At last I became impatient of this fact, and began to climb higher.
[Illustration: Polly and Regie in the "Pulpit" and the "Pew".] "Stop!" cried Polly; "you mustn't leave your pew." "I'm going into the gallery," a happy thought enabled me to say.
Polly made no answer.

She seemed to be meditating some step; and presently I saw her scramble down to the ground in her own rapid fashion.
"Regie dear, will you promise not to get into my pulpit till I come back ?" she begged.
I gave the promise; and, without answering my questions as to what she was going to do, she sped off towards the house.

In about five minutes she returned with something held in the skirt of her frock, which seemed greatly to incommode her in climbing.

At last she reached the pulpit, but she did not stay there.

Up and on she went, much hindered by her burden.
"Polly! Polly!" I cried.