cool and dark, and sometimes when the garden
is hot and sunny, I go to the parlor, and try to amuse myself, but oh, I
wish I had someone to play with. "When I try to pick out a tune on the
piano, the notes sound so loud, I turn around to see if Aunt Rose is
provokt, but she never folows me. There's a portrate of a funny old man
that hangs at the end of the parlor, and I always think he's watching
me. When I smile, he seems to smile, and when I'm lonsum, he doesn't
look jolly at all. There's five people in this house beside me. There's
my two aunts, and three servants, but no one makes any noise, and oh,
sometimes I WISH they would.

"Aunt Rose says sometime she'll give a party for me, but she says there
must be no romping, and that it must be dig-ni-fide. I don't believe I
spelled that right, and I'm not sure what it means, but it doesn't sound
nice. I don't believe the children that come to it, will like a party
that's digni--, I can't write that long word again.

"Aunt Lois is to have her portrate painted, and I'm to go with her to
the artist's studyo.