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+Project Gutenberg's Five Little Peppers and their Friends, by Margaret Sidney
+#3 in our series by Margaret Sidney
+
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+*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!*****
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+Title: Five Little Peppers and their Friends
+
+Author: Margaret Sidney
+
+Release Date: September, 2004 [EBook #6418]
+[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]
+[This file was first posted on December 8, 2002]
+
+Edition: 10
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Tom Allen, Charles Franks
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND THEIR FRIENDS
+
+By MARGARET SIDNEY
+
+AUTHOR OF "FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS ABROAD," "A LITTLE MAID OF CONCORD TOWN,"
+"SALLY, MRS. TUBBS," ETC.
+
+
+Illustrated by Eugenie M. Wireman
+
+
+[Illustration: "What are you doing, Phronsie, sitting down in the middle
+of the stairs?"--(See page 46.)]
+
+
+
+
+  To my daughter Margaret,
+    who to her friends embodies
+    "Polly Pepper" in her
+    girlhood, I dedicate most
+    lovingly this book.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+  There were so many interesting friends of the Five Little Peppers,
+  whose lives were only the faintest of outlines in the series ending
+  when Phronsie was grown up, that a volume devoted to this outer
+  circle has been written to meet the persistent demand.
+
+  Herein the author records many happenings that long ago Ben and Polly,
+  Joel and David told her. And even Phronsie whispered some of it
+  confidentially into the listening ear. "Tell about Rachel, please,"
+  she begged; and Margaret Sidney promised to write it all down some
+  day.
+
+  And that day seems to have arrived in which it all should be recorded
+  and the promise fulfilled. For the Five Little Peppers loved their
+  friends very dearly, and were loyal and true to them. And hand in
+  hand, the circle widening ever, they lived and loved as this history
+  records.
+
+  MARGARET SIDNEY.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+I. A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA
+
+II. PHRONSIE
+
+III. CLEM FORSYTHE
+
+IV. MISS TAYLOR'S WORKING BEE
+
+V. "SHE'S MY LITTLE GIRL"
+
+VI. GRANDMA BASCOM
+
+VII. THE DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+VIII. THE GARDEN PARTY
+
+IX. THE TEN-DOLLAR BILL
+
+X. TROUBLE FOR JOEL
+
+XI. RACHEL
+
+XII. DOINGS AT THE PARSONAGE
+
+XIII. "SHE'S GOING TO STAY HERE FOREVER"
+
+XIV. "CAN'T GO," SAID JOEL
+
+XV. UP IN ALEXIA'S PRETTY ROOM
+
+XVI. THE ACCIDENT
+
+XVII. JOEL'S ADVENTURE
+
+XVIII. THE COMFORT COMMITTEE
+
+XIX. JOEL'S NEW FRIEND
+
+XX. THE COOKING CLUB
+
+XXI. OF MANY THINGS IN GENERAL
+
+XXII. RACHEL'S VISIT TO MISS PARROTT
+
+XXIII. THE OLD PARROTT HOMESTEAD
+
+XXIV. RACHEL'S FUTURE
+
+XXV. JACK PARISH
+
+XXVI. MR. HAMILTON DYCE A TRUE FRIEND
+
+XXVII. A PIECE OF GOOD NEWS
+
+XXVIII. THE LITTLE STONE CUPBOARD
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+"WHAT ARE YOU DOING, PHRONSIE, SITTING DOWN IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STAIRS?"
+
+FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA
+
+"BUT THIS IS TEN DOLLARS," SAID JOEL
+
+"ON, LARRY," SAID MISS TAYLOR GENTLY, BENDING OVER HIM
+
+"YES, SIR," CALLED JOEL BACK, FROM THE ALCOVE
+
+THE UNLUCKY OAR WAS SEIZED BY THE TRIUMPHANT CREW
+
+"I USED TO PLAY WITH IT," SHE SAID SOFTLY
+
+HE STOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE LITTLE SHOP
+
+
+
+
+I
+
+A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA
+
+
+"I wish," said Phronsie slowly, "that you'd come in, little girl."
+
+"Can't." The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing
+her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best
+chance.
+
+"Please do," begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; "I very much wish you
+would."
+
+"Can't," repeated the girl on the outside. "Cop won't let me."
+
+"Who?" asked Phronsie, much puzzled and beginning to look frightened.
+
+"Perlice." The girl nodded briefly, taking her face away from the iron
+railings enough to accomplish that ceremony. Then she plastered her nose up
+against its support again, and stared at Phronsie with all her might.
+
+"Oh," said Phronsie, with a little laugh that chased away her fright,"
+there isn't any big policeman here. This is Grandpapa's garden."
+
+"'Tain't, it's the perliceman's; everything's the perliceman's,"
+contradicted the girl, snapping one set of grimy fingers defiantly.
+
+"Oh, no," said Phronsie, softly but very decidedly, "this is my dear
+Grandpapa's home, and the big policeman can't get in here, ever."
+
+"Oh, you ninny!" The girl staring at her through the railings stopped a
+minute to laugh, covering both hands over her mouth to smother the sound.
+"The perlice can go everywheres they want to. I guess some of 'em's in
+heaven now, spyin' round."
+
+Phronsie dropped the doll she was carrying close to her bosom, to
+concentrate all her gaze up toward the sky, in wide-eyed amazement that
+allowed her no opportunity to carry on the conversation.
+
+"An' I couldn't no more get into this 'ere garden than I could into
+heaven," the girl on the outside said at last, to bring back the blue eyes
+to earth, "so don't you think it, you. But, oh, my, don't I wish I could,
+though!"
+
+There was so much longing in the voice that Phronsie brought her gaze down
+from the policemen in their heavenly work to the eyes staring at her. And
+she clasped her hands together tightly, and hurried up to lay her face
+against the big iron gate and close to that of the girl.
+
+"He won't hurt you, the big policeman won't," she whispered softly. "I'll
+take hold of your hand, and tell him how it is, if he gets in. Come."
+
+"Can't," the girl was going to say, but her gaze rested upon the doll lying
+on the grass where it fell from Phronsie's hand. "Lawks! may I just have
+one good squint at that?" she burst out.
+
+"You may hold it," said Phronsie, bobbing her head till her yellow hair
+fell over her flushed cheeks.
+
+The gate flew open suddenly, nearly overthrowing her; and the girl, mostly
+all legs and arms, dashed through, picking up the doll to squeeze it to her
+neck so tightly that Phronsie rushed up, quite alarmed.
+
+"Oh, don't," she cried, "you'll frighten her. I'll tell her how it is, and
+then she'll like you."
+
+"I'll make her like me," said the girl, with savage thrusts at the doll,
+and kissing it all over.
+
+"Oh, my, ain't you sweet!" and she cuddled it fiercely in her scrawny neck,
+her tangled black hair falling around its face.
+
+"Oh, dear!" wailed Phronsie, standing quite still, "she's my child, and
+she's dreadfully frightened. Oh, please, little girl, don't do so."
+
+"She's been your child forever, and I've never had a child." The girl
+raised her black head to look sternly at Phronsie. "I'll give her back; but
+she's mine now."
+
+"Haven't you ever had a child?" asked Phronsie, suddenly, two or three
+tears trailing off her round cheeks to drop in the grass, and she drew a
+long breath and winked very fast to keep the others back.
+
+"Not a smitch of one," declared the other girl decidedly, "an' I'm a-goin'
+to hold this one, and pretend I'm its mother."
+
+Phronsie drew a long breath, and drew slowly near.
+
+"You may," she said at last.
+
+The new mother didn't hear, being hungrily engaged in smoothing her child's
+cheeks against her own dirty ones, first one side of the face and then the
+other, and twitching down the dainty pink gown, gone awry during the
+hugging process, and alternately scolding and patting the little figure.
+This done, she administered a smart slap, plunged over to the nearest tree,
+and set the doll with a thud on the grass to rest against its trunk.
+
+"Sit up like a lady," she commanded.
+
+"Oh, don't!" cried Phronsie, quite horror-stricken, and running over on
+distressed feet. "She's my child," she gasped.
+
+"No, she's mine, an' I'm teachin' her manners. I ain't through pretendin'
+yet," said the girl. She put out a long arm and held Phronsie back.
+
+"But you struck her." Phronsie lifted a pale face, and her blue eyes
+flashed very much as Polly's brown ones did on occasion.
+
+The new mother whirled around and stared at her.
+
+"Why, I had to, just the same as you're licked when you're bad," she said,
+in astonishment.
+
+"What's 'licked'?" asked Phronsie, overcome with curiosity, yet keeping her
+eyes on her child, bolt upright against the tree.
+
+"Why, whipped," said the girl, "just the same as you are when you're bad."
+
+Phronsie drew a long breath.
+
+"I've never been whipped," she said slowly.
+
+"Oh, my Lord!" The girl tumbled down to the grass and rolled over and over,
+coming up suddenly to sit straight, wipe her tangled black hair out of her
+eyes, and stare at Phronsie. "Well, you are a reg'lar freak, you are," was
+all she could say.
+
+"What's a 'freak'?" asked Phronsie, actually turning her back on her child
+to give all her attention to this absorbing conversation, with its most
+attractive vocabulary.
+
+"It's--oh, Jumbo!" and over she flopped again, to roll and laugh. "Well,
+there!" and she jumped to her feet so quickly she nearly overthrew
+Phronsie, who had drawn closer, unable to miss a bit of this very strange
+proceeding. "Now I'm through pretending an' I haven't got any child, an'
+you may have her back." She wrung her grimy hands together, and turned her
+back on the object of so much attention. "Take her, quick; she's yours."
+
+Phronsie hurried over to the doll, sitting up in pink loveliness against
+the tree, knelt down on the grass, and patted her with gentle hand, and
+smoothed down her curls. A curious sound broke in upon her work, and she
+looked up and listened. "I must go back," she whispered to her child, and
+in a minute she was running around the figure of the girl, to stare into
+her face.
+
+"Ow--get out!" cried the girl crossly, and she whirled off, pulling up her
+ragged dress to her face.
+
+"I thought I heard you cry," said Phronsie in a troubled voice, and
+following her in distress.
+
+"Phoo!" cried the girl, snapping her fingers in derision, and spinning
+around on the tips of her toes, "'twas the cat."
+
+"No," said Phronsie decidedly, and shaking her head, "it couldn't be the
+cat, because she doesn't hardly ever cry, and besides she isn't here"--and
+she looked all around--"don't you see she isn't?"
+
+"Well, then, 'twas that bird," said the girl, pointing up to a high branch.
+"Ain't you green, not to think of him!"
+
+"I don't _think_ it was the bird," said Phronsie slowly, and peering
+up anxiously, "and he doesn't cry again, so I 'most know he couldn't have
+cried then."
+
+"Well, he will, if you wait long enough," said the girl defiantly.
+
+"Chee, chee, chee," sang the bird, with delicious little trills, and
+shaking them out so fast his small throat seemed about to burst with its
+efforts.
+
+"There, you see he couldn't cry," began Phronsie, in a burst of delight;"
+you see, little girl," and she hopped up and down in glee.
+
+"He's got the 'sterics, an' he'll cry next, like enough," said the girl.
+
+"What's 'the 'sterics'?" asked Phronsie, coming out of her glee, and
+drawing nearer. "Oh, I see some tears," and she looked soberly up into the
+thin, dirty face, and forgot all about her question.
+
+"No, you don't, either." The girl twitched away angrily. "There ain't never
+no tears you could see on me; 'twas the cat or the bird. Ain't you green,
+though! You're green as that grass there," and she spun round and round,
+snapping her fingers all the while.
+
+Phronsie stood quite still and regarded her sorrowfully.
+
+"Don't you believe I cried!" screamed the girl, dashing up to her, to snap
+her fingers in Phronsie's face; "say you don't this minute."
+
+"But I think you did," said Phronsie. "Oh. I'm very sure you did, and you
+may hold my child again, if you only won't cry any more," and she clasped
+her hands tightly together. The other girl started and ran toward the big
+iron gate.
+
+"Oh, don't!" Phronsie called after her, and ran to overtake the flying
+feet. "Please stay with me. I like you; don't go."
+
+The girl threw her head back as if something hurt her throat, then leaned
+her face against the iron railings and stuck her fingers in her ears.
+
+"Don't! lemme alone! go 'way, can't you!" She wriggled off from Phronsie's
+fingers. "I'll lick you if you don't lemme be!"
+
+"I wish you'd play with me," said Phronsie, having hard work to keep out of
+the way of the flapping shoes all down at the heel, "and you may have
+Clorinda for your very own child as long as you stay--you may really."
+
+"Ow! see here!" Up came the girl's face, and with a defiant sweep of her
+grimy hands she brushed both cheeks. "Do you mean that, honest true, black
+and blue?"
+
+"Yes," said Phronsie, very much relieved to see the effect of her
+invitation, "I do mean it, little girl. Come, and I'll tell Clorinda all
+how it is."
+
+"I'm goin' outside to walk up and down a bit. Bring on your doll."
+
+"But you must come here," said Phronsie, moving off slowly backward over
+the grass. "Come, little girl"--holding out her hand.
+
+"Now I know you didn't mean it," said the girl scornfully. "You wouldn't
+let me touch that nasty old doll of yours again for nothin' you wouldn't,"
+she shrilled at her.
+
+"Oh, yes, I would," declared Phronsie, in great distress; "see, I'm going
+to get her now," and she turned around and hurried over the grass to pick
+Clorinda off from her resting-place and run back. "There, see, little
+girl," she cried breathlessly, thrusting the doll into the dirty hands;
+"take her now and we'll go and play."
+
+For answer, the girl clutched the doll and sped wildly off through the
+gateway.
+
+"Oh!" cried Phronsie, running after with pink cheeks and outstretched arms,
+"give me back my child; stop, little girl."
+
+But there wras no stop to the long, thin figure flying down the path on the
+other side of the tall hedge. It was a back passage, and few pedestrians
+used the path; in fact, there were none on it this afternoon, so the
+children had it all to themselves. And on they went, Phronsie, with but one
+thought--to rescue her child from the depths of woe such as being carried
+off by a strange mother would produce--blindly plunging after.
+
+At last the girl with the doll stopped suddenly, flung herself up against a
+stone fence, and drew a long breath.
+
+"Well, what you goin' to do about it?" she cried defiantly, clutching the
+doll with a savage grip.
+
+Phronsie, too far gone for words, sank panting down to the curbstone, to
+watch her with wild eyes.
+
+"You said I might take her," the girl blurted out. "I hain't took nothin'
+but what you give me. I want to play with her to my home. You come with me,
+and then you can take her back with you."
+
+"I can't," said Phronsie, in a faint little voice. Her cheeks were very
+red, and she wiped her hot face on her white apron. "You must give me
+Clorinda, and I must go home," and she held out a shaking hand.
+
+But the girl danced off, and Phronsie, without a thought beyond the rescue
+of her child, stumbled on after her, scarcely seeing one step before her
+for the tears that, despite all her efforts, now began to stream down her
+round cheeks.
+
+At last, in trying to turn out for a baker's boy with a big basket, she
+caught her foot and fell, a tired little heap, flat in a mud puddle in the
+middle of the brick pavement.
+
+"My eye!" cried the baker's boy, lifting her up. "Here, you girl, your
+sister's fell, ker-squash!"
+
+At this, the flying girl in front whirled suddenly and came running back,
+and took in the situation at once.
+
+"Come on, you lazy thing, you!" she exclaimed; then she burst into a laugh.
+"Oh, how you look!"
+
+"Give me back--" panted Phronsie, rubbing away the tears with her muddy
+hands, regardless of her splashed clothes and dirty shoes.
+
+"Keep still, can't you?" cried the girl, gripping her arm, as two or three
+pedestrians paused to stare at the two. "Come on, sister," and she seized
+Phronsie's hand, and bore her off. But on turning the corner, she stopped
+abruptly, and, still holding the doll closely, she dropped to one knee and
+wiped off the tears from the muddy little cheeks with a not ungentle hand.
+"You've got to be my sister," she said, in a gush, "else the hoodlums will
+tear you from neck to heels." And seizing Phronsie's hand again, she bore
+her off, dodging between rows of dwellings, that, if her companion could
+have seen, would have certainly proved to be quite novel. But Phronsie was
+by this time quite beyond noticing any of the details of her journey, and
+after turning a corner or two, she was hauled up several flights of rickety
+steps, strange to say without the usual accompaniment of staring eyes and
+comments of the various neighbors in the locality.
+
+"There!" The girl, still clutching the doll, flung wide the rickety door.
+"My, ain't I glad to get here, though!" and she drew a long breath,
+releasing Phronsie's hand, who immediately slid to the floor in a collapsed
+little heap. "Well, this is my home--ain't it pretty, though!"
+
+Phronsie, thus called on for a reply, tried very hard to answer, but the
+words wouldn't come.
+
+"You needn't try," said the girl, slamming the door, "'tain't likely you
+can praise it enough," and she broke out into a hard, sarcastic laugh,
+which shrilled its way out of the one window, whose broken glass was
+adorned with nondescript fillings.
+
+"See here now, you're all beat out," she exclaimed suddenly; then rushing
+across the room, she dragged up a broken chair, and jammed it against the
+door. "There now, we're by ourselves, an' you can rest."
+
+"I must go home," said Phronsie faintly, and holding up her tired arms.
+"Give me my child; I must go home."
+
+"Did you think I didn't know what was proper?" cried the girl scornfully,
+and tossing her head. "I'm going to have five-o'clock tea 'fore you go.
+There, I'm a lady, an' a swell one too, I'd have you know."
+
+She ran over to the corner of the slatternly room, and set the doll on a
+bed, over which were tossed the clothes in a dirty heap, Phronsie following
+every movement with anxious eyes.
+
+"Now she's my child, remember," she said, turning her sharp, black eyes on
+the small figure huddled up on the floor, "as long as she stays here."
+
+Then she hurried about, twitching a box out here and there from a cupboard,
+whose broken door hung by one hinge.
+
+"Here's my silver spoons--ain't they beautiful!" she cried, running up with
+a few two-tined forks and a bent and battered knife. These she placed, also
+the cracked cups, with great gusto, on the rickety table, propped for
+support against the wall, as one of its legs was gone entirely and another
+on the fair road to departure.
+
+"'Tain't stylish to have yer table agin the wall," she broke out, "at a
+five-o'clock tea; I know, 'cause I've peeked in the windows up on the
+avenoo, an' I've seen your folks, too." She nodded over at Phronsie. "I
+know what I'll do." She tossed her head with its black, elfish locks, and
+darted off in triumph, dragging up from another corner a big box, first
+unceremoniously dumping out the various articles, such as dirty clothes, a
+tin pan or two, a skillet, an empty bottle--last of all, a nightcap, which
+she held aloft. "Gran's," she shouted; "it's been lost a mighty long time.
+Now I'm goin' to wear it to my five-o'clock tea. It's a picter hat, same's
+that lady had on to your house once--I seen her." She threw the old
+nightcap over her hair, tied the ragged strings with an air, and soon, by
+dint of pulling and hauling, had the table in the very center of the
+apartment, the box securely under its most delicate and unreliable portion.
+
+"There--my! ain't we fine, though!" She surveyed her work with great
+delight, her hands on her hips. "Now, says I, for our ice cream an' cake,
+with white on top, an' choc'late."
+
+She gave a flirt of her ragged gown and darted here and there with her
+elfish movements; and presently a cold potato, shivering in its skin, a
+slice or two of hard, moldy bread, and some turnips and carrots, uncooked,
+were set about the dirty table, with empty spools in between. "Them's the
+flowers," she explained, as she put the last-mentioned articles in their
+places. "Now it's all ready, except the choc'late." And waving an old tin
+coffeepot, whose nose was a thing of the past, she filled it at the faucet
+over the wooden sink, and put it down with a flourish at one end of the
+table. "Now we're ready, an' I'm the beautiful lady up to your house--I
+seen her, once when I was peekin' through the fence"--she nodded shrewdly,
+her little eyes snapping--"her an' your sister."
+
+[Illustration: Five O'Clock Tea]
+
+"Oh, I want Polly," broke out Phronsie, with such a wail, as she sat, a
+frozen little heap, not daring to stir, that the girl screamed out:
+
+"Well, I'm goin' to take you to her, when I've given you my five-o'clock
+tea; that is, if you don't cry. An' I ain't goin' to be the beautiful lady
+up at your house; I'll be Mrs. somebody else. No, I'll be a Dukess--the
+Dukess of Marlbrer--I've seen her in the paper. Oh, you've got to have the
+best chair," and she dragged up the sole article of furniture of that name,
+minus its back, away from the door; then helping Phronsie up from the
+floor, she wiped off the tears on her pinafore, no longer white, and soon
+had her installed on it. "Now you're comp'ny." Thereupon she ran and
+fetched the doll from the bed, and put her on a small, old barrel, from
+which the articles were dumped out, and, with a box for her back, Clorinda
+was soon in great state on one side of the feast. The Dukess then slipped
+into her own seat, an inverted tub, somewhat low, to be sure, but still
+allowing the view of the festive cup to be seen. "She's my child, now. Will
+you have some choc'late?"--with a winning smile that ran all over her dirty
+face and wrinkled it up alarmingly.
+
+"Oh, no, she's my child," protested Phronsie, the tears beginning again.
+
+"I mean till I get through my five-o'clock tea," cried the girl; "can't you
+understand? Then she'll be yours, an' I'll take you home. Will you have
+choc'late?--you must, Lady--what's your name, anyway?" she demanded
+abruptly, bringing her black eyes to bear on Phronsie.
+
+Phronsie could hardly stammer it out for the tears she was choking back.
+
+"Oh, my eye, what a name!" laughed the Dukess, in derision. "Well, you can
+be Lady Funsie--Fornsie--whatever you call it. Now, will you have some
+choc'late? 'Taint perlite not to answer."
+
+"I'd rather have some milk," said Phronsie faintly, "if you please."
+
+"Oh, 'tain't no trouble," said the Dukess airily, quirking out her little
+finger with grace; and poising the tin coffeepot with an elegant air, she
+inverted it over a cracked cup, which, when generously full of water, she
+passed to her guest. "Help yourself to th' cakes. Lady Fonsie," she said
+graciously, "an' what beyewtiful weather we are havin'!"
+
+Phronsie put forth a trembling hand, as it seemed to be expected of her,
+and took the cup of water, spilling about half of it, which ran off the
+table-edge and down her little brown gown, the Dukess greeting this mishap
+with a shout of laughter, checking it suddenly with a start and a dismayed
+glance in the direction of the broken window.
+
+"It's time fer you to talk some," she said. "You should say, 'Yes, I think
+so, too.'"
+
+"I think so, too," murmured Phronsie, viewing her cup of milk gravely.
+
+"An' you must say, 'I think, Dukess, you have the most splendid milk.'"
+
+"It isn't milk," said Phronsie gravely, and she turned serious eyes on the
+lady of quality opposite.
+
+"Oh, yes, it is," said the Dukess, "an' you orter go on an' say, 'An' all
+them perfectly beyewtiful flowers, I never see any so fine!'"--pointing to
+the empty spools in between the eatables.
+
+"But they aren't flowers," said Phronsie.
+
+This occasioned so much discussion that there was no lack of conversation,
+and was the reason that steps over the stairway were not heard. The door
+was thrown open, and an old, stout, sodden woman, in a dirty, green shawl
+and battered bonnet stood transfixed with amazement in the entrance. She
+hadn't a pleasant eye beneath her straggling, white hair, and her first
+words were not altogether agreeable nor appropriate at five-o'clock tea.
+
+"So this is the way," she said gruffly, "when I sends you out, Rag, to pick
+up somethin' you eat me out o' house an' home with brats you bring in"; for
+she hadn't seen through the dirt on Phronsie's face and clothes what manner
+of child was present.
+
+The Dukess twitched off the nightcap, and sprang up, upsetting the tin
+coffeepot, which rolled away by itself, and put herself over by Phronsie,
+covering her from view. In passing, she had grasped the doll off from the
+barrel and hidden her in the folds of her tattered gown with a quick, sharp
+thrust.
+
+"'Tain't nothin' 'f I do have some fun once in a while, Gran," she
+grumbled. She pinched Phronsie's arm. "Keep still." And while the old woman
+swayed across the room, for she wasn't quite free from the effects of a
+taste from a bottle under her arm, which she couldn't resist trying before
+she reached home, Phronsie and Rag were working their way over toward the
+door.
+
+"Stop!" roared the old woman at them, in a fury, and she held up the
+nightcap. Involuntarily Rag paused, through sheer force of habit, and stood
+paralyzed, till her grandmother had come quite close.
+
+"Hey, what have we got here?" She eyed Phronsie sharply. "Oh, well, you
+ain't acted so badly after all; maybe the pretty little lady has come to
+see me, hey?" and she seized Phronsie's small arm.
+
+"Gran," cried Rag hoarsely, waking up from her unlucky paralysis, "let her
+go; only let her go, an' I'll--I'll do anythin' you want me to. I'll steal,
+an' pick an' fetch, and do anything Gran."
+
+The old woman leered at her, and passed her hand to the beads on Phronsie's
+neck; and in doing so she let the little arm slip, that she might use both
+hands to undo the clasp the better. One second of time--but Rag, knowing
+quite well what could be done in it, seized Phronsie, rushed outside,
+slammed the door, and was down over the rickety stairs in a twinkling,
+through the dirty courtyard and alley--which luckily had few spectators,
+and those thought she was carrying a neighbor's child--around a corner,
+darting here and there, till presently she set Phronsie down, and drew a
+long breath,
+
+"Oh, my eye!" she panted, "but wasn't that a close shave, though!"
+
+
+
+
+II
+
+PHRONSIE
+
+
+"There now, here you are!" There was a little click in the girl's throat.
+Phronsie looked up.
+
+"Yes, and your child, too." Clorinda and all her pink loveliness was thrust
+into her own little mother's arms, and the sharp, black eyes peered down
+upon the two. "I've brung you home, and you're on your own grassplot,
+same's you were." Still she stood in her tracks.
+
+"I'm sorry I brung you to my house; but you've had a five-o'clock tea, and
+now you're home, an' got your child." Still she did not stir.
+
+"Well, I've got to go. Say, don't you call no one, nor tell no one, till
+I've had time to shake my feet down street." She thrust out one flapping
+shoe, then the other, gave a scornful laugh, and brushed her hand across
+the sharp eyes. "Promise now, black and blue, 'I promise true, hope to die
+if I do'. Hurry up! Do you promise?" she cried sharply.
+
+"Yes," said Phronsie, hugging Clorinda tightly.
+
+"All right. Now for Gran!" She shut her teeth tightly and was off and
+through the big gateway.
+
+"I've got my child," said Phronsie, putting up a sleepy hand to pat
+Clorinda's head, but it fell to her side, while her yellow hair slipped
+closer over her flushed cheek. She tried to say, "Clorinda, we've got home,
+and my foots are tired," swayed, held her child tighter to her bosom, and
+over she went in a heap, fast asleep before her head touched the soft
+grass.
+
+Polly Pepper, hurrying home from Alexia's, ran in by the gateway, and down
+by a short cut over the grass, her feet keeping time to a merry air that
+had possessed her all the afternoon. "How fine," she cried to herself, "our
+garden party will be!--and we've gotten on splendidly with our fancy things
+this afternoon. It will be too perfectly elegant for--" the flying feet
+came to a standstill that nearly threw her over the sleeping figure, the
+doll tightly pressed to the dirty little pinafore and the flushed cheeks.
+
+"Oh, my goodness me!" cried Polly, down on her knees. "Why, Phronsie, just
+look at your pinafore!" But Phronsie had no idea of looking at anything,
+and still slept on.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, in consternation, "whatever in the world has
+she been doing! Well, I must get her up to the house."
+
+"Hullo!" It was Jasper's voice. Polly flew up to her feet and hulloed back.
+He took a short cut, with a good many flying leaps, across the grass. "Oh,
+Polly, I've been looking for you!"
+
+"Just see there." cried Polly, pointing tragically to the little heap.
+
+"Well, dear me!" said Jasper. "Why, Polly"--as his eyes fell on the soiled
+pinafore and the little face where the tears had made muddy streaks.
+
+"I know it," said Polly. "Did you ever in all this world, Jasper! What do
+you suppose she has been doing?"
+
+"Oh, making mud pies, perhaps," said Jasper, unwilling to worry Polly;
+"don't look so, Polly. Here, we'll carry her to the house."
+
+"Lady-chair," said Polly, the worry dropping out of her eyes at the fun of
+carrying Phronsie in. But Phronsie was beyond the charms of "lady-chair" or
+"pick-a-back," her yellow head bobbing so dismally when they lifted her up,
+that Jasper at last picked her up in his arms, and marched off with her.
+
+"You bring the doll, Polly."
+
+So Polly ran along by his side with Clorinda dangling by one arm.
+
+Mother Fisher said never a word when she received her baby, but wisely
+soothed and washed and tucked her away in bed; and little Doctor Fisher, as
+soon as he got home, viewed her critically through his big spectacles, and
+said, "The child is all right. Let her sleep." Which she did, until every
+one of the household, creeping in and out, declared she could not possibly
+sleep any longer, and that they must wake her up. This last was from Polly.
+
+"What do you suppose it is, Mamsie?" she asked, for about the fiftieth
+time, hanging over Phronsie's little bed.
+
+"Nothing," said Mrs. Fisher, with firm lips. Polly must not be worried by
+unnecessary alarm, and really there seemed to be nothing amiss with
+Phronsie, who was sleeping peacefully, with calm little face and even
+breath. "It's the best thing for her to sleep till she's rested."
+
+"But what could have tired her so?" said Polly, with a puzzled face.
+
+"That's just what we can't find out now," said her mother, diving into her
+basket for another of Van's stockings. "Oh, here is the mate. When she
+wakes up, she'll tell us."
+
+"Well, Joanna is going, isn't she, Mamsie?" asked Polly, deserting the
+little bed to fling herself down on the floor at Mrs. Fisher's feet, to
+watch the busy fingers.
+
+"Yes, she is," said Mother Fisher decidedly.
+
+"I'm so very glad of that," said Polly, with a sigh of relief, "because you
+know, Mamsie, she might go off again and leave Phronsie when she ought to
+be watching her."
+
+"Say no more about it, Polly," said her mother, setting even, firm
+stitches, "for Mr. King is very angry with Joanna; and you needn't be
+afraid that Phronsie will ever be left again, until we do get just the
+right person to be with her. Now you better go out and forget it all, and
+busy yourself about something."
+
+"I've got to practice," said Polly with a yawn, and stretching her arms. "I
+haven't done a bit this whole afternoon, and Monsieur comes tomorrow."
+
+"Best fly at it, then," said Mrs. Fisher, smiling at her. So Polly, with a
+parting glance at the figure on the little bed, went downstairs and into
+the big drawing-room, wishing that Phronsie was there, as usual, where she
+dearly loved to stay, tucked up in a big damask-covered chair, one of her
+dolls in her arms, waiting patiently till the practice hour should be over.
+
+But when Phronsie at last turned over, and said without a bit of warning,
+"I want something to eat, I do." with an extremely injured expression,
+Mother Fisher was so thankful that she had no time to question her, if,
+indeed, she had considered it wise to do so. And Sarah was called, and
+laughed with delight at the summons, and ran off to get the tray ready,
+Phronsie watching her with hungry eyes in which the dew of sleep still
+lingered. But old Mr. King was not so patient.
+
+When he saw, as he soon did, his visits to the side of the little bed being
+as frequent as Polly's own, that Phronsie was really awake and sitting up,
+he could keep still no longer, but putting his arms around her, fumed out:
+
+"Oh, that careless Joanna! Poor lamb! There, there! Grandpapa will take
+care of his little girl himself, after this."
+
+"I'm hungry," announced Phronsie, looking up into his face. "Indeed I am,
+Grandpapa dear, very hungry."
+
+"Oh, to think of it! Yes, Pet"--soothing her. "Where is that Sarah? Can't
+some one get this poor child a bit to eat?" he cried irascibly.
+
+"Sarah will hurry just as fast as she can," said Mrs. Fisher, coming up
+with a dainty white gown over her arm. "Phronsie must be a good girl and
+wait patiently."
+
+Phronsie wriggled her toes under the bedclothes.
+
+"I wish you'd take me, Grandpapa dear," she said, holding up her arms.
+
+"So I will--so I will, Pet!" cried old Mr. King, very much delighted; and
+lifting her up to rest her head on his shoulder, he walked up and down the
+room. "There, there, dear! Oh, why doesn't that Sarah hurry!"--when in
+walked that individual with a big tray, and on it everything that a hungry
+child could be supposed to desire. But Phronsie had no eyes for anything
+but the glass of milk.
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa," she piped out at sight of it, "Sarah's got me some milk,"
+and she gave a happy little crow.
+
+"So she has," he laughed as gayly, "Well, now, we'll sit right down here
+and have some of these good things," and, Mrs. Fisher drawing up a big easy
+chair in front of the table where Sarah deposited the tray, he sat down,
+with Phronsie on his knee. "Now, child----"
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa, may I have the milk?" she begged, holding out a trembling
+hand.
+
+"Bless you, yes, child." He put the glass into her hand. "Take care,
+Phronsie, don't drink so fast."
+
+"Honey will choke herself," cried Sarah, in alarm, holding up warning black
+fingers. "Oh, my! she's done drunk it mos' all up a'ready."
+
+"There, there, Phronsie!" Grandpapa took hold of the glass.
+
+"Phronsie," said Mother Fisher, and it was her hand that took the glass
+away from the eager lips. "You must eat a roll now, or a little bit of
+toast."
+
+"But I want some more milk," said Phronsie, and her lips quivered.
+
+"Not yet, Phronsie." Mother Fisher was cutting up the toast, and now held
+up a morsel on the spoon. "See how very nice it is."
+
+"We'll play it is five-o'clock tea," said old Mr. King, at his wit's end to
+bring the smiles into her face. Phronsie turned and gave him one look, then
+buried her face in his waistcoat and cried as hard as she could.
+
+"There, there!" The old gentleman got up to his feet and began to pace the
+floor again, his white hair bent over her face, his hand patting her back
+gently. "Don't cry, poor little lamb." And as a sudden thought struck him,
+"Just look at your mother, Phronsie; you are making her sick."
+
+Up popped Phronsie's yellow head, the tears trailing off from the round
+cheeks till they fell on the floor. There stood Mother Fisher, quite still.
+
+"I'm sorry, Mamsie," said Phronsie, and she put out a little hand, "I'll
+eat the toast." So down old Mr. King sat again, with her on his lap, and
+Mother Fisher cut up more toast, and Phronsie opened her mouth obediently,
+and after the first mouthful she smiled: "I like it, I do." And Mother
+Fisher smiled too, and said, "I knew you would, Phronsie." And Grandpapa
+laughed, he was so happy, and Sarah kept crying, "Bress de Lawd! yer maw
+knew best." And pretty soon Mrs. Fisher nodded to old Mr. King, and he
+said, "Now for the rest of the milk, Phronsie," and the glass was put into
+her happy hand.
+
+And then more toast, and more laughing, for Grandpapa by that time told a
+funny story, and everything got so very merry that the gayety brought all
+the rest of the houseful of children up to see if Phronsie were really
+awake.
+
+"Why didn't you tell us before?" cried Joel, in a dudgeon, revolving around
+the table. "She's been eating ever so long, and we thought she was asleep."
+
+"That's the reason she's had a little peace," retorted the old gentleman.
+
+"Catch them telling you, Joe!" said Percy Whitney, glad to pitch in with a
+word.
+
+"Well, you didn't know it, either," said Joel, in great satisfaction. "Say,
+Phronsie, where were you all this morning?"
+
+"Ugh!" cried Van, with a warning dig in his ribs.
+
+"Let me alone," cried Joel, squaring around on him savagely.
+
+"Look at Phronsie's face," said Percy, with a superior manner, as if no one
+needed to tell him when to speak.
+
+Polly was on her knees cuddling up Phronsie's toes, and begging to feed
+her, when she felt her give a shiver, and try to hide her face on her neck.
+
+"Don't, Joey," begged Polly. But Joel, not hearing her, and hating to be
+dictated to by Percy, cried out persistently:
+
+"Say, Phron, what were you doing all the morning?"
+
+Phronsie at this gave a loud sob. "Take me, Polly," was all she said. So
+Polly sat down on the floor, and Phronsie snuggled up closer into her neck,
+and was rocked back and forth to her heart's content, while Joel, perfectly
+aghast at the mischief he had done, was taken in tow by Mother Fisher, to
+sob out, his head in her lap, that he "didn't mean to, he didn't mean to."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed old Mr. King, in dismay, "this is a pretty state
+of things! Polly, my child"--he leaned over her--"can't you think up
+something to get us out of it?"
+
+"I'm going to talk about the garden party," cried Polly, an inspiration
+seizing her. "Oh, Phronsie, now you must sit up; you can't think what plans
+we have for it." But Phronsie burrowed deeper in her nest.
+
+"If you don't sit up, Phronsie," said Polly quite decidedly, "I shall have
+to put you off from my lap, and go out of the room."
+
+"Oh, no, no, Polly!" cried Phronsie, clutching her around the neck.
+
+"Yes, I shall, Phronsie," declared Polly, in her most decided fashion, "so
+you must sit right up, and hear all about it. Now, Jasper, you begin."
+
+So Phronsie sat up and let Polly wipe her face; and then she folded her
+hands in her lap, while Jasper began:
+
+"You see that we thought that we'd take the Wistaria arbor, Father, if
+you'd let us, for our post office. May we?"
+
+"Yes, yes, certainly," said the old gentleman, who would have been quite
+willing to promise anything just then.
+
+"Oh, that's no end jolly!" cried Jasper, throwing back his dark hair from
+his forehead with a quick thrust. "Now we can do splendidly. Polly, only
+think!" His eyes shone, and Polly screamed out, "Oh, Grandpapa, how
+lovely!" and the others joined in, not quite knowing what they were so
+happy about, until Joel popped up his head from his mother's lap to hear
+what all the noise was about over there.
+
+"I'm going to be postmaster," he announced, wiping the tears off with the
+back of his hand, and plunging across the room.
+
+"No, sir-ee!" declared Ben, seizing his jacket-end, "don't think it, Joe.
+Jasper is going to fill that important office."
+
+"Yes, Jasper is," shouted Percy and Van together, delighted at anything
+that could keep Joel out. Davie stood perfectly still in the midst of the
+uproar.
+
+"Why couldn't Joey be a letter carrier, to help give out the letters?" he
+said at last, in the midst of the noise. "Couldn't he, Ben?" and he ran to
+twitch that individual's sleeve.
+
+"Hey--what?"
+
+"Couldn't he be the one to give out some of the letters, and help Jasper?"
+asked David anxiously.
+
+"I don't know--yes, maybe"--as he saw David's face fall. "You best ask
+Jasper, he's to be the postmaster."
+
+So David ran over and precipitated himself into the middle of the group,
+with his question; when immediately the rest began to clamor to help Jasper
+give out the letters, so the babel was worse than at first.
+
+Phronsie by this time was begging with the others, while she sat straight
+in Polly's lap, with very red cheeks and wide eyes. Now she slipped out,
+and rushed up to Jasper.
+
+"And I, too, Japser; I want to give out letters, too," she cried,
+dreadfully excited.
+
+"So you shall, Pet," he cried, seizing her to toss her up in the air, the
+others all circling around them, Phronsie's happy little crows going up
+high above the general din.
+
+"Well, I think if we are going to have such a fine post office, we'll have
+to work pretty hard to write the letters," said Polly, after they had
+sobered down a bit.
+
+"Ugh!" cried Joel with a grimace, "I'm not going to write a single scrap of
+one."
+
+"Indeed you are," retorted Polly; "everybody has absolutely got to write
+some letters. Why, we must have a bushel of them."
+
+"Oh, Polly Pepper!" cried the others, "a bushel of letters!"
+
+"And no one can have a letter who doesn't write some," announced Polly
+firmly--"the very idea! So we must all work like everything to get ready
+for the post office."
+
+
+
+
+III
+
+CLEM FORSYTHE
+
+
+Phronsie sat on the stairs, halfway down the long flight. It was the same
+staircase on which Jasper had found her, with Polly waiting patiently on
+the lower step, when she first came to Grandpapa King's. Now she held
+Clorinda in her arms, tightly pressed to her bosom.
+
+"I do wish," she said softly, "that I could see my poor little girl, I do."
+
+Clorinda not replying, Phronsie smoothed down the pink gown.
+
+"It wasn't very nice at that little girl's house"--and a troubled
+expression swept over her face--"but the little girl was nice, and she
+hadn't any child."
+
+Clorinda's countenance expressed no sorrow, but stared up at her mother
+unblinkingly. Phronsie bent over and dropped a kiss on the red lips.
+
+"Maybe she'll come again some day, if I watch by the big gate."
+
+"My goodness me!" Polly, running along the upper hall, peered over the
+railing. "What are you doing, Phronsie, sitting down in the middle of the
+stairs?"
+
+"I'm thinking," said Phronsie, looking up.
+
+"Well, I should say!" cried Polly, running down to sit beside her. "Oh,
+Pet, I've an invite for you." She seized Phronsie's hand and cuddled it in
+both of her own. "It's perfectly splendid."
+
+"What's an 'invite'?" asked Phronsie, coming slowly out of her thoughts, to
+peer into Polly's face.
+
+"Oh, I forgot, Mamsie didn't want me to say that," said Polly, with a
+little blush. "Well, it's an invitation, Pet, and to Miss Mary Taylor's, to
+go with us girls this afternoon to work on our fancy things for the fair.
+Only think of that, Phronsie Pepper!" And Polly threw her arms around the
+small figure, and hugged her, to the imminent danger of both falling down
+the rest of the flight.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "we almost went over."
+
+"Can I really go, Polly?" cried Phronsie, as soon as she could get her
+breath, "when you all take your bags and work on things?" She set Clorinda
+carefully down on the stair above, and stood up to look into Polly's face.
+
+"Yes, child. Take care, you'll tumble over backward," warned Polly, with a
+restraining hand. "And oh, Phronsie! I'm going to make you a little silk
+bag, and you can take your pin-cushion to work on."
+
+This was such a height of bliss that it quite overcame Phronsie, and she
+sat down on her stair again to think it over. To have a little silk bag to
+hang on her arm to carry her work in, just as Polly and the other girls did
+when they went to each other's houses with their fancy work, was more than
+she ever imagined was coming to her till she got as big as they were. And
+to put her "cushion-pin" in it, and go to Miss Mary Taylor's with them all,
+sent her into such a dream of delight that she sat quite still, her hands
+in her lap.
+
+"Don't you like it, Pet?" cried Polly, disappointed at her silence.
+
+Phronsie drew a long breath, then stood up and began to hop up and down on
+her stair.
+
+"Oh, Polly," she cried, clapping her hands, "I'm going to have a little
+silk bag, I truly am, Polly, all my own--oh!"
+
+"My goodness me, Phronsie!" cried Polly, seizing her arms, "you'll roll
+down and break your neck, most likely."
+
+"And I'll take my cushion-pin"--Phronsie leaned over and put her face close
+to Polly's cheek--"and I'll sew on it for the poor children, I will," and
+she began to hop up and down again.
+
+"Take care, and stop dancing," laughed Polly.
+
+"And it shall be a pink bag," said Phronsie, dreadfully excited; "make it a
+pink bag, do, Polly."
+
+"Oh, I don't know that I can do that," said Polly slowly, "because you know
+I took my piece of pink ribbon Auntie gave me, for that sachet case I'm
+making for the fair. But never mind, child"--as she saw a sorry little
+droop to Phronsie's mouth--"I'll find another somewhere, and it will be
+nice, even if it isn't pink."
+
+"It will be nice," echoed Phronsie confidently, as long as Polly said so,
+and she clasped her hands.
+
+"And come on, Pet, we'll go and find the ribbon and make the bag now, so as
+to be all ready." Polly flew up from her stair. "Pick up your doll, and
+give me your hand. Here we are!"--as they ran up to the top.
+
+"I very much wish you wouldn't call her my doll," panted Phronsie, as they
+reached the last step; "she's my child, Polly."
+
+"I know; I won't forget," laughed Polly. "Now, says I, Phronsie, for my
+piece-box!"
+
+The invitation of Miss Mary Taylor to all the girls who were getting up the
+fair for the poor children's week, plunged them into such a state of
+excitement that those who had been lagging over their fancy work now
+spirited up on it, or ran down-street to get more materials and begin anew.
+One of these was Clem Forsythe.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" cried Polly, looking up from the floor of her room, where
+Phronsie and she had thrown themselves, the piece-box of ribbons between
+them, "here comes Clem up the drive; now I 'most know she wants me to help
+her on that sofa-pillow," and she twitched a square of yellow silk into a
+tighter tangle. "How in the world did that spool get in here?" she
+exclaimed, in vexation.
+
+"I'll get it out, let me," begged Phronsie, dropping a fascinating bunch of
+gay ribbons she was sorting in the hope of finding a pink one.
+
+"Oh, you can't, child," cried Polly, her impatient fingers making sad work
+of the snarl. "There, I'll break the old thing, there's no other way"--as
+Clem ran over the stairs and into the room.
+
+"Oh, I'm so glad to find you!" panted Clem. "Dear me! what _are_ you
+doing?" And not waiting for an answer, she plunged on: "I stopped at
+Alexia's--thought you might be there. And she's just as mad as can be
+because I was coming over here for you. You see, her aunt has something for
+her to do this morning. I'm tickled to death that for once I got ahead of
+her. Whew! I'm so hot! I ran every step of the way." She threw herself down
+on the floor beside the two. "My, what a sight of ribbons, Polly Pepper!"
+
+"I'm going to have a silk bag, Clem," confided Phronsie, dropping the
+little bunch of ribbons in her lap, to lean over to look into the tall
+girl's face, "and I'm going to take my cushion-pin in it."
+
+"Are you, really?" said Clem. "Oh, Polly, you see, I want you to----"
+
+"Yes, I am." Phronsie nodded her yellow head. "Polly is going to make it
+right now, she is."
+
+"Is she? Oh, dear!" Clem gave a groan. "Oh, Polly, I did want you to----"
+
+"You see, I promised her this," Polly was guilty of interrupting. "She's
+been invited to Miss Mary's this afternoon with us girls, and she wants a
+silk bag to carry her work in, too, the same as we big girls have, don't
+you, Pet?" Polly stopped long enough in the final tussle with the snarl to
+set a kiss on Phronsie's round cheek.
+
+"Yes, I do, Polly," laughed Phronsie, with a wriggle of delight, "and I'm
+going to carry my cushion-pin in it, I am."
+
+"So you see I can't help you on your sofa-pillow, Clem," said Polly
+hurriedly, feeling dreadfully ashamed to have to say no.
+
+"Oh, I don't want any help on it," said Clem; "I finished that old thing,
+Polly."
+
+"Finished your sofa-pillow, Clem!" Polly dropped her snarl in her lap.
+"Why, how could you?--and you hadn't the dog worked, except one leg, and
+none of the filling in."
+
+"Oh, I don't mean I finished it in that way," said Clem carelessly. "I mean
+I'm done with it forever. I just hate that old dog, Polly, and so I gave
+the whole thing to our second girl, and she's going to work it for
+Christmas and send it to her mother."
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, "and now you won't give anything to the fair,"
+and her mouth drooped sorrowfully.
+
+"Oh, yes, I will, too," declared Clem cheerfully; "I'll give something ten
+times better than that old dog sitting up on a cushion. And nobody would
+have bought it when it was done, except my mother--I'd made her--so what's
+the use of finishing it? Anyway, I've given it to Bridget; and now I'm
+going to make the most elegant thing--you can't guess, Polly Pepper."
+
+"What is it?" cried Polly, with sparkling eyes.
+
+"Oh, that's telling," said Clem, in a tantalizing way. "You must guess."
+
+"Polly," said Phronsie, with a gentle little twitch on her arm, "can you
+find any pink ribbon?"
+
+"Yes, yes; I mean no, not yet," said Polly, in a preoccupied way, her eyes
+on Clem's face. "Oh, I can't guess; it might be anything, you know, Clem."
+
+"But it isn't; I mean it's something," declared Clem, in great triumph.
+"Oh, do hurry, you're so slow, Polly; it's too elegant for anything!"
+
+Polly leaned her face in her hands, and her elbows on her knees. "Mm,
+mm--oh, I know!" She brought up suddenly, nearly overthrowing Phronsie, who
+had bent anxiously over her. "Take care, Pet, I came near bumping your
+nose. It's a workbag."
+
+"A workbag!" exclaimed Clem, in great scorn. "Well, I guess not, Polly
+Pepper. What I'm going to make is ever so much better than an old workbag.
+Guess again."
+
+At the mention of the workbag, Phronsie had gently pulled Polly's arm. But
+Polly was too deep in thought to notice, and she wrinkled her brows, and
+bent her head again in her hands. What could it possibly be that Clem was
+to make?
+
+"Well, I think it is a sachet bag, then," she said at last.
+
+"An old sachet bag, when all the girls are making oceans of 'em! I should
+think you'd be perfectly ashamed, Polly Pepper, to sit there and guess such
+things. I'm going to make a most beautiful, embroidered handkerchief case,
+with little violets all----"
+
+"Why, you can't, Clem Forsythe!" Polly flew to her feet, sending the ribbon
+box flying, and nearly oversetting Phronsie. "You ought not to do any such
+thing," she ran on passionately, a little red spot coming on either cheek,
+"when you know it'll be just like mine. It would be too mean for anything."
+
+"It won't be just like it," said Clem, twisting uncomfortably, and not
+looking up into Polly's face, "for mine is to be a wreath, and yours is a
+bunch."
+
+"But it'll be the same thing," cried Polly, too angry to think what she was
+saying, "and you're perfectly mean and hateful to copy mine."
+
+"Polly," cried Phronsie, in a distressed little voice. She had gotten up to
+her feet, and now hurried over to hold Polly's gown. "Oh, don't, Polly,
+don't!"
+
+"Go away," commanded Polly, angrily twitching her gown free; "you don't
+know what you are doing, Phronsie, to stop me. She's gone and chosen the
+very thing I thought of all by myself."
+
+"I guess there are other violet handkerchief cases in the shops," said Clem
+coldly. She was getting over her uncomfortable fit, and now she sprang to
+her feet. "And I think you are mean and stingy, too, Polly Pepper"--she
+tossed her head high in the air--"to expect to keep all the best things to
+yourself, and we're all working ourselves most to death over this old fair.
+And I did come to ask you to go down-town with me to buy my materials.
+Mother's given me five dollars to spend just as I like--but I shan't ask
+you now, so there!" She gave her head another toss, and walked off toward
+the door.
+
+Phronsie deserted Polly and ran on unsteady little feet after her.
+
+"Polly isn't mean and stingy," she quavered; "she couldn't be."
+
+Clem looked down at her, and little uncomfortable thrills ran all over her.
+
+"Well, anyway, she's mad at me," she said, with great decision.
+
+"Oh, no, Polly isn't mad," declared Phronsie. She clasped her hands, and
+swallowed very hard to keep the tears back, but two big drops escaped and
+rolled down her cheeks. When Clem saw those, she turned away.
+
+"Well, anyway, I'm going down-street by myself," she said, without a
+backward glance at Polly, and off she went.
+
+"And if she thinks I'm going with her, or care what she does, after this,"
+cried Polly, magnificently, with her head in the air, "she'll make a
+mistake."
+
+"Polly, Polly!" The tears were rolling fast now, and Phronsie could
+scarcely see to stumble back across the room to her side.
+
+"And you don't know anything about it, child. To think of making a violet
+handkerchief case, and mine is almost done, and none of the girls would
+copy mine! And Jasper drew the flowers on purpose." She was going on so
+fast now that she couldn't stop herself.
+
+"Mamsie wouldn't like it," wailed Phronsie, clear gone in distress now, and
+hiding her face in Polly's gown.
+
+"Mamsie would say--" began Polly decidedly. Then she stopped suddenly. "Oh,
+what have I said!" she cried. "Oh, what can I do!" She clasped her hands
+tightly together. She was now in as much distress as Phronsie, and, seeing
+this, Phronsie came out of her tears at once.
+
+"You might run after her," she said. "Oh, Polly, do."
+
+"She won't speak to me," said Polly, with a little shiver, and covering her
+eyes. "Oh, dear, dear, how could I!"
+
+"Yes, she will, I do believe," said Phronsie, putting down a terrible
+feeling at her throat. Not speak to Polly?--such a thing could never be!
+"Do run after her, Polly," she begged.
+
+Polly took down her hands and went off with wavering steps to the door.
+
+"I'll get your hat," cried Phronsie, running to the closet.
+
+But Polly, once having decided to make the attempt at a reconciliation, was
+off, her brown braids flying back of her in the wind.
+
+
+
+
+IV
+
+MISS TAYLOR'S WORKING BEE
+
+
+Looking both sides of the road, not daring to think what she would say if
+she really did see Clem, Polly sped on. But not a glimpse of the tall
+girl's figure met her eyes, and at last she turned in at a gateway and ran
+up the little path to the door. Mrs. Forsythe saw her through the window
+that opened on the piazza.
+
+"Why, Polly Pepper," she cried, "what a pity that Clem didn't find you! She
+went over to your house."
+
+"Oh, I know, I know," panted Polly, with scarlet cheeks.
+
+"Don't try to talk," said Mrs. Forsythe, "you are all out of breath. Come
+in, Polly."
+
+"Oh, I can't. I mean I would like to see Clem," mumbled Polly, with an
+awful dread, now that she was on the point of finding her, of what she
+should say. It was all she could do to keep from running down the piazza
+steps and fleeing home as fast as she had come.
+
+"Why, Clem isn't at home," said Mrs. Forsythe, in a puzzled way; "you know
+I told you she had gone over to your house. She wanted you to go down-town
+with her, to buy some materials to take over to Miss Mary's this afternoon
+and begin something new for the fair."
+
+"Oh!" said Polly, in a faint voice, and hanging to the piazza railing.
+
+"You see, she was all tired out over that sofa-pillow. I told her it was
+quite too ambitious a piece to do, and she was so discouraged I gave her
+some more money, and advised her to get something fresh. She had almost
+made up her mind to give up working for the fair altogether."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" gasped Polly, quite overcome.
+
+"Yes." Mrs. Forsythe leaned comfortably against the door-casing. It was
+such a comfort to tell her worries to Polly Pepper. "Clem said all the
+other girls were making such pretty things, and it was no use for her to
+try. She can't get up new ideas quickly, you know, and she was ashamed not
+to take in something nice, and so she said she didn't mean to do anything.
+I couldn't bear to have her give it up, for she ought to keep with you
+girls." Mrs. Forsythe's face fell into anxious lines. "She gets unhappy by
+herself, with no young people in the house and only my mother and me to
+brighten her up. So I talked with her a long while this morning, and at
+last got her to be willing to try again. Well, it's all right now, for
+she's started to find you, and go down-town to buy the things," and Mrs
+Forsythe smiled happily.
+
+Polly sank to the piazza steps and buried her face in her hands.
+
+"Why, my dear, are you ill?" Clem's mother deserted the door-casing and
+came quickly out. "Let me get you something."
+
+"Oh, no, no!" Polly sprang to her feet and hurried down the steps. "I must
+go home," she said hoarsely; and not pausing to think, only to get to
+Mamsie, she sped away on the wings of the wind, not stopping until she had
+turned in at the little green wicket-gate where she wouldn't be likely to
+meet any one.
+
+"Oh, dear, dear!"--and she hurried across the grass--"supposing Mamsie
+isn't at home! She was going out for Auntie. What _shall_ I do?"
+
+In her despair she raced over the greensward and plunged into the Wistaria
+arbor--to stand face to face with Clem!
+
+Polly was too far gone in distress to say anything. Clem jerked up her head
+from the table, and raised a defiant pair of cheeks, wet and miserable.
+"Oh, dear, dear!" was all Polly could get out. But she stumbled in and put
+her arms around her neck, and down went the two heads together.
+
+"I'm awfully sorry," blubbered Clem. "Oh, dear! I forgot my handkerchief."
+
+"Take mine." Polly put a wet little wad into her hand. "Oh, Clem, if you
+don't let me go down-town with you and buy that handkerchief case!"
+
+"Let you!" cried Clem. "You won't want to go with me, Polly. But I'm not
+going to work a handkerchief case."
+
+"Oh, yes, you are," declared Polly positively. "If you don't, Clem
+Forsythe!"
+
+"It was mean in me to choose it," said Clem, beginning to sniffle again,
+now that she had a handkerchief.
+
+"Oh, no, no!" said Polly in alarm. "Now I know you won't forgive me when
+you say such things. For it was all my fault; I was stingy mean to want to
+keep it to myself."
+
+"You aren't ever mean, Polly Pepper!" Clem hugged her so tightly by the
+neck that the neat little ruffle Mamsie sewed in that very morning was
+quite crushed. When she saw that, Clem was in worse distress than ever.
+
+"See here! Why, Clem Forsythe!" Polly Pepper flew up to her feet so
+suddenly, that Clem started in amazement, and stared at her as well as she
+could with her eyes full of tears.
+
+"Why, can't you see? Haven't we been two goosies--geese, I mean--not to
+think of it before!"
+
+"What?" asked Clem helplessly.
+
+"Why, you might make a violet _glove_ case," said Polly, in a burst.
+Then she began to dance around the arbor. "Oh, Clem, how perfectly lovely!"
+
+"I don't see," began Clem dismally, "and I don't know how to make a glove
+case."
+
+"Why, make it just like my handkerchief case, only long," flung Polly over
+her shoulder, as she danced away.
+
+"But I don't want to copy yours," protested Clem, "for it really would be
+mean."
+
+"But this would make a set, yours and mine," said Polly breathlessly, and
+coming up to shake the downcast shoulders, "don't you see? Oh, you goosie!
+and I've been another, not to think of it before. And oh, such a set! Why,
+it would sell for a lot of money. And I'll ask Jasper to draw you the same
+kind of bunch of violets on your glove case, and we'll go right down-town,
+now. I can make Phronsie's bag when I get home. Come on!"
+
+When Clem once had the idea in her mind, she got off from the bench, and
+Phronsie, watching anxiously from Polly's window for her return, saw the
+two girls hurrying across the lawn, their arms around each other and
+talking busily. And it wasn't but a moment or two, and she was flying over
+the grass to meet them. Polly had explained that the little ribbon bag was
+to be made just as soon as the materials for the new glove case were
+bought. Polly had run up for her hat, and to get her little purse, for she
+just remembered that her green silk for the violet stems was nearly out,
+and Phronsie had said good-bye and gone back to the house on happy feet, to
+tell Clorinda and watch at the window till Polly should come again.
+
+And just after luncheon, for they must start early in order to have a good
+long afternoon at Miss Mary's, Polly and Phronsie set forth, the new little
+bag hanging from Phronsie's arm. Jasper went with them as far as the
+corner, where he turned off to go to Jack Rutherford's, for the boys were
+to meet there to write letters for the post office. They had promised to be
+there bright and early.
+
+"Oh, Jasper, it was so good of you to draw that dear bunch of violets for
+Clem," said Polly for about the fiftieth time; "it was too sweet for
+anything."
+
+"Too sweet for anything," hummed Phronsie, all her eyes on her bag,
+dangling as she walked.
+
+"Take care, you came near falling on your nose, Phronsie." Jasper put out a
+warning hand.
+
+"I think it's so nice there's a pink stripe in it, Polly," said Phronsie,
+patting her bag affectionately.
+
+"Yes, isn't it, Pet!" cried Polly, glad she hadn't snipped up that very
+ribbon for little sachet bags. "And the green stripe, too, is pretty,
+Phronsie."
+
+"It's pretty," cooed Phronsie, "and my cushion-pin is inside, Japser," she
+announced.
+
+"Is it really?" said Jasper.
+
+"Yes, it is really and truly, Japser, and I'm going to work on it," she
+added, with a very important air.
+
+"You don't say so, Pet!" he cried. "Why, you are going to a working bee
+just the same as the big girls, aren't you?"
+
+"I'm very big," said Phronsie, stepping so high she nearly fell into a
+mud-puddle. Whereat Jasper picked her up, bag and all, and marched off,
+laughing, not to set her down till they reached the corner.
+
+"Well, good-bye. Take care now, Phronsie," and he gave her a kiss.
+"Good-bye, Polly, and good luck to your bee."
+
+"And I do hope you'll have splendid success with the letters, Jasper,"
+Polly craned her neck around the corner to say, the last thing. Then she
+took Phronsie's hand and hurried along to meet a throng of girls, all bound
+for Miss Mary's.
+
+There on the big stone steps was Mr. Hamilton Dyce.
+
+"I heard there was to be a bee here this afternoon," he said, looking down
+at them all with a smile, "so I thought I'd come."
+
+"I'm coming," announced Phronsie, breaking away from Polly and holding up
+her bag; and she began to mount the steps.
+
+"So I perceive," said Mr. Dyce, running down to meet her. "Well, Phronsie,
+I must tell you I came partly to see you."
+
+"And I've got a cushion-pin inside," said Phronsie confidingly, as she
+toiled up.
+
+"Have you, though?" cried Mr. Dyce. "Take care, don't go so fast. Let some
+of these girls race ahead of us; we'll take our time. How d'ye, Polly, and
+Alexia, and all the rest of you?"
+
+"But I must hurry," said Phronsie, with a very pink face, as the bevy
+rushed by, "for I'm going to work on my cushion-pin."
+
+"So you must. Well, then, here goes!" Mr. Dyce swung her up to his shoulder
+and went, two steps at a time, in through the crowd of girls, so that he
+arrived there first when the door was opened. There in the hall stood Miss
+Mary Taylor, as pretty as a pink.
+
+"I heard there was to be a bee here this afternoon, and I've brought
+Phronsie; that's my welcome," he announced.
+
+"See, I've got a bag," announced Phronsie from her perch, and holding it
+forth.
+
+So the bag was admired, and the girls trooped in, going up into Miss Mary's
+pretty room to take off their things. And presently the big library, with
+the music-room adjoining, was filled with the gay young people, and the
+bustle and chatter began at once.
+
+"I should think you'd be driven wild by them all wanting you at the same
+minute." Mr. Dyce, having that desire at this identical time, naturally
+felt a bit impatient, as Miss Mary went about inspecting the work, helping
+to pick out a stitch here and to set a new one there, admiring everyone's
+special bit of prettiness, and tossing a smile and a gay word in every
+chance moment between.
+
+"Oh, no," said Miss Mary, with a little laugh, "they're most of them my
+Sunday-school scholars, you know."
+
+"That's all the more reason that you ought not to be bothered with them
+week days," observed Mr. Dyce. "Now why can't you sit down here and amuse
+me?" He pushed up an easy-chair into a cosy-corner, then drew up an
+ottoman, on which he sat down.
+
+"Oh, look at that Mr. Dyce," said Clem, quite in a flow of spirits, as she
+threaded her needle with a strand of violet silk; "he's going to keep Miss
+Mary off there all to himself. What did make him come this afternoon?"
+
+"Well, he isn't going to have Miss Mary!" cried Alexia Rhys, twitching her
+pink worsted with an impatient hand. "Horrors! Now I've gone and gotten
+that into a precious snarl. The very idea! She's our Sunday-school teacher.
+Oh, Miss Mary!" she called suddenly.
+
+Miss Taylor, just sitting down in the easy-chair, turned. "What is it,
+Alexia?"--while Mr. Dyce frowned. At which Alexia laughed over at him.
+
+"Please show me about my work," she begged.
+
+"You little tyrant!" called Mr. Dyce, as Miss Mary went over.
+
+"Do I slip one stitch and then knit two?" asked Alexia innocently. Polly,
+next to her on a cricket, opened wide eyes.
+
+"Yes," said Miss Mary, "just the same as you have been knitting all along,
+Alexia."
+
+"Well, I couldn't think of anything else to ask," said Alexia coolly. Then
+she laid hold of Miss Mary's pretty, gray gown.
+
+"Oh, don't go back to him," she implored. "Do stay with us girls, we're all
+your Sunday-school class--that is, most of us. _Please_ stay with us,
+Miss Mary."
+
+Miss Mary cast an imploring glance over at the gentleman, which he seemed
+to see, although apparently he wasn't looking.
+
+"Phronsie, you and I will have to move over, I think"; for by this time he
+had her in his lap; and so he bundled her across the room unceremoniously.
+
+"Oh, I've lost my needle!" cried Phronsie, peering out from his arms in
+great distress.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Mr. Dyce; so he set her down and dropped to all-fours
+to peer about for the shining little implement, Phronsie getting down on
+her knees to assist the search.
+
+Alexia, seeing the trouble, deserted her knitting, and flew out of her
+chair to help look for it.
+
+"You little tyrant!" exclaimed Mr. Dyce, as she added herself to the group,
+"to call Miss Mary over there! I should think it was quite bad enough to
+have you Sundays, Alexia."
+
+"Miss Mary thinks a great deal of me," said Alexia composedly. "Dear me,
+what a plaguey little thing that needle is! Never mind, Phronsie, don't
+feel badly. I guess--oh, here it is, and sticking straight up."
+
+"And all this would never have happened but for your calling Miss Mary
+away," observed Mr. Dyce, getting up straight again. "What a little
+nuisance you are, Alexia!" All of which she had heard from him so many
+times before that it failed to disturb her, so she went back to her seat in
+high spirits, Phronsie hopping over like a small rabbit to a little cricket
+at Polly's feet. At this there was a bustle among the girls.
+
+"Sit next to me, Miss Mary," begged Silvia Horne, sweeping a chair clear.
+
+"No, no," cried Amy Garrett, "she's coming here!"
+
+"I call that nice," exclaimed Alexia decidedly, "when I asked her to come
+across the room! I'm going to sit next to her of course."
+
+"You'd much better have stayed with me," laughed Mr. Hamilton Dyce, "since
+there'll be one long fight over you. Better come back."
+
+But Miss Mary, protesting that the girls needed her, finally settled it by
+getting her chair into the middle of the group, which she made into a
+circle.
+
+"There, now, we're all comfy together," she announced. "Now, Mr. Dyce, you
+must read us something."
+
+"Oh, tell us a story," put in Alexia, who didn't relish listening to
+reading.
+
+"Oh, yes, a story, a story," they one and all took it up. Even Phronsie
+laid down her big needle which she was patiently dragging back and forth,
+with a very long piece of red worsted following its trail across the face
+of her "cushion-pin" in a way to suit her own design, to beg for the story.
+
+"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, for the first time catching sight of this,
+"you can't work with such a long thread. Let me cut off some of it, do."
+
+"Oh, no, no," protested Phronsie, edging off in alarm.
+
+"Why, it'll get all knotted up," said Polly, in concern; "you better let me
+take off a little--just a little, teenty bit, Phronsie."
+
+"No, no," declared Phronsie decidedly, "I must hurry and get my cushion-pin
+done."
+
+"She thinks she'll get it done faster with a great, long thread," giggled
+one of the girls over in the corner. Mr. Dyce turning to fix her with a
+stare, she subsided, ducking behind her neighbor's back.
+
+"Phronsie, I must buy that cushion-pin at the fair," he announced. "I want
+such an one very much indeed."
+
+Phronsie got off from the little cricket where he had placed her, and went
+straight over to him, to lay her hand with the "cushion-pin" in it on his
+knee. "Then I will sell it to you," she said gravely, "and the poor
+children can go into the country." Then she went back to her seat and took
+up her work once more.
+
+Some of the girls laughed, but Alexia frowned furiously at them; and Mr.
+Dyce and Miss Mary apparently seeing no amusement in it, they all began to
+beg for the story again, till the clamor bade fair to stop the needles from
+doing their work.
+
+"I guess you'll have to," Miss Mary smiled over at him from the center of
+the circle, while the color deepened on her cheek.
+
+"I want a story told to me first," he said coolly, leaning back in his
+chair. "What is all this bee for, and this fair? I know just a hint about
+that, but let me have the whole story from beginning to end. Now then, some
+one tell me. I am very anxious to hear."
+
+"You tell, Polly," cried Alexia, and "Let Polly Pepper tell, can't she,
+Miss Mary?" begged all the girls, every one saying the same thing. So Miss
+Mary said yes, and Polly laid down her violet handkerchief case in her lap,
+although she hated to stop working, and began:
+
+"You see, Miss Mary said one day in Sunday-school----"
+
+"Oh, Polly, not that!" said Miss Taylor, in dismay.
+
+"Go on, Polly, and tell every word," said Mr. Hamilton Dyce. "I'm to be
+told the whole story; from the very beginning, now mind. You said, 'One day
+in Sunday-school.' Now go on."
+
+"Yes," said Polly, her cheeks like a rose for fear her dear Miss Mary might
+not like it, "Miss Mary said we ought to be doing things, not always
+talking about them and learning how to be good; and she said there were so
+many poor children who were waiting for us to help them. And----"
+
+"Polly, you don't need to tell that. He wants to know about the fair," Miss
+Taylor broke in suddenly.
+
+"Oh, dear!" said poor Polly, blushing rosier than ever and moving her
+cricket so that she need not see Miss Mary's face, while Mr. Dyce,
+protesting that he was not to be cheated out of a single word of the
+narration, made her go back and tell over the last thing she said. This was
+so much worse that Miss Mary decided she would let the story go on at all
+hazards, so she leaned back in her chair resignedly, while Polly went on:
+
+"Well, and so we said, 'Yes, Miss Mary, we'd like to' and what could we do,
+for we didn't know how to help poor children."
+
+"And I said I didn't want to," broke in Alexia suddenly.
+
+"But you did, Alexia!" cried Polly, whirling around on her cricket to
+regard her affectionately. "Oh, Mr. Dyce, she did help"--looking over at
+him anxiously.
+
+"Oh, yes, I see," nodded that gentleman, "and she's working on some
+fandango for the fair just as hard as you other girls."
+
+"Oh, this horrible old shawl!" said Alexia, regarding the worsted folds
+dangling from her needle with anything but favor. "Well, I didn't want it,
+and nobody will buy it, I know, but the other girls were all going to do
+things, so I had to."
+
+"Well, go on, Polly," said Mr. Dyce, with a laugh. So Polly, quite
+satisfied that he really understood how Alexia was helping along the work
+for the poor children the same as the others, hurried on with the story.
+
+"Well, so then Miss Mary proposed that we hold a fair, and Grandpapa said
+we might have it on his grounds; and Auntie Whitney said why not have a
+garden party, and sell tickets, for perhaps some people wouldn't care to
+buy things and----"
+
+"And I'm going to put my cushion-pin on the table," piped Phronsie
+suddenly, her checks all aglow with excitement, and dropping her needle
+again.
+
+"So you shall," cried Mr. Dyce, "only you must have a little card saying
+'Sold' on it; for I am surely going to buy that pincushion, Phronsie."
+
+And then Polly flew back to her work again, and Mr. Dyce told such a very
+funny story about some monkeys who were going to give a party in the woods
+to all the other animals, that Phronsie forgot all about her needle, and
+ran over to clamber up into his lap.
+
+And then, oh, the needles flew; and Clem's green stems began to grow, and a
+tiny bud showed itself, and then a full-blown violet. And Alexia's pink
+shawl took ever so many rows, and all the work seemed to flourish like
+magic. And at last, Miss Mary looked up at the clock.
+
+"Time to put up work, girls," she cried gayly. And then wasn't there a
+great bustle, every one trying to see which would get hers into her bag
+first! And then, oh, such a stretching of tired arms and feet!
+
+"Oh, dear me! the prickles are all running up and down my legs," exclaimed
+Alexia.
+
+"Hush, well, so are mine," declared Clem. "Oh, dear me--ow! I haven't sat
+still for so long--ever, I guess."
+
+"Nor I," laughed another girl.
+
+"Come." Miss Mary was telling Mr. Dyce to lead the way to the dining-room.
+So they all fell into line, and, when there, they forgot tired legs and
+arms in the delights of the little feast set out.
+
+Miss Mary sat down by the small table and poured chocolate for them, a
+white-capped maid at her chair, Mr. Hamilton Dyce on the other side as
+grand helper. Then the girls settled down in pretty groups on the broad
+window-seats, and on the high-backed chairs, and gave themselves up to the
+supreme content of the hour.
+
+And then Miss Mary proposed that they should wind up the afternoon with a
+dance, which was received with a shout of delight. So she led the way to
+the drawing-room and sat down before the grand piano.
+
+"Can't one of you girls play?" asked Mr. Dyce, at that.
+
+"Oh, no, no," said Miss Mary, "the girls must dance." So, without waiting
+for any words, she struck into a two-step.
+
+"Oh, I'll play, I'll play." Polly Pepper ran out from the midst of the
+group.
+
+"Polly, come back, you are going to dance with me," cried Alexia.
+
+"No, you're always getting her first. She's going to dance with me,"
+announced Clem.
+
+Polly was already over at the piano, trying to be heard, but Miss Mary only
+laughed and shook her head.
+
+"No use, Polly," said Mr. Dyce, and he put his arm around her, and away
+they went down the length of the drawing-room.
+
+"Well, at least you haven't got this first dance," said Alexia.
+
+"Nor you, either," retorted Clem. "So come on, let's dance together," and
+away they went, too.
+
+And at last, when it was time to go home, Mr. Hamilton Dyce, who had
+absented himself after that first dance, drove up with a flourish to the
+door in his runabout.
+
+"I've come for Phronsie Pepper," he said.
+
+So Phronsie, half asleep, had her hat tied on, and kissed Miss Mary, and
+Polly lifted her up and guided her foot over the step, Mr. Dyce, the reins
+in one hand, helping her with the other.
+
+"Good-bye," he called, his eyes on no one but Miss Mary.
+
+"Oh, my bag, my bag!" cried Phronsie, in a wail of distress, and leaning
+forward suddenly.
+
+"Take care, child; where are you going?" Mr. Dyce put forth a restraining
+hand and held her closely.
+
+"My bag!" Phronsie looked back, the tears racing over her round cheeks.
+
+"I'll bring it home," called Polly from the steps, where she was back among
+the knot of girls.
+
+"My bag!" Phronsie continued to wail.
+
+"Dear me!" cried Polly, "she must have it now." So she ran into the house
+to get it, where Phronsie had left it on her little cricket, Mr. Dyce
+meanwhile saying, "There, there, child, you shall have it," while he turned
+the little mare sharply about.
+
+"We can't ever find the needle," said Alexia, rushing after Polly into the
+library, and getting down on her knees to prowl over the floor. "Misery
+me!"--with a jump--"I've found it already, sticking straight into me!"
+
+So Phronsie's "cushion-pin" was thrust into the gay little
+pink-and-green-striped workbag, and Polly danced out with it and
+handed it up to her. Mr. Dyce cracked the whip, and this time they
+were fairly off.
+
+
+
+
+V
+
+"SHE'S MY LITTLE GIRL"
+
+
+"Oh, I do wish, Polly," cried Phronsie, as they ran along the hollyhock
+path, "that my poor little girl could go to the country. Can't she, Polly?"
+she asked anxiously.
+
+"Oh, yes, of course," assented Polly, her mind on the garden party, now
+only three days ahead. "Phronsie, how perfectly elegant those roses are
+going to be!"--pointing off to the old-fashioned varieties blooming
+riotously.
+
+"Oh, Polly!" Phronsie stood still a moment in silent bliss, then hopped up
+and down the narrow path. "I'm so glad she can go! Oh, Polly, I'm so
+_very_ glad!"
+
+"Who?" cried Polly, in perplexity.
+
+"My little girl, my poor little girl," said Phronsie, hopping away.
+
+"Oh, of course." Polly gave a little laugh. "Well, there are lots of poor
+little girls who will go, Phronsie," she said, in great satisfaction,
+"because, you know, we're going to make a great deal of money, I expect.
+Why, Grandpapa has told Thomas to buy ever so many flowers. Just think,
+child, and the oceans we have here!" She waved her hands over to take in
+not only the old-fashioned garden where they stood, but the smart
+flower-beds beyond, the pride and joy of the gardeners. "Oh, yes, there
+will be ever so many children who will be happy in the country in the
+summer."
+
+"And my poor little girl," persisted Phronsie gleefully, "she will be
+happy, Polly. Oh, let's go down to the big gate--p'raps she's there now
+--and tell her. Please, Polly." She seized Polly's hand m great excitement.
+
+Polly sank to her knees in delight over a little bed of daisies.
+
+"I do think these are the very sweetest things, Phronsie Pepper," she said.
+"See the cunning baby ones coming out."
+
+"Please, Polly," begged Phronsie, clinging to her hand.
+
+"Why, Phronsie!" Polly looked up in amazement. Not to pay attention to the
+baby daisies was certainly astonishing, when Phronsie was always so rapt
+over the new flowers. "What is it you want, child?"
+
+"Please come down to the big gate, Polly," pleaded Phronsie, her lip
+quivering, for Polly was not usually so hard to understand.
+
+"Yes, I will," said Polly, reluctantly tearing herself away from the
+fascinating daisies. "Now then, we'll go there right away; one, two, three,
+and away!"
+
+"I guess--she'll--be--there," panted Phronsie, but she was running so fast
+to keep up with Polly's longer steps that her words died away on the air;
+and Polly, who dearly loved a race over the grass, was letting her mind
+travel to the delights of the garden party, and what it was going to
+accomplish, so she didn't hear.
+
+At last there was the big gate.
+
+"Dear me!" cried Polly, with a gay little laugh, "what a fine race! No
+wonder you wanted me to try it with you! Why, Pet, have I run too fast?"
+She looked with remorse at the flushed little face.
+
+"No," gasped Phronsie, "but oh, Polly, will you sit down on the grass?"
+
+"To be sure I will," said Polly very remorsefully, "you're all tired out.
+There, let's come over here," and she led her over to the very tree under
+which Phronsie had fallen asleep. "Here's where I found you the other day,
+Phronsie, when you were so tired. Heigh-ho!" And Polly threw herself down
+on the grass, and drew Phronsie into her lap.
+
+"P'raps she'll come," said Phronsie, and the sorrowful look began to
+disappear as she cuddled in Polly's arms. "Don't you believe she will,
+Polly?" She put her face close to Polly's to peer anxiously into her brown
+eyes.
+
+"Who, child?" asked Polly.
+
+"The poor little girl--my poor little girl," exclaimed Phronsie.
+
+"Oh, there isn't any little girl, at least any particular one," cried
+Polly. "We're going to send ever so many little girls into the country,
+Phronsie, but not any special one."
+
+"Oh, yes, there is," contradicted Phronsie, her lip quivering again, and,
+despite all her efforts, the big tears began to course down her cheeks.
+"She's my little girl, and I like her. Please let her go, Polly. And maybe
+she'll come soon, if we only wait for her." It was a long speech, and by
+the time it was all out, Phronsie had laid her head in Polly's neck, and
+was sobbing as if her heart would break.
+
+It was for this reason that Polly did not happen to look up across the
+grass to the big gate, so of course she couldn't be expected to see what
+took place there. And it was not until Phronsie had been persuaded to sit
+straight and have her tears wiped away, because Mamsie wouldn't like to
+have her cry, that any one guessed it at all. And in one instant Polly's
+lap was deserted, Phronsie was flying over the greensward, crying out:
+
+"There she is--my poor little girl!"
+
+It took but a moment for Polly's swift feet to follow, but none too soon,
+for the thin little face with the sharp, black eyes was withdrawn, and the
+flapping old shoes were beating a hasty retreat. But Polly was after her,
+and her hand was on her arm, and the first thing the stranger knew she was
+drawn within the big gateway, Phronsie circling around her with great
+satisfaction.
+
+"She _did_ come, Polly, she did."
+
+"Lemme be. I warn't doin' nothin' but peekin'," said the girl, trying to
+wriggle away from Polly's grasp. But Polly held on.
+
+"Don't be frightened; there isn't any one going to hurt you. What's your
+name, little girl?"
+
+"She's my little girl," insisted Phronsie, trying to get hold of the thin
+little hand, which was less grimy than usual.
+
+"What's your name?" asked Polly again.
+
+"Rag," said the girl, in a burst.
+
+"Rag? Oh, dear me!" said Polly.
+
+"Lemme go. I hain't done no harm. Gran'll be wantin' me."
+
+"Who?"
+
+"Gran." The girl, at that, tried to fold up her arms in the remains of her
+sleeves. But Polly saw the long, red welts that were not pleasant to look
+at. She gave a little shiver, but held on firmly to the tattered ends.
+
+"Oh, make her stay," cried Phronsie; "I want her to play with me. I'll let
+you take Clorinda again, and she shall be your child," she stood up on
+tiptoe to say.
+
+"Can't," said the girl, making a desperate effort to twitch away. "Lemme
+go."
+
+"No, you cannot go until you have told me who you are, and how you know my
+little sister."
+
+Rag looked into the brown eyes of the little girl not so much older, drew a
+long breath, then burst out, "She's visited me to my house," and, putting
+on the most defiant expression possible, stood quite still.
+
+_"Visited you at your house!"_ echoed Polly. She nearly dropped the
+ragged sleeve.
+
+"Yes, an' I give her a five-o'clock tea," said Rag proudly. "Any harm in
+that? An' I brung her home again, and she ain't hurt a bit. You lemme go,
+you girl, you!"
+
+"You must come and see Grandpapa," said Polly firmly, a little white line
+around her mouth.
+
+"I ain't a-goin'." Rag showed instant fight against any such idea.
+
+"Then, if you don't," said Polly, gripping her arm, "I shall call the
+gardeners, and they will bring you up to the house."
+
+"Oh, do come," cried Phronsie, who thought everything most delightfully
+conspiring to make her friend remain. "Dear Grandpapa will love you, little
+girl; come with Polly and me."
+
+She took hold of her other arm, and Rag, seeing no way out of it and wholly
+bewildered, suffered herself to be led up to the grand mansion.
+
+"Bless me; what have we here?" Old Mr. King, enjoying a morning
+constitutional on the big veranda, looked over his spectacles, which he had
+forgotten to remove as he had just thrown down the morning paper in a
+chair, and stared in amazement at the three children coming over the lawn.
+
+"My poor little girl, Grandpapa," announced Phronsie, releasing the arm she
+clung to, and tumbling up over the steps, "and please make her stay, and
+I'm going to let her take Clorinda," and she plunged breathlessly into the
+old gentleman's arms.
+
+"Hoity-toity, child!" exclaimed old Mr. King, holding her closely. "Well,
+what have we here?"--as Polly led Rag up on to the veranda.
+
+"I don't know, Grandpapa," said Polly, still keeping tight hold of the arm
+in its tattered sleeve.
+
+"It seems to be a little girl," said Grandpapa, peering at the stranger.
+
+"Yes, it's my little girl," said Phronsie happily, "and she's come to play
+with me, Grandpapa."
+
+"Oh, my goodness me!" exclaimed Mr. King, stepping backward and drawing
+Phronsie closer.
+
+"I ain't come. _She_ brung me," said the girl, pointing with a thumb
+over at Polly; "tain't my fault; she made me."
+
+"Polly, what is all this?" asked the old gentleman perplexedly, staring at
+one and the other.
+
+"I don't know, Grandpapa," said Polly, the little white line still around
+her mouth; "she says Phronsie has been at her house, and----"
+
+"_Phronsie been at her house!_" thundered the old gentleman.
+
+"Yes, she has. An' I give her a five-o'clock tea," cried Rag, in a burst,
+who, thinking that she was probably now going to be killed, began to take
+pleasure in telling all she knew. "Swell folks does; I seen 'em plenty of
+times on th' avenoo, an' here, too"--she nodded toward the long French
+windows--"an' I got as good a right, I guess. An' she let me take her doll,
+an' I like her. An' we had an orful good time till Gran came in, an' then
+we lit out, an' I brung her home. Now what you goin' to do about it?" She
+folded her thin arms as well as she could, for Polly was still holding to
+one, and glared defiantly out of her sharp, black eyes.
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa, her arms!" Polly was pointing to the long, red welts.
+
+Rag turned as if shot, and twitched the ragged sleeves down, tucking the
+free arm behind her back. "Lemme go, you girl: you hain't no right to see
+'em, it's none o' your business," she screamed at Polly. Old Mr. King had
+sunk into a chair. Phronsie, in his lap, was so busy in putting her face
+close to his, and telling him that it was really her own poor little girl,
+that she had failed to see the arms and the disclosures they had made.
+
+"Go and get your mother," he said, after a breathing space. "Oh, stay! I
+can't hold her"--with a gesture of disgust.
+
+"An' you ain't a-goin' to tetch me," declared Rag proudly; "no, sir-ee!"
+
+"Well, Phronsie, you jump down and go and get your mother," Mr. King
+whispered, smoothing her yellow hair with a trembling hand.
+
+"I will--I will," she cried gleefully, hopping out of his lap.
+
+"Oh, don't send her away." All the defiance dropped out of Rag's face and
+manner, and she whimpered miserably. "She's th' only nice one there is
+here. Don't let her go."
+
+"She's coming right back, little girl," said old Mr. King kindly. He even
+smiled. But the girl had hung her head, so she didn't see it, and she
+blubbered on.
+
+"I'll bring Mamsie to see my poor little girl," Phronsie kept saying to
+herself over and over, as she scuttled off, and in a very few minutes
+Mother Fisher was out on the veranda in obedience to old Mr. King's
+summons.
+
+"It's beyond me"--the old gentleman waved his hand at Rag--"you'll have to
+unravel it, Mrs. Fisher. Here, Phronsie, get up in my lap." He strained her
+so tightly to him, as Phronsie hopped into her accustomed nest, that she
+looked up.
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa!" she exclaimed.
+
+"Did I hurt you, child?" he said, in a broken voice.
+
+"A little, Grandpapa dear," she said.
+
+"Well--oh, Lord bless me! I can't talk, child," he finished brokenly.
+
+"Are you sick, Grandpapa?" she asked, sitting straight to look at him
+anxiously. "Does your head ache? I'll smooth it for you," and she began to
+pat his white hair.
+
+"Oh, no, child, my head doesn't ache. There, sit still, dear, that's all I
+want." So Phronsie cuddled up within his arms, feeling quite sure that now
+Mamsie had her own poor little girl, everything would be all right.
+
+"She's my nice little girl, and I like her," Phronsie was saying. "Yes, I
+do, very much indeed, Grandpapa."
+
+"You do?"
+
+"Yes, and I want her to stay here, Grandpapa. Please, may she?"
+
+"Oh, dear!"
+
+"_Please_, Grandpapa dear." Phronsie put up one hand and tucked it
+softly under his chin. He seized it and covered it with kisses.
+
+"Oh, my lamb--that wicked, careless Joanna!"
+
+"What's the matter, Grandpapa?" Phronsie brought up her head to look at him
+with troubled eyes.
+
+"Nothing--nothing, child; there, cuddle down again. Your mother is talking
+to the little girl, and she will fix up things. Oh, bless me!"
+
+"Mamsie will fix up things, won't she, Grandpapa?" cooed Phronsie,
+wriggling her toes happily.
+
+"Yes, dear."
+
+"Grandpapa," said Phronsie, after a moment's silence only broken by a soft
+murmur of voices, for Mother Fisher had drawn her group to the further
+corner, "I don't think my little girl has got a very nice place to live
+in."
+
+"Oh, Phronsie, child!" He strained her convulsively to his breast. "There,
+there, lamb, Oh, I didn't mean to! Grandpapa won't hurt his little pet for
+the world."
+
+"You didn't hurt me this time," said Phronsie, "as much as you did before,
+Grandpapa dear."
+
+"Oh, my child! Grandpapa wouldn't hurt a hair of your blessed head. Oh,
+that dreadful Joanna!"
+
+"I like my own little girl very much indeed," said Phronsie, dismissing her
+own hurts to go on with her narrative. "Yes, I do, Grandpapa," she added
+decidedly, "but I don't like the place she lived in. And, Grandpapa"--here
+she drew a long breath--"there was an old lady came in, and I don't think
+she was a nice old lady, I don't, Grandpapa." Phronsie crept up a bit
+closer, if that were possible.
+
+"What did she do, child?" He held his breath for the answer.
+
+"She took hold of my arm," said Phronsie, a shiver seizing her at the
+remembrance, and she burrowed deeper within the protecting arms, "and she
+felt of my beads that Auntie gave me."
+
+"What else?" He scarcely seemed to ask the question.
+
+"And my own little girl pulled me away, and she carried me home, most of
+the way, and I like her." Phronsie brought herself up with an emphatic
+little nod, and smiled.
+
+"That was good."
+
+Phronsie smiled radiantly. "Wasn't it, Grandpapa!" she cried, in delight.
+"And I want her to stay. May she? Oh, may she? She's my own little girl."
+
+"We'll see about it," said old Mr. King, with a thought of the long welts
+on the thin arms, and the furious old woman.
+
+"What's that noise?" asked Phronsie, suddenly lifting her head.
+
+"Oh, a bird, maybe," said the old gentleman, carelessly looking up to the
+vines swinging around the veranda. "There, lay your head down again,
+child."
+
+"It didn't sound like a bird, Grandpapa. I thought some one was crying."
+Yet she put her yellow head obediently down, and didn't lift it again till
+Mother Fisher stood by the side of old Mr. King's chair.
+
+"Well, is the conference over?" he asked.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Pepper. Her lips had a little white line around them, too,
+like that on Polly's mouth, and the black eyes had a strange expression.
+
+Phronsie popped her head up like a bird out of its nest, and piped out:
+
+"Oh, please, Mamsie, may she stay?"
+
+"Yes," said Mother Fisher, "she is going to stay, Phronsie."
+
+"Oh, my goodness me!" breathed old Mr. King.
+
+Phronsie slipped out of his arms and began to dance, clapping her hands.
+
+"I'm going to play with her now, but I must get Clorinda first," she cried
+excitedly.
+
+"See here, Phronsie," Mother Fisher called, as she was flying off, "you
+must not play with the little girl yet."
+
+Phronsie stood quite still.
+
+"Come here to mother." Mrs. Fisher opened her arms and Phronsie scuttled
+into them like a little rabbit. Mrs. Pepper held her so closely that
+Phronsie looked up quickly.
+
+"Why, you are hurting me like Grandpapa, Mamsie."
+
+"Oh, my child!" Mother Fisher seemed to forget herself, as she bowed her
+head over Phronsie's yellow hair.
+
+"What is the matter, Mamsie?" asked Phronsie. "I wish I could see your
+face," and she wriggled violently.
+
+"Nothing is the matter now," said Mamsie. "There, child, now I'll tell you.
+If the little girl stays here, she----"
+
+"She's my little girl," interrupted Phronsie.
+
+"Well, if she stays here, she must be washed and have on clean clothes. So
+Sarah has taken her, and is going to fix her all up nice."
+
+"Oh--oh!" cried Phronsie, in a transport, "and can she have some of Polly's
+clothes, Mamsie?"
+
+"Yes, I guess so. Anyway, we will fix her up all nicely."
+
+"And may she stay here for ever and ever," cried Phronsie, "and not go back
+to that un-nice old lady? Please, Mamsie, don't let her go back," she
+pleaded.
+
+Over the yellow hair the old gentleman had found out and communicated
+several things back and forth. One was, "I don't think she is the child's
+own grandmother." "Mr. Cabot can investigate," and so on.
+
+"What are you whispering about?" at last asked Phronsie.
+
+"Nothing that you should know, dear. Now I'm going to put you in
+Grandpapa's lap, Phronsie. You must be a good girl," and Mother Pepper went
+off.
+
+"You must take care of me, Phronsie," said the old gentleman, "for I really
+think I need it now. And I guess my hair does want to be smoothed, after
+all."
+
+"I'll stay and take care of you, Grandpapa," said Phronsie, delighted that
+her services were really to be called for, and with her heart at rest about
+her own poor little girl.
+
+
+
+
+VI
+
+GRANDMA BASCOM
+
+
+"Deary me!" Grandma Bascom stopped shooing out the hens from her kitchen
+doorway, and leaned on the broom-handle. "If here don't come Mis'
+Henderson! Now I shall hear about that blessed little creeter and all the
+rest of them childern."
+
+"Good-afternoon." The parson's wife went swiftly up the flag-bordered path
+between the lilac bushes. "It's a beautiful day, Mrs. Bascom."
+
+"Hey?" Grandma's shaking hand went up to her cap-border, so Mrs. Henderson
+had to say it over, that it was a beautiful day, as loud as she could.
+
+"You've come to-day?" said Grandma.
+
+"Yes, I see you have, an' I'm obleeged to you, I'm sure, for it's mighty
+lonesome since that blessed little creeter, an' all the rest of them
+childern went away. Come in an' set down," and she led the way into the
+kitchen.
+
+Meanwhile, the hens, seeing nothing to prevent it, had employed the time in
+slipping in under Grandma's short gown, and were busily scratching around
+for any stray bits.
+
+"Thank you." The parson's wife nimbly found a chair, while Grandma bustled
+into the bedroom.
+
+"Excuse me a minute, Mis' Henderson," she called; "I'm goin' to slip on
+t'other cap."
+
+"Oh, don't take the trouble," said Mrs. Henderson's pleasant voice. But she
+might as well have said nothing, for Grandma didn't hear a word.
+
+"'Tain't proper to see your minister's wife in your mornin' cap, nor your
+petticoat neither for that matter," said Grandma to herself, looking down
+at her short gown. So she concluded to put on her Sunday-go-to-meeting
+gown, as she called her best dress. This took her so long, because she
+hooked it up wrong three times, that Mrs. Henderson appeared in the doorway
+before the operation of dressing-up could be said to be finished.
+
+"I'm very sorry," she began.
+
+"'Tain't a bit o' trouble," said Grandma cheerfully, pulling at the second
+hook, which she had been trying for some time to get into the first eye;
+"you set down, Mis' Henderson, an' I'll be out pretty soon."
+
+"I must go very soon." The parson's wife came quite close to say this, up
+under the frill of the best cap, which stood out very stiffly, as Grandma
+always kept it in a covered box on top of her high bureau.
+
+"Hey?"
+
+"I must go home soon. I have so many things to see to this afternoon."
+
+It was a fatally long speech, for Grandma only attended to the last part.
+
+"It's aft-noon? I know it. I'm comin' 's soon 's I can git this hooked
+up"--with another pull at the mismated hooks and eyes. Seeing this, in
+despair the parson's wife took the matter of hooking up into her own hands,
+and before long the Sunday-go-to-meeting gown could be said to be fairly
+on.
+
+"Now that's something like," observed Grandma, in great satisfaction. "I
+hain't been hooked up by any one since Mis' Pepper went away. Deary me, how
+I should set by a sight o' her, an' th' blessed little creeter--there ain't
+none other like that child."
+
+Mrs. Henderson nodded, being sparing of words.
+
+"I've some letters from them," she said loudly, "and if you come out to the
+kitchen, I will stay and read them to you."
+
+"What did you say was the matter in the kitchen?" demanded Grandma, in
+alarm. "Oh, them dirty hens, I s'pose, has got in again."
+
+"I have letters from the Pepper children, and they ask me to come over here
+and read them to you," shouted Mrs. Henderson. "Dear me!"--to
+herself--"what shall I do? I'm all tired out already, and three letters to
+read--she won't hear a word."
+
+But Grandma, having caught the word "letters," knew quite well what was in
+store, so, picking up her best gown by its side breadths, she waddled out
+and seated herself with great dignity in a big chair by the kitchen window.
+It was next to the little stand in whose drawer she used to let Joel Pepper
+look for peppermints.
+
+When the Pepper children shut up the little brown house to go to Mr.
+King's, Grandma moved the small mahogany stand from its place next to the
+head of her bed out into the kitchen. She kept her big Bible on it, and her
+knitting work, where she could "have 'em handy." And it made her feel less
+lonesome to look up from her work to see it standing there.
+
+"Seem's though that boy was a-comin' in every minute," she said. "My land
+o' Goshen, don't I wish he was!" for Grandma always had a soft spot in her
+heart for Joel.
+
+Now she smoothed down her front breadth, and folded her hands in a company
+way. The parson's wife drew up a kitchen chair close to her side and
+unfolded the first letter.
+
+"Who writ that?" asked Grandma eagerly.
+
+"That's from Polly," said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+"Bless her heart!" cried Grandma. "Well, what does she say?"
+
+"Ma"--a light-haired, serious boy appeared in the doorway--"Pa wants you,"
+he announced.
+
+"Oh, Peletiah!" exclaimed the parson's wife, in consternation, at his
+unlooked-for appearance, and, "Oh, Grandma!" in the same breath, "I'm so
+sorry I must go."
+
+"So sorry? What's ben a happenin' that Polly's sorry?" said Grandma,
+supposing that was in the letter. "Now I know that blessed little creeter
+has got hurt, an' they wouldn't let me know afore the rest."
+
+"It isn't in the letter," declared Mrs. Henderson, in a loud, hasty tone,
+hurrying out of her chair. "Peletiah, what does your father want, do you
+know?"
+
+"I don't know exactly," said Peletiah deliberately, "only Aunt Jerusha
+tumbled down the cellar stairs; maybe that's it."
+
+"Oh, dear me! dear me!" cried the parson's wife, in a great fright.
+"Peletiah, here are the letters from the Pepper children"--thrusting them
+into his hand--"do you stay and read them to Grandma. And be sure to tell
+her why I went home," and she actually ran out of the kitchen, and down the
+lilac-bordered path.
+
+Peletiah, left alone with the letters, turned them over and over in his
+hands, as he stood quite still in the middle of the kitchen floor. He never
+thought of disobeying, and presently he pulled up another chair, just in
+front of Grandma, and sat slowly down.
+
+"Oh, I know she's got hurted bad," she kept groaning, "an' I shan't never
+see her again. Oh, the pretty creeter! Hain't she hurted bad?" she asked
+anxiously, bringing her cap frills to bear on the boy in front.
+
+"Yes, I guess so," said Peletiah cheerfully; "she fell way down all over
+the cat sitting on the stairs."
+
+"Where'd you say she fell?" screamed Grandma.
+
+"Cellar stairs," Peletiah raised his voice, too, and sprawled out his hands
+to show how his Aunt Jerusha must have descended.
+
+"Oh, me! oh, my!" exclaimed Grandma, in great sorrow, "that blessed little
+creeter! to think she's fell and got hurted!"
+
+"She ain't little," said Peletiah, who was extremely literal, "she's awful
+long and bony!" And he could think of no special reason for calling her
+blessed, but that might be Grandma's fancy.
+
+"Well, read them letters," said Grandma mournfully, when she could control
+her speech enough to say anything; "maybe they'll tell more about the
+accident," and she put her hand again behind her best ear.
+
+"'Tain't in the letters," said Peletiah, "it's only just happened." But
+Grandma didn't hear, so he picked up Polly's letter, which was open, and
+began in a singsong tone:
+
+"'Dear Mrs. Henderson--'"
+
+"Hey?"
+
+"'Dear Mrs. Henderson,'" cried Peletiah, in a shrill, high key.
+
+"Do move up closer; I'm a little hard o' hearin'--jist a mite," said
+Grandma. So Peletiah shoved his chair nearer, and began again:
+
+"'Dear Mrs. Henderson, we are going to have the very loveliest thing
+happen, and I want to write to you now, because next week there won't be
+any time at all, we shall be so very busy.'"
+
+It was impossible to stop Peletiah until he had rounded a sentence, as he
+considered it his duty to pay strict attention to a period. So, although
+Grandma screamed, and even twitched his jacket sleeve, she couldn't get him
+to stop. The consequence was that he had to shout this over till at last
+she understood it, and then she turned a bewildered face upon him, but as
+he was deep in his second sentence, he didn't see it, but plodded patiently
+on.
+
+"'Grandpapa is going to let us have a garden party; there are tickets to be
+sold, for we are going to raise money to send poor children out into the
+country. And Jasper is getting up the post office, which Grandpapa says we
+may have in the Wistaria arbor. And we girls are all making fancy work,
+and oh, Phronsie is making a pin-cushion which Mr. Hamilton Dyce has bought
+already. Just think, and oh, I do believe we shall make lots and lots of
+money! Give my love to dear, dear Grandma Bascom, and please read this
+letter to her. From your loving little friend, Polly.'"
+
+Peletiah, considering it better to read this all as one sentence, had
+droned it out without a break, to look up and find Grandma sunken back
+against her chair, her cap frills trembling with indignation.
+
+"I hain't heard a single word," she said, "an' there's that blessed child
+got hurt, an' I can't seem to sense it at all."
+
+"She ain't hurt, Polly ain't," said Peletiah, stoutly defending himself.
+"They're going to have a garden party."
+
+"A what?" screamed Grandma.
+
+"A _garden_ party."
+
+"Oh, then she fell in the garding, an' you said cellar stairs," she cried
+reproachfully.
+
+Peletiah looked at her long; then he got out of his chair and leaned over
+her.
+
+"My Aunt Jerusha fell," he screamed, so loud that Grandma started.
+
+"Oh, an' the Pepper children ain't hurt?" she cried, in great relief.
+
+"No, they're going to have a party." He wisely left out the garden this
+time.
+
+"You don't say so!" exclaimed Grandma, greatly pleased at the hint of any
+festivities, no matter how distant, and the smiles began to run all over
+her wrinkled face again. "I wonder now," she said, "if they don't want my
+receet for Cousin Mirandy's weddin' cake; it's in th' Bible there"--nodding
+over to the little stand.
+
+Peletiah, seeing her so absorbed, waited patiently till the second letter
+was called for. He never for an instant thought of sliding off; so he
+pulled it out of its envelope, and got ready.
+
+At last Grandma pulled herself out of the charms of Cousin Mirandy's
+receet, and set her spectacles straight.
+
+"Who writ that one?" she asked.
+
+"Joel," said Peletiah, finding it quite to his liking to read this one, for
+Joel never wasted any time in preliminaries, but came to the point at once,
+in big, sprawly letters.
+
+"'Dear Misses Henderson.'" Somebody must have corrected him then, for he
+scratched out the "Misses," and wrote on top "Mrs." "'You tell Grandma
+Bascom, please, that it's just prime here, but I like her peppermints, too,
+and I won't chase her old hens when I come back. Joel.'"
+
+When Grandma really got this letter by heart, she laughed and said it had
+done her good, and she wished Joel was there this minute, in which Peletiah
+hardly concurred, being unable to satisfy Joel's athletic demands. And then
+she looked over at the little mahogany stand, and the tears rolled down her
+withered old cheeks.
+
+"I'd give anythin' to see him comin' in at that door, Peletiah," she said,
+"an' he may chase th' hens all he wants to when he comes back"; for Grandma
+always cherished the conviction that the "Five Little Peppers" were to make
+life merry again in their "little brown house," and she went on so long in
+this way that Peletiah, who had glanced up at the clock many times, said at
+last, in a stolid way, "There's another letter." And Grandma, looking down,
+saw a little wad in his hand.
+
+"Now I do believe that's from the blessed little creeter," she exclaimed,
+very much excited; "that must be Phronsie's."
+
+"Yes, it is," said Peletiah.
+
+"Why didn't you tell me that before?" cried Grandma. "You should 'a' read
+it first of all." She leaned forward in her chair, unable to lose a word.
+
+"You didn't tell me to," said Peletiah, in a matter-of-fact way.
+
+"Well, read it now," said Grandma, quavering with excitement.
+
+"There ain't nothin' to read," said Peletiah, unfolding the paper, many
+times creased.
+
+"Hey?"
+
+"There ain't nothin' to read," repeated Peletiah; "you can see for
+yourself." He held it up before her. There were many pencil marks going
+this way and that, by which Phronsie felt perfectly sure that her friends
+would understand what she was telling them. And once in a while came the
+great achievement of a big capital letter laboriously printed. But for
+these occasional slips into intelligible language, the letter presented a
+medium of communication peculiar to itself.
+
+"Ain't it sweet!" said Grandma admiringly, when she had looked it all over.
+"The little precious creeter, to think of her writin' that, and all by
+herself too!"
+
+"You can read it as well upside down," observed Peletiah.
+
+"I know it." Grandma beamed at him.
+
+"Just think of that child a-writin' that! Who'd ever b'lieve it?"
+
+"I must go now," announced Peletiah, getting out of his chair and beginning
+to stretch slowly.
+
+"Well, now tell your ma I thank her for comin', and for them letters from
+them precious childern. An' see here." Grandma leaned over and pulled out
+the under drawer of the little stand. It wasn't like giving peppermints to
+Joel Pepper, and it sent a pang through her at the remembrance, but
+Peletiah had been good to read those letters.
+
+"I'm a-goin' to give you these," she said, beginning to shake therefrom
+into her hand three big, white peppermints and two red ones.
+
+"No, I thank you, ma'am," said Peletiah stiffly, and standing quite still.
+
+"Yes, you take 'em," said Grandma decidedly. "You've been real good to read
+them letters. Here, Peletiah."
+
+"No, I thank you, ma'am," said Peletiah again, not offering to stir. "Well,
+I must be going," and he went slowly out of the kitchen, leaving Grandma
+with the big peppermints in her hand.
+
+That evening, after everything was quiet at the parsonage, the minister
+called his wife into the study.
+
+"We will look that letter over from Mrs. Fisher, now, my dear."
+
+Mrs. Henderson sat down on the end of the well-worn sofa.
+
+"Lie down, dear," he said, "and let me tuck a pillow under your head. You
+are all tired out."
+
+"Oh, husband, I am sure you are quite as tired as I am," and the color flew
+into her cheeks like a girl. But he had his way.
+
+"You better leave the door open"--as he went across the room to close
+it--"Jerusha may call."
+
+"Jerusha won't need us," he said, and shut it.
+
+"You know the doctor said she was not much hurt, only strained and bruised,
+and she's quite comfortable now. Well, my dear, now about this letter. Do
+you think we might take this child?"
+
+"We?" repeated his wife, with wide eyes. "Why, husband!"
+
+"I know it seems a somewhat peculiar thing to propose"--and the parson
+smiled--"with our two boys and Jerusha."
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Henderson, "it is, and I never thought seriously of it."
+
+"She won't do Peletiah any harm"--and then he laughed--"and she might
+brighten him up, if she's the girl Mrs. Fisher's letter indicates. And as
+for Ezekiel, there's no harm to be thought of in that quarter. Our boys
+aren't the ones, wife, to be influenced out of their orbits."
+
+"Well, there's Jerusha." Mrs. Henderson brought it out fearfully, and then
+shut her mouth as if she wished she hadn't said anything.
+
+"I know, dear. You needn't be afraid to speak it out. It is always on my
+mind. Oh, I do wish--" and the parson began to pace the floor with troubled
+steps.
+
+His wife threw back the old sofa-blanket with which he had tucked her up,
+and bounded to his side, passing her hand within his arm.
+
+"Don't, dear," she begged. "Oh, why did I speak!" she cried remorsefully.
+
+"You said no more than what is always on my mind," said the minister again,
+and he pressed the hand on his arm, looking at it fondly. "Poor Almira!" he
+said, "I didn't think how hard you would have to work to please her, when I
+took her here."
+
+"But you couldn't help it, husband," she cried, looking up at him with a
+world of love. "After your mother died, what place was there for her to go?
+And she really was good to her."
+
+"Yes," said the minister, and he sighed. "Well, it's done, and she is here;
+but oh, Almira, I think it's made a great difference with our boys."
+
+Mrs. Henderson's cheek paled, but it wouldn't do to let him see her
+thoughts further on the subject, he was so worn and tired, so she said:
+
+"Well, about the little girl, husband?"
+
+"Yes, Mrs. Fisher's letter must be answered," said the parson, pulling
+himself out of his revery. "She asks if we can find a place in Badgertown
+for this child, who seems uncommonly clever, and is, so she writes, very
+truthful. And I'm sure, Almira, if Mrs. Fisher says so, the last word has
+been spoken."
+
+"Yes, indeed," said his wife heartily.
+
+"And they've found out a great deal about her. She's been half starved and
+cruelly beaten."
+
+The parson's wife hid her tender eyes on her husband's coat sleeve.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" she exclaimed sympathetically.
+
+"And the old woman who pretended to be her grandmother, and who beat her
+because she wouldn't steal, became frightened at the investigation, and has
+cleared out, so there is no one to lay a claim to 'Rag.'"
+
+"To whom?" asked Mrs. Henderson, raising her head suddenly.
+
+"Rag--that's the only name the child says she has. But Mrs. Fisher writes
+they call her Rachel now. You didn't notice that when you read the letter,
+did you, Almira?"
+
+"No," said his wife, "I didn't have time to read more than part of it.
+Don't you remember, I hurried over to Grandma Bascom's with the little
+Pepper letters, and you said you'd talk it over with me when I got home?
+And then Peletiah came after me, and I ran back here to poor Jerusha."
+
+"Oh, I remember. I shouldn't have asked you." He nodded remorsefully.
+"Well, then, I'll tell you the rest. You read the first part--how they ran
+across the girl, and all that?"
+
+"Yes. Oh, dear me! it gives me a shiver now to think what an awful risk
+that blessed child, Phronsie, ran," cried Mrs. Henderson.
+
+"I know it; I cannot bear to think of it even in the light of her safety,"
+said Mr. Henderson. "Well, now, Mr. King has taken upon himself to support
+and to educate Rag--Rachel, I mean--and the best place, at first, at any
+rate, to put her is Badgertown. Now what do you say, Almira, to her coming
+here to us?"
+
+The parson's wife hesitated, then said, "Jerusha--" and paused.
+
+"Will she be made unhappy by Jerusha, you mean?" asked the parson.
+
+"Yes."
+
+"No, I don't believe she will," he said decidedly. "You must remember she
+has had her old 'Gran' as she calls her, and after that I think she can
+bear Jerusha."
+
+"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Henderson, "I forgot. Then I say, husband, we will
+take this child. I should really love to put the brightness into her life.
+And please let her come soon." A pretty glow rushed up to her cheek, and
+the parson's wife actually laughed at the prospect.
+
+
+
+
+VII
+
+THE DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+
+"Will it stop, Grandpapa?" Phronsie, kneeling on a chair, her face pressed
+close to the window pane, turned to old Mr. King, looking over her
+shoulder.
+
+"I'm afraid not, dear," he answered.
+
+"Doesn't God know we want to help the poor children?" she asked suddenly, a
+surprised look coming into her eyes.
+
+"Yes, yes, dear; of course he knows, child."
+
+"Then why does he let it rain?" cried Phronsie, in a hurt voice.
+
+"Oh, because, Pet, we must have rain, else the flowers wouldn't grow, you
+know."
+
+"They're all grown," said Phronsie, trying to peer out into the thick
+twilight between the great splashes of rain running down the window over
+toward the garden, "and now we can't have our party to-morrow, Grandpapa,"
+she added sorrowfully.
+
+"No, it would be quite too wet, after this downpour, even if it cleared
+to-night," said the old gentleman decidedly. "Well, Phronsie, child, we
+must just accept the matter philosophically."
+
+"What's philo--that big word, Grandpapa?" she asked, turning away from her
+effort to catch sight of the flower-beds, off in the distance, gay with the
+wealth of blooms saved for the hoped-for festivities of the morrow, and she
+put her arm around his neck.
+
+"Oh, that? It was a pretty large word to use to you, and that's a fact,"
+said the old gentleman, with a little laugh. He was having rather a hard
+time of it to conceal his dismay at the blow to all the plans and
+preparations so finely in progress for the garden party. "Well, it means we
+must make the best of it all, and not fret."
+
+"Oh!" said Phronsie. Then she turned back to her window again, and surveyed
+the driving storm.
+
+"Perhaps the flowers like it," she said, after a pause, when nothing was
+heard but the beating of the rain against the glass; "maybe they are
+thirsty, Grandpapa."
+
+"Yes, maybe," assented Grandpapa absently.
+
+"And if God wants it to rain, why we must be glad, mustn't we, Grandpapa,
+if he really wants it?"
+
+"Yes, yes, child," said the old gentleman hastily.
+
+"Then I'm glad," said Phronsie, with a long sigh, and she clambered down
+from her chair, "and let's find Polly and tell her so, Grandpapa."
+
+Over in the library there was a dismal group. Joel was fighting valiantly
+with a flood of tears, doubling up his little fists and glaring at Percy
+and Van at the least intimation of a remark to him. Little Davie had
+succumbed long ago, and now, crammed up in a small heap in the corner back
+of the sofa, was rivaling the storm outside, in the flood of tears he
+supplied.
+
+Jasper crowded his hands in his pockets, marching up and down the long
+room. Polly, who was swallowing hard, as if her throat hurt her, wouldn't
+look at one of the boys. Little Dick was openly wailing in his mother's
+arms.
+
+"Oh, shut up that, kid, will you?" cried Percy, crossly, over at him.
+
+"Percy, Percy," said his mother gently.
+
+"Well, he needn't boo-hoo like a baby," said Percy; "we've all got to give
+up the garden party."
+
+"We can't have any garden party," mumbled little Dick between his sobs, and
+crying all over his mother's pretty blue silk waist.
+
+"There, there, dear," Mrs. Whitney said soothingly, "we'll have it the next
+day, perhaps, Dicky boy."
+
+"Next day is just forever," whimpered little Dick. "Oh, dear! boo-hoo-hoo!"
+
+Percy started an impatient exclamation, thought better of it, and turned on
+his heel abruptly. But Van burst out:
+
+"And the flowers'll all be gone, so what's the use of trying to have it
+then?"
+
+"They won't," cried Joel, in an angry scream, and squaring round at him.
+"They shan't, so there, Van Whitney!" When the door opened and in walked
+Mr. King, and Phronsie clinging to his hand.
+
+"Oh, hush, boys!" cried Polly hoarsely, a wave of shame rising in a rosy
+flush up to her brow. Oh, why hadn't she tried to keep cheerful instead of
+giving way to the general gloom? And now here were Phronsie and dear
+Grandpapa, who had ordered "just oceans of flowers" and everything else.
+Oh, dear, how naughty she had been! She sprang away from the big, carved
+table, over to take Phronsie's hand.
+
+"The flowers are thirsty, Polly, I guess," said Phronsie, looking up at her
+with a smile; "and when they drink all they want to, why, we'll have the
+party, won't we, Polly?"
+
+"Yes," said Polly, the flush not dying down.
+
+"Then that'll be nice, I think," said Phronsie, smoothing down her gown in
+satisfaction, "and I can finish my cushion-pin now"; for there was one
+little corner still untraveled by the remarkable design observed by the
+worker. But Mr. Hamilton Dyce had protested he didn't care for any such
+trifling deficiency, for he could put more pins in that quarter, so he
+should still be its purchaser.
+
+"So you can," cried Polly, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, and
+winking furiously over at the boys.
+
+"And we can write more letters," cried Jasper suddenly, springing over to
+Phronsie's side.
+
+"Phoo!" exclaimed Joel, "we've got bushels already."
+
+"Well, it's nice to have more yet," retorted Jasper, "so you better keep
+still, old fellow."
+
+"I shall write some more," announced Van, with great pomposity, strutting
+up and down the room.
+
+"Hoh-hoh!" laughed Joel, snapping his fingers in derision, "you haven't
+finished one yet, and beside, who can read your chicken tracks?"
+
+"I have, too," declared Van, very red in the face, ignoring the reflection
+on his writing and plunging over to Jasper. "Haven't I, Jasper, written a
+letter for the post office? Say, haven't I?"--gripping him by the
+jacket-sleeve.
+
+"Yes, you have," said Jasper. "He handed it in this afternoon," he added,
+nodding to the group.
+
+"There, you see." Van rushed triumphantly up in front of Joel. "You see,
+Joel Pepper, so you've just got to take that back."
+
+"Well, only one," said Joel, "and there can't any one read it, so that's no
+good."
+
+"And I wrote some letters," cried Phronsie, running away from the little
+circle to thrust her face in between the two boys. "I did, all by myself.
+One, two, ten, I guess."
+
+Little Dick at that stopped sniveling, and slipped off from his mother's
+lap. "I did, too, write some, ten, three, 'leven, just as many as you did."
+The tears trailed off from his red cheeks as he bobbed his head
+emphatically.
+
+So no one heard quick steps along the hall, and the door being thrown wide
+by the butler, saying, "They're all in the library." In came Miss Mary
+Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce.
+
+"We thought we'd drop in," said the gentleman, with a quick glance at Miss
+Mary, as if to say, "You see, they didn't need us after all, to help cheer
+up."
+
+"Why, how very jolly you all are!" observed Miss Mary. The rain-drops were
+glistening on her hair and cheeks, where she had scampered away from the
+protecting umbrella at the foot of the steps. "Oh, I'm not wet, Mrs.
+Fisher"--Mother Fisher at this moment coming in with her mending basket.
+"I left my mackintosh in the hall."
+
+"Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Hamilton Dyce. Joel had left sparring with Van
+and now swarmed around the newcomer, for he was extremely fond of him. "How
+are the letters coming on, Jasper? By the way, I've a few belated ones, in
+the pockets in my coat out in the hall. I'll get them."
+
+"Let me--let me," screamed Joel.
+
+"All right, go ahead. In both side pockets, Joe." He didn't consider it
+necessary to explain that Miss Taylor and he had been busy driving their
+pens all the afternoon.
+
+"Whickets!" cried Joel, rushing back, both hands overflowing, "what a lot!"
+
+"Joel, what did you say?" Mother Fisher glanced up, the lines of worry that
+had settled over her face at the terrible disappointment that had befallen
+the family, disappearing, now that the usual cheeriness was coming back.
+
+"I didn't mean to," said Joel, the color all over his chubby face, "but my,
+see what a lot! The post office won't hold 'em all!"
+
+"We'll put them with the others," cried Jasper, "and thank you, oh, so
+much, Mr. Dyce; we can't have too many. Come on, all of you, and see our
+pile"--running out into the hall, headed for his den.
+
+"You must thank Miss Mary," said Mr. Dyce.
+
+But Miss Mary laughingly protesting the gratitude was not so much due to
+her, the whole company filed out after Jasper in great good spirits.
+
+Little Davie, back of the sofa, poked up his head.
+
+"Are they all gone, Mamsie?" he asked fearfully.
+
+"Why, Davie, my boy!" exclaimed Mother Fisher, much startled, and laying
+down her needle, stuck in a stocking-heel, "I thought you were upstairs
+with Ben."
+
+"I haven't been with Ben." said David, working his way out, to run and lay
+his swollen little face in his mother's lap. She cleared away her work, and
+took him up, to gather him close in her arms.
+
+"There, there, Davie, mother's boy, it's all right"--smoothing the hair
+away from the hot brow--"we can have the garden party another day, and
+then perhaps there'll be all the more pleasure and good time."
+
+"Tisn't that," said little Davie, wriggling around to look up at her, "but
+Polly--" and for a moment it seemed as if the floods were to descend again.
+
+"Oh, Polly is all right," said Mrs. Fisher cheerfully.
+
+"Is, she, Mamsie?" asked David doubtfully.
+
+"Yes, indeed, and you must see that you keep yourself right. That's all any
+of us can do," said Mother Fisher. "Now, Davie, my boy, hop down and run
+into Jasper's den with the others."
+
+"Oh, I can't, Mamsie," protested Davie, in horror, and burrowing in her
+arms, "they'll see I've been crying."
+
+"That's the trouble with crying," observed Mother Fisher wisely; "it makes
+you twice sorry--once when you're doing it, and the next time when it
+shows. You can't help it now, Davie, so run along. Mother wants you to."
+
+If Mother wanted them to, that was always enough for each of the "Five
+Little Peppers," so Davie slid slowly down from her lap, and went out and
+down the hall.
+
+Meantime Miss Mary had taken Polly's arm in the procession to Jasper's den.
+
+"Oh, Polly, how cheery you have made them!" she exclaimed. "We expected to
+see you all perhaps drowned in tears."
+
+"Oh, I haven't done it--anything to make them happy," cried Polly, the wave
+of color again flooding her cheeks; "indeed I haven't, Miss Mary. I've been
+bad and wicked and horrid," she said penitently, her head drooping.
+
+"Oh, no, Polly," protested Miss Mary, her arm around Polly's waist.
+
+"Yes I have, Miss Mary, I----"
+
+"Well, don't let us talk now about it; we will look at the letters." Miss
+Mary drew her within the den. There stood Jasper behind the table perfectly
+overflowing with epistles of every sort and size, while little packages,
+and some not so very little, either, filled up all the receptacles possible
+for mail matter.
+
+"Oh, my, what a lot!" exclaimed everybody, as Joel with a dash precipitated
+his handfuls on the already long-suffering pile.
+
+"This is only the beginning," laughed Jasper, waving his arms over, to
+compass the whole den. "Just look on the top of the bookcase, will you?"
+
+Everybody whirled around.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Grandpapa, at the sight. Letters were scattered
+here and there in the thickest of piles all along the surface, while the
+Chinese vase had a whole handful poking up their faces as if to say, "Here
+we are, all the way from China."
+
+"Dear me," exclaimed old Mr. King again, "when do you ever expect to sell
+all those, Jasper?"
+
+"Mine is in there," announced Phronsie, hanging to his hand and pointing to
+the vase. "Grandpapa, it really is; Japser put it there."
+
+"Did he, Pet?" cried the old gentleman, immensely interested.
+
+"Yes, he did truly," said Phronsie, bobbing her head emphatically. "I saw
+him my own self, Grandpapa. _And it's to you_." She stood on her
+tiptoes and whispered the last bit of information.
+
+"No, is it?" cried Grandpapa, highly gratified; and, lifting her up to a
+level with his face, he kissed her on both cheeks. "Now, Phronsie, I shall
+always keep that letter," he said, as he set her down.
+
+"Shall you?" cried Phronsie, smoothing her gown with great satisfaction.
+"Then I'm so glad I wrote it, Grandpapa."
+
+Over by the table Jasper was saying to Polly:
+
+"Now what shall we do with this dreadfully long evening? Do hurry and
+think, Polly, before everybody gets dismal again."
+
+"Oh, I don't know," said Polly, at her wit's end.
+
+"But we must think of something," said Jasper desperately, and fumbling the
+letters.
+
+Polly's eye fell on his restless fingers.
+
+"We might sort them out, the letters, and tie them up in little packages to
+take out to the post office."
+
+"The very thing!" cried Jasper enthusiastically. "Here, all you good
+people"--he whirled around--"if you want to help, please sit down, and
+we'll get this mess of letters sorted and tied up into bundles." He waved
+his hands over his head, and of course everybody stopped talking at once.
+
+"Oh, whickets!" Joel screamed; then he caught Polly's eye, and his chubby
+face took on a lively red. "Let me--let me!" He crammed himself in between
+Jasper and the table.
+
+"Hold on!" commanded Jasper, "not so fast, Joe," and he seized Joel's brown
+hands just grabbing a big pile.
+
+"Wait till Jasper tells us how to begin," said Polly, her brown eyes
+dancing at the prospect of something to do.
+
+"Oh, dear!" whimpered Joel, stamping in his impatience. The Whitney boys
+were crowding up close behind. "Do hurry up, Jasper," they teased.
+
+"Well, how shall we begin, Polly?" Jasper wrinkled up his brows in
+perplexity.
+
+"Let's ask Miss Mary," said Polly. So Jasper called, "Miss Mary!" but she
+didn't seem to hear, which perhaps wasn't so very strange, after all, as
+Mr. Dyce was telling her something which must have been very interesting,
+over in the corner. When at last the summons reached her, she came hurrying
+over with very pink cheeks. "Oh, what can I do to help?"
+
+"We've been calling and calling for ever so long," said Joel, in a very
+injured tone, for he had added his voice when he saw that things were
+waiting for Miss Taylor.
+
+"Oh, have you, Joel? That's too bad." Miss Mary's cheeks became pinker than
+ever.
+
+"Well, you are always screaming over something, Joe, you beggar"--Mr. Dyce
+pulled his ear--"so it's no wonder that your cries are not attended to on
+the instant."
+
+When Miss Mary saw what was wanted of her, she proposed that Jasper give
+out twelve letters to each person, who should tie them up neatly, and put
+in a big basket. Then they would be ready to take out to the post office in
+the Wistaria arbor, and to be sorted into the little boxes which Grandpapa
+had commissioned the carpenter to make all up and down the sides, leaving
+one end free for the delivery window. The door for the postmaster and his
+assistants was to be at the opposite corner.
+
+"Oh, yes, how nice!" exclaimed Polly, hopping up and down as ecstatically
+as Phronsie ever did. "Jasper, I'll get a ball of twine," and she was
+flying off.
+
+"No, you stay here and help me give out the letters," said Jasper.
+
+"Oh, I want to do that," cried Joel, squeezing and crowding.
+
+"No, you must get the big basket," said Jasper. "Go and ask Thomas to give
+you one."
+
+"I don't want to get an old basket," whined Joel; "let Percy get it."
+
+"Hoh! I'm not going to," declared Percy, drawing himself up in great state.
+
+"Then I will go myself," said Jasper, flinging down a handful of letters,
+to hurry off.
+
+"Joel," said Polly, in a sorry little voice, and turning away from the
+table, "now you will spoil everything, and we've just got to feeling good.
+How can you, Joey!"
+
+"I didn't mean--" began Joel, turning his back on her, while he winked very
+hard, "I didn't mean to, Polly."
+
+Percy dug the toe of his shoe into the rug, and looked down on the floor.
+
+"Then run after Jasper," cried Polly; "hurry, and tell him so."
+
+"I will," cried Joel, plunging off, and Percy, being left alone, as Van had
+slid away to another group when he saw how things were going on, concluded
+to follow. And presently Jasper came back.
+
+"It's all right, Polly," he nodded brightly to her, and they fell to work.
+
+And in a minute or two, Joel came back with Percy, carrying the basket, a
+big market affair, between them. And when he saw what fun they were having
+over it, for they were both laughing merrily, Van wished he had gone.
+
+And seeing his dismal face, Jasper sent him after a ball of twine. And then
+Phronsie wanted to get something, and little Dick teased to go too, so
+Grandpapa suggested they should go after some extra pairs of scissors.
+
+"And Mamsie will let us take hers out of her workbasket, I guess," cried
+Phronsie. "Let us ask her, Grandpapa dear."
+
+"Oh, you better stop working, Mrs. Fisher." Old Mr. King popped his white
+head in at the library door. There sat Mother Fisher by the table, mending
+away as usual, for the stockings never seemed to be quite done. "And come
+into Jasper's den and see how fine we all are!" he added gayly.
+
+"Yes, Mamsie, do come," chirped Phronsie, running her head in between him
+and the door-casing to plead.
+
+"Yes, Mamsie, do come," echoed little Dick, who would do and say everything
+that Phronsie did.
+
+"You see, you've simply got to come," laughed Grandpapa.
+
+"And may we have your scissors, Mamsie?" Phronsie now deserted old Mr.
+King, to run over to the big workbasket.
+
+"My scissors?" repeated Mother Fisher. "Why, Phronsie, child, what are you
+going to do with them?"
+
+"We're going to cut letters," said Phronsie, with an important air, her
+fingers already in the basket, which, standing on tiptoe, she had pulled
+quickly over toward her in her eagerness. "And may we have your scissors,
+Mamsie?"
+
+"Take care," warned Mother Fisher, but too late. Over went the big basket,
+and away rattled all the things, having a perfectly beautiful time by
+themselves over the library floor,
+
+"Bless me!" ejaculated old Mr. King, while little Dick laughed right out.
+
+Phronsie stood quite still, the color all out of her round cheeks. Then her
+bosom heaved, and she darted over to lay her head in Mother Fisher's lap.
+
+"Oh, I didn't mean to, Mamsie," she wailed.
+
+"Oh, deary me! bless me!" exclaimed Grandpapa, in the greatest
+consternation, and leaning over the two.
+
+"There, there, don't mind it, deary." Mother Fisher was smoothing the
+yellow hair.
+
+"Take me, Mamsie," begged Phronsie, holding up both hands, and she burrowed
+her face deeper yet in Mrs. Fisher's lap.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" old Mr. King kept exclaiming. Then he pulled out his
+handkerchief and mopped his face violently. This not making him feel any
+better, he kept exclaiming, "Oh, dear me!" at intervals.
+
+"I'll pick 'em up," said little Dick cheerfully, beginning to race after
+the spools and things over the floor.
+
+Mother Fisher had drawn Phronsie up to her bosom, where she cuddled her to
+her heart's content. "Now, child," she said, after a minute, "I think you
+ought to help to pick up the things and put them in the basket. See how
+nicely Dicky is doing it."
+
+"I'm getting all the spools," announced Dick, jamming all the chairs aside
+that he could move, and lifting a very hot face. "Yes, sir-ee! Come,
+Phronsie."
+
+"I think you ought to help him, Phronsie."
+
+So Phronsie slipped out of her mother's lap obediently, and wiped off her
+tears.
+
+"Come on," said little Dick, in great glee. "I'm going under the table;
+there's a lot under there."
+
+And in shorter time than it takes to tell it, the spools, and mending
+cotton, and tape measure, and, dear me! the ever-so-many things of which
+Mrs. Fisher's big workbasket was always full, were all collected from the
+nice time they were having on the floor, and snugly set up in their places
+again. And Mother Fisher, escorted by the children and old Mr. King, who by
+this time was laughing quite gayly once more, was going out into the hall,
+on the way to Jasper's den. And Phronsie had the big cutting-out shears,
+and little Dick the smaller, little snipping-thread scissors.
+
+"Hullo!" Mr. King called out, as the butler ushered into the hall two
+gentlemen, in dripping mackintoshes. "Now that's fine, Cabot and Alstyne,
+to drop in of this dismal evening."
+
+"We've called to condole with you all," said both gentlemen, as they were
+divested of their wet garments, "but it doesn't seem as if our services
+were needed"--with a glance at Grandpapa and his group.
+
+"Oh, my family gets over any little disappointment such as bad weather,"
+observed the old gentleman, with pride. "Well, come this way, the principal
+object of interest is in Jasper's den; no need to announce it"--as the
+peals of laughter and chatter sounded down the long hall.
+
+
+
+
+VIII
+
+THE GARDEN PARTY
+
+
+And so, after all, it turned out to be the very best thing that the garden
+party did not take place until two days after, for all was then as sweet
+and fresh as a rose--all but one thing. And that was, on the very morning
+of the eventful day, Mrs. Chatterton drove up.
+
+But then, as Jasper observed to Polly when this dire news was announced,
+"Cousin Eunice was always turning up when least wanted." And Polly had, as
+usual, to keep back her own thoughts on the subject, to comfort him. It
+would never do to add to his dismay.
+
+"Why she can't stay in Europe when she's everlastingly saying that there is
+no place in America to compare with it, I don't, for my part, see," he
+cried, in a pet.
+
+"I suppose she wants to be with her relations, Jasper," said Polly, with a
+sigh.
+
+"Relations?"--Jasper turned suddenly on his heel and thrust his hands
+deeply in his pockets--"well, she fights with every single one of them,"
+he said savagely.
+
+"Oh, Jasper--fights!" exclaimed Polly, in horror, whose great grief had
+always been at having no relations, so to speak. "Dear me, how very
+dreadful!"
+
+"Well, you know she does," said Jasper gloomily, and squaring
+round--"always picking and carping at something or somebody; and now Father
+will be all upset by her. If she had only waited till to-morrow!"
+
+Polly felt such a dreadful sinking of her heart just then, that for a
+minute she didn't speak. There didn't seem to be any comfort for this.
+
+"And just think how good Father has been," went on Jasper, too miserable to
+keep still, "and all those flowers he had ordered, for of course he
+couldn't let the florists suffer, and that he sent to the hospitals when it
+poured so."
+
+"I know it," said Polly, swallowing hard.
+
+"And now he has ordered another lot, and everything else--why, you know,
+Polly, there isn't anything Father hasn't done to make this fair a success,
+and now she has come!" Jasper flung himself into a chair and buried his
+face in his hands.
+
+"Oh, Jasper," cried Polly, running over to him in the greatest distress,
+"don't! Oh, dear me! What can we do?"
+
+"Nothing," said Jasper, in the depths of gloom; "nothing will do any good
+so long as she has come."
+
+"Oh, there must something be done," declared Polly quite wildly, and
+feeling equal to anything. If she only knew what would avail! "_Hush,
+here comes Grandpapa!_"
+
+"Oh, he mustn't see us feeling badly." Jasper sprang from his chair. "Come,
+Polly," and they flew out into the side hall.
+
+"Now where are those two, Polly and Jasper?" said old Mr. King to himself,
+coming to the library in a great state of irritation. "I've searched this
+house for them, and nobody seems to have the least idea where they have
+gone. Polly! Jasper!" he cried loudly, and it wasn't a very pleasant voice,
+either.
+
+"Oh, dear!" Jasper seized Polly's hands in a corner of the hall. "He's
+calling us, and we've got to go, Polly, and how we look, you and I!
+Whatever shall we do!"
+
+"But we must go," breathed Polly. Then she looked up into Jasper's face.
+"Let's ask him to go out and help us fix the flowers," she cried suddenly.
+
+Jasper gave her a keen glance. "All right," he said. "Come on," and before
+their resolution had time to cool itself, they rushed into the library.
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa," they both cried together, "do come out and tell us how to
+fix the flowers."
+
+"Hey?" The old gentleman whirled around from the table, where he had begun
+to throw the papers about. "Did you know Mrs. Chatterton had come back?" He
+glared at them over his spectacles, which he had forgotten to remove when
+he had been interrupted with the unwelcome news while peacefully reading
+the morning paper.
+
+"Yes--oh, yes," said Jasper.
+
+"Oh, yes, we know it," cried Polly cheerfully, "but, Grandpapa, we want
+you"--tugging at his hand.
+
+"Hey? you knew it?" The old gentleman's tone softened, and he suffered
+himself to be led toward the door. "And you want me, eh?"--feeling with
+every step as if life, after all, might be worth living.
+
+"Yes, we do indeed, Father," cried Jasper affectionately, possessing
+himself of the other hand.
+
+"And oh, the flowers you sent are just too lovely for anything!" cried
+Polly, dancing away along by his side. "They're gorgeous, Grandpapa dear."
+
+"Are they so?" Grandpapa beamed at her, all his happiness returned. "So you
+want me to tell you how to arrange them, eh?" And his satisfaction in being
+appealed to was so intense that he held his head high. "Well, come on," and
+he laughed gayly.
+
+Mrs. Chatterton, newly arrived in the handsome suite of apartments Cousin
+Horatio's hospitality always allowed her, looked out of the window, and,
+having no one else to confide her opinions to, was not averse to chatting
+with her French maid.
+
+"Isn't it perfectly absurd, Hortense, to see that old man?--and to think
+how particular and aristocratic he used to be! Why, I can remember when he
+would hardly let Jasper speak to him in some of his moods, and now just see
+that beggar girl actually holding his hand, and he laughing with her."
+
+"A beggaire, is it?" cried Hortense, dropping the gown she was brushing, to
+run to the window. "I see no beggaire, madame"--craning her neck.
+
+"You needn't drop your work," said Mrs. Chatterton, with asperity, "just
+because I made a simple remark. You know quite well whom I mean, Hortense.
+It's that Polly Pepper I'm speaking of."
+
+"She is not a beggaire, madame," declared Hortense pertly, opening her
+black eyes very wide. "Oh!" She extended her hands and burst into a series
+of shrill cackles. "Why, she's like all de oder children in dis house, and
+I think truly, madame, de best."
+
+"Go back to your work, I say," commanded Mrs. Chatterton, in a fury,
+forgetting herself enough to stamp her foot. So Hortense picked up the
+gown, but she continued to cackle softly to herself, with now and then a
+furtive glance at her mistress.
+
+Outside, with all the sunny influence of the summer morning upon him, old
+Mr. King, and Polly, and Jasper went about, superintending the placing of
+the flowers. For there seemed to be a great many in the pots, with ferns
+and palms, to distribute where they would best show off and be persuaded to
+swell the poor children's fund,
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa dear! what richness!" sighed Polly, clasping her hands in
+ecstasy. "I do think I never saw so many, and such beauties. Only look,
+Jasper, at that azalea!"
+
+"I know it," said Jasper, his eyes sparkling, "and those orchids, Polly!"
+
+"Oh, I know--I know," said Polly, spinning about to take it all in. Old Mr.
+King put back his head and laughed to see her.
+
+"I'm so glad you like it, Polly, my girl," he said, heartily pleased.
+
+"Like it, Grandpapa!" repeated Polly, standing quite still. "Oh, it's just
+too beautiful!" and she clasped her hands tightly together.
+
+"Well, I think we'd best get to work," said Jasper, bursting into a laugh.
+"Come on, Polly, let's set about it."
+
+"I think so, too," said Polly, coming out of her rapture. Thereupon ensued
+such a busy time!--especially as old Turner and two of his under-gardeners
+came up for directions, and Mr. King went off with them. So for the next
+hour Polly seemed to be on wings, here, there, and everywhere, and
+breathing only the sweet fragrance of the flowers.
+
+"How Phronsie would enjoy it--the fixing and all!" she mourned, in the
+midst of it, as the transforming of the flower-tables into veritable bowers
+of beauty went on.
+
+"But you know she had to take a long nap, else she would be all tired out.
+And the afternoon is going to be a long one, Polly."
+
+"Oh, I know," said Polly, flying on with her work faster than ever, "and
+Mamsie was right to make her go to sleep."
+
+"Mrs. Fisher is always right," said Jasper decidedly, "ever and always."
+
+"Isn't she!" cried Polly, in a glow. "Well, Jasper, do you think that
+smilax ought to be trained up there?" She twisted her head to view the
+effect, and looked up at him anxiously.
+
+"Yes--no," said Jasper critically; "I don't believe I'd put it there. It
+looks too much, Polly; there are so many vines about."
+
+"So it does," said Polly, in great relief. "Heigh-ho! when one is working
+over any thing it looks so different, doesn't it?"
+
+"I should say so," cried Jasper. "Oh, Polly, it can't ever in all this
+world be twelve o'clock."
+
+"It can't!" exclaimed Polly, in dismay. But there was one of the
+white-capped maids coming across the lawn, with the summons to go in to
+luncheon, which was to be served at an earlier hour than usual.
+
+And after that, no one had more than a moment in which to think, for at
+three o'clock the garden party was to open, and the fair to be in full
+progress.
+
+Long before that time, the avenues and streets leading out to the Horatio
+King estate were thronged with children of all ages and sizes; most of them
+with their nurse-maids, all bound to the scene of the garden party, their
+small purses dangling by chains from their arms, or carried carefully in
+their hands. For wasn't this to help poor children who didn't have any
+pleasant homes, but lived in stuffy tenement houses, to go out into the
+broad, beautiful country, where they could race in the fields and play with
+the chickens, and pick all the flowers they wanted to? And so, ever since
+the announcement had been made that such a fund was to be raised, there had
+been much hoarding of pennies, and no slight self-denial on the part of the
+younger element, who would naturally be drawn into the plan.
+
+All the society people were to drive up later; and until the early evening
+hours it was to be the function of the town, which every one was anxious to
+attend. But everybody in Mr. King's household was to be ready to receive,
+exactly at three o'clock.
+
+Phronsie was in the highest of spirits, having Grandpapa's hand to cling
+to, trying to welcome all the guests, and keeping one eye out to see that
+Rachel was enjoying herself, attired in a pretty, pink cambric gown, her
+black hair--which now seemed, oh, so soft and pretty!--tied back with
+little pink bows. And Rachel's eyes--well, there! no one would ever have
+suspected that they had only been accustomed to the squalor of Gran's
+apartment, and Gran herself, but one short week ago. They now looked on the
+world in general, and this fair scene in particular, with all the
+nonchalance of one born and brought up in the midst of such conditions as
+could bring about a state of affairs like the present that surrounded her.
+And many asked, "Who is that child?" for it was clearly seen that she
+wasn't of the set that was thronging the grounds.
+
+Rachel herself was wholly unconscious of the remarks that were being made,
+so she devoted her heart and soul to the duty assigned to her, that of
+waiting on Polly and her bevy of school friends in one of the
+flower-bowers. And she never bothered about any curious glances, or asides,
+until a chance remark struck her ear as she was hurrying across the lawn,
+which she thought needed attention; then she raised her head, and her black
+eyes grew sharp and intent. It was Mrs. Chatterton who was speaking.
+
+"Yes, it's a little beggar girl he took in," and the cackle was unpleasant
+that accompanied the words. "Dear me! I expect she'll rob us all; such
+creatures are so sly." She was pointing out Rachel to one of her friends
+lately arrived from Europe, and who had exerted herself to come early and
+see the children.
+
+"Do you mean me?" demanded Rachel, her black eyes, like gimlets, on the
+long, cynical face. "'Cause if you does, I can tell you that what I does, I
+does right out on top; an' I guess by the looks o' you, that ain't your
+style."
+
+"You impertinent creature!" exclaimed Mrs. Chatterton, her long face
+crimson with passion, not allayed by seeing that her friend could with
+difficulty control her amusement. "She'll tell this everywhere," she fumed
+within. "I shall go and speak to my cousin, Mr. King, about you, girl." She
+moved her arm and shapely hand, both very beautiful still, and well
+exhibited on every occasion, and started off with great dignity.
+
+"I would," said Rachel scornfully. Then she laughed, "Oh, me! oh, my!
+you're such a favor_ite_, you are!" and she doubled up her thin
+figure, and went off in a little gust of merriment.
+
+"Come with me." Mrs. Chatterton darted back and seized her friend's arm to
+drag her away. "That detestable creature makes me feel quite faint."
+
+As soon as they had disappeared down a winding path, Rachel's amusement
+quite left her. She drew herself up stiffly, and hurried back to Polly, to
+be the same quiet, attentive, deft little maiden as before.
+
+"You do tie flowers up so beautifully," cried Polly, handing her another
+big spool of baby ribbon. "Doesn't she, girls?"
+
+"Yes, indeed," cried ever so many.
+
+"I can't tie a bow to save myself," declared Alexia; "it all snarls up, and
+it looks for all the world, when I get through, as if my dog had chewed it.
+Oh, dear me! Yes, that basket is two dollars."
+
+"I'll take it," said the little tot who had to stand on tiptoes to peer
+over the table with its blooming beauty. "I want it for my mamma," and he
+gave his smart little cane to the nursemaid to hold, while he opened his
+purse.
+
+"Well, it's a beauty, Rick," said Alexia, picking up the basket; "the
+violets are so sweet," and she sniffed them two or three times as she
+passed them over.
+
+"Here's Rick Halliday," called Clem, at the other end of the table. "Now
+I'm going to make him buy something of me. We must all make him, girls; his
+father's given him oceans of money to spend, of course."
+
+It was loud enough for Polly to hear, and she dropped the box of ribbon
+under the table.
+
+"No, no," she said decidedly, hurrying over, "Grandpapa said we were not to
+ask a single person to buy. That's the rule, you know, Clem."
+
+"We could make ever so much more," grumbled Clem; "it's for the poor
+children, you know, Polly."
+
+"Grandpapa said not," repeated Polly, her cheeks like a rose, and back she
+flew again to her post.
+
+"I shan't buy anything of you, Clem Forsythe," loudly declared small Rick
+over to her, taking his little cane from the nursemaid's hand, "anyway. And
+beside, my papa said if any one teased me to spend my money, I was to come
+right away. But he didn't believe they would here." And with his basket of
+flowers for his mother, he moved off with great dignity across the lawn,
+swinging his cane as he had noticed the men did.
+
+"Of all kids, I do think that Rick Halliday is the most detestable infant,"
+exclaimed Clem, in great discomfort. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Nunn"--her face
+brightening--"we have heliotrope, ever so much of it." She thrust her hands
+into a big vase overflowing with fragrance. "How many? Oh, three dozen
+sprays. Yes, indeed."
+
+[Illustration: "But this is ten dollars," said Joel]
+
+And the bands--one at the end of the big lawn, and the other on the terrace
+at the farther side of the house--were playing their sweetest; and now the
+society folk began to put in an appearance among the throngs of children.
+Everybody was in gala attire, and the garden party was at its height.
+
+"Joel," cried Mr. Cabot to that individual, rushing in and out among the
+little knots of gayly dressed visitors, "here, run over to the post office,
+will you, and see if there are any letters for me?"
+
+"All right," Joel cried, as he flew along. And in an incredibly short space
+of time, back he rushed with three missives.
+
+"How much?"
+
+"Ten cents apiece," said Joel promptly. "I'll get change in a minute," and
+he was flying off again with the bill thrust into his hand.
+
+"I don't take any change here. I don't want any; I won't be bothered with
+it," declared Mr. Cabot, in his most decided fashion.
+
+"But this is ten dollars," said Joel, aghast, and stopping short to flap
+the bill.
+
+"Never mind, that's my affair; go along, or I'll report you. Aren't you one
+of the postmen?"--pointing sternly to his badge.
+
+"Yes," said Joel, straightening up, and puffing out his chubby cheeks with
+pride.
+
+"Well, then, you'll find yourself reported if you don't march," cried Mr.
+Cabot "So off with yourself to the postmaster."
+
+"Come on, Joel," called another of the postmen, who happened to be Percy,
+rushing along. "I'm going to get my mail bag now, there's just a crowd of
+folks waiting over there for letters"--pointing over to the pine grove.
+
+"So will I get mine," shouted Joel, "and see here"--waving his ten-dollar
+bill--"what Mr. Cabot sent to Jasper. I guess that'll send one poor child
+off into the country, Percy Whitney! Won't that be prime!"
+
+There was such a crowd around the Wistaria-arbor post office, that Percy
+and Joel, who much preferred being letter-carriers to helping Jasper
+within, had to crawl in under the vines, to find the mail bags.
+
+"Here, Jasper," cried Joel, "take it, do"--throwing the ten-dollar bill
+down in a flurry, to fling the strap of his mail bag over his head before
+Percy should get his in order.
+
+But Jasper, who was trying to satisfy the demands of a throng of people all
+clamoring at the small window for letters, didn't see it, or even hear his
+name called. So the ten-dollar bill lay perfectly still where it fell,
+until it got all tired out, and a little puff of wind, sweeping through the
+arbor, blew it first to one side, and then to the other, until at last it
+fell down among a tangle of evergreen with which the posts of the arbor
+were wound. And presently, Van, who much preferred being assistant to
+Jasper to running about as a letter carrier, came along and exclaimed, "Oh,
+that silly old green stuff! It takes up so much room!" And he twitched off
+a lot of it, and the ten-dollar bill, well crumpled up inside of the bunch,
+sighed and said to itself as it was flung under the counter, "Now I guess
+I'm dead and buried forever."
+
+Meanwhile, Joel, as happy as a lark at the thought of Mr. Cabot's
+contribution, went off on the wings of the wind, distributing letters,
+here, there, and everywhere, and receiving lots of orders.
+
+It was, "Oh, Joel, get me a letter,"
+
+And, "Joel, get me one; I can't get near the post office; there's a perfect
+mob there,"
+
+And, "Joel Pepper!"--from clear across the lawn--"come over here; Mrs.
+Singleton wants to see you about some letters," until Joel began to feel
+that he was about running the whole post-office department, and it seemed
+as if every drop of blood was in his chubby face, he was so hot. But he
+never thought of being tired, he was so happy, plunging on.
+
+"Oh, my gracious, honey! you done mos' knocked de bref out o' me!" It was
+Candace, who had left her little shop on Temple Place to help forward the
+garden party, against whom he had come up, careless where he was going.
+
+
+
+
+IX
+
+THE TEN-DOLLAR BILL
+
+
+"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Joel brought himself up remorsefully, trying to recover
+the collection of rag dolls sent spinning from her black arms.
+
+"An' dey were sech perfec' beauties!" mourned Candace, twisting her hands
+sorrowfully together. "Oh, me! oh, my!"
+
+"They aren't hurt a bit," declared Joel stoutly, precipitating the whole
+collection unceremoniously at her. "There they are, every single one, as
+nice as ever!"
+
+"Take care," warned Candace. "Oh, my soul and body!" she mourned, "dey're
+all mussed up."
+
+"You can comb it out," said Joel, longing to comfort, and forgetting it was
+wool from Candace's own head.
+
+"And what'll Mis' Cabot and Mis' Alstyne say?" groaned Candace. Then she
+sat right down on the grass and began to pick at the dolls discontentedly.
+"W'y couldn't you 'a' looked whar you're goin', Mas'r Joel?"
+
+"Have Mrs. Alstyne and Mrs. Cabot bought those dolls?" cried Joel, pointing
+a brown finger at them. "Oh, dear me!" He just saved himself from
+exclaiming, "Those horrors!"
+
+"Yes," said Candace, smoothing a woolly head in great distress, "but I
+dunno's they'll want 'em now, dey've been shook up so and spilt on de
+groun'--oh, dear me!"
+
+"Joel, aren't you coming with that letter bag?" and, "Joel Pepper, hurry
+up!" The cries were now so insistent that Joel dashed away, stopped, and
+rushed back tumultuously. "Oh, Candace, I'm so sorry!" He flung himself
+down on the grass by her side. Distress was written so plainly all over his
+hot face that Candace stopped in her work over the dolls to turn and regard
+him.
+
+"Bress yer heart, honey," she cried, now as much worried over Joel as she
+had been about the dolls, "dey ain't hurt a mite--not a single grain," she
+added emphatically.
+
+"Oh, Candace, are you sure?" he exclaimed delightedly.
+
+"Not a mite," protested Candace, bobbing her own woolly head in a decided
+fashion. "Dear me! now I'm afraid I discomberated my turban, an' it's my
+spick an' span comp'ny one Mr. King give me for this yere berry occasion,"
+and she put up both black hands to feel of it anxiously. Joel jumped to his
+feet and ran all around the big figure to get the most comprehensive view.
+
+"It's all right, Candace," he reported, in great satisfaction.
+
+"Sure, honey?" she asked doubtfully.
+
+"Yes, yes," declared Joel quickly, prancing up in front of her. "I like
+you, Candace; you're just as nice as can be."
+
+"Den gimme your hands!"--she laid the rag dolls carefully on the grass, and
+put out both of her black ones--"and hoist me up, honey, dat's a good
+chile."
+
+So Joel stuck out his brown hands, and Candace laying hold of them, he
+tugged, very red in the face, till finally she set her ample gaiters on the
+ground and stood straight.
+
+Up rushed Van.
+
+"They're complaining at the post office," he squealed. "You've got to give
+me your bag. Folks can't get their letters. Give me the bag." He thrust out
+both hands.
+
+Joel turned on him in a fury,
+
+"You aren't going to have my bag," he screamed.
+
+"I am, too; you're so slow, and don't give out the letters," said Van,
+delighted to find some chance to get the best of Joel, and quite important
+to be sent with a message to such an effect.
+
+"You shan't either; I ain't slow," cried Joel, answering both statements at
+once, and whirling around in an endeavor to keep the bag at his back. But
+Van flew for it, disdaining to waste more time over arguments.
+
+Candace stretched out a large, black hand. "See here, now, Mas'r Van, leggo
+dat bag." She seized him by the jacket collar with such a grip that he
+dismissed all thoughts of the mail bag, his one concern now being to get
+free from Candace.
+
+"Ow!" he screamed, wriggling violently. "I don't want the mail bag; let me
+go, Candace, do!"
+
+"See," cried little Dick, half across the lawn, to a merry party of ladies
+and gentlemen, who turned to follow the pointing of the small finger toward
+Candace and her capture.
+
+"Oh, let me go," cried Van, very red in the face at this, and trying to
+duck behind her big figure, "_please,_ Candace."
+
+"Let him go," begged Joel, just as much distressed; "he won't touch the
+bag, I don't believe, again, Candace."
+
+"Oh, I won't, I won't," promised Van wildly. "I don't want the bag; do let
+me go, Candace."
+
+"Yer see, Mas'r Joel was a-helpin' me," said Candace, slowly releasing
+Van's jacket collar, "an' 'twarn't none 'o his fault dat he stopped
+kerryin' de letters." But Van was off from under her open fingers and shot
+across the green in the opposite direction from little Dick and his party.
+
+"Now I'll take my dolls to de ladies," observed Candace, bundling them up
+in her clean, checked apron. She sent a satisfied glance after Joel, making
+quick time toward the post office, then waddled off.
+
+"Boy!" called a fine, imperious voice, as Joel dashed by a group of ladies
+and gentlemen. As there wasn't any other boy in sight, he might be supposed
+to be the one wanted; but Joel by this time was frantic to get to the post
+office, and with his mind filled with mortification and distress at his
+delay from his duty, he paid no heed to the call, now repeated more
+insistently.
+
+"It's a lady," then said Joel to himself, "so I must go back. Oh, dear me!"
+He wheeled abruptly, and, hot and red-faced, plunged up to the group.
+
+"What is it, ma'am?" Then he saw to his disgust that it was Mrs.
+Chatterton. She was surrounded by friends whom she had met abroad.
+
+"Why didn't you come when I bade you?" she exclaimed arrogantly. "Don't you
+know it's your place to serve me?"
+
+"No, ma'am," said Joel bluntly, his black eyes fixed on her face. One or
+two of the gentlemen turned aside with a laugh.
+
+"What, you little beggar!" Mrs. Chatterton said it between her teeth,
+furious at the amusement of her friends, but Joel heard.
+
+"I'm not a beggar," he declared hotly, and squaring his shoulders. By this
+time he forgot all about the mail bag. "And you haven't any right to say
+so"--with flashing eyes.
+
+Mrs. Chatterton, now seeing him worked up, recovered herself and smiled
+sweetly. She leaned back in her garden chair and swung her parasol daintily
+back and forth.
+
+"Oh, yes, you are," she declared; "we all know it, so there is no use in
+your denying it. Well, you get us some ices and be quick about it." She
+dismissed him with a wave of her beautiful arm, in its flowing, lace
+drapery.
+
+But Joel did not budge.
+
+"You don't know it." He swept the whole group with his black eyes. "It
+isn't as she says, is it?"
+
+"No," said one of the gentlemen who had laughed, whirling around to bring a
+very sharp pair of eyes on Joel's face, "it isn't, my boy."
+
+"Well, I must say," protested Mrs. Chatterton, an angry light coming into
+her cold eyes, and turning around on him sharply, "that this isn't very
+friendly in you, Mr. Vandeusen, to pit that upstart boy against me. Now
+there will be no managing him hereafter."
+
+"Well, but, Mrs. Chatterton," broke in one of the other gentlemen, in a
+propitiatory voice, and leaning over her chair, Mr. Vandeusen turning
+calmly on his heel to survey the distant lawns through his monocle, "a
+beggar, don't you know--well, it isn't the pleasantest thing in the world
+to be called that, don't you know?"
+
+"Particularly when one isn't a beggar," said a young lady hotly. Then she
+turned to Joel and laid a hand on his arm. "Don't you mind it," she said.
+
+"And as for you, Miss Tresor, I should consider it wiser for you to be
+silent." Mrs. Chatterton turned on her with venom. "What do you know about
+these miserable Peppers that infest my cousin's house, pray tell?"
+
+"I like them," declared Miss Tresor decidedly, not turning her head. "Don't
+mind it, my lad."
+
+"I don't, now," said Joel. Then the gentlemen laughed again.
+
+"Oh, I must go." All his long neglect of his letter-carrier duties, made so
+much worse by this delay, now surged over him. He raised his chubby face,
+over which a smile ran, and bounded off.
+
+"Isn't he a dear!" exclaimed Miss Tresor impulsively.
+
+"Come away, Emily," begged another young lady, seizing Miss Tresor's arm,
+"the old cat is quite furious; just look at her face."
+
+"We'll leave her to mamma's tender mercies," said Emily carelessly, "she
+knows how to handle her. Do you remember that scene, Elinor, at Geneva?"
+
+"Don't I!" laughed Elinor, as they sauntered off.
+
+Well, by the time that six o'clock came, there wasn't so much as a scrap of
+a letter left in Jasper's post office, but, instead, a box crammed full of
+silver pieces and banknotes. And Miss Mary Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce,
+and some other young ladies and gentlemen whom they drilled into the
+service, shut themselves up in the library and wrote as fast as ever they
+could make their pens fly over the paper, till little white piles appeared
+on the table. And Percy and Joel and Van and the other boys would rush in
+for these same piles to put them in the post office, to earn more money, to
+go into the big box. So back and forth ran these letter carriers, until
+even Miss Mary threw down her pen.
+
+"I can't write another word," she cried. "I've exhausted everything I can
+think of. I don't want to see another letter!"
+
+And then a card was put up outside the Wistaria arbor, "Post Office
+Closed." And everybody who still had money, was anxious to spend it before
+going home; so it was just lavished on the flower-bowers, the fancy-work
+table, and the candy shop.
+
+And then, when there wasn't anything more to be bought or sold, the bands
+moved down nearer to the center of the big lawn, making the gay little
+groups all move back, leaving a broad, smooth surface, for the affair was
+to end in dancing on the green.
+
+Meanwhile Grandpapa was gallantly offering his arm to Madam Dyce, and
+leading her up to an esplanade on the upper terrace, and, word being spread
+about that all the guests were expected to follow, there they found seats
+and little tables and a bevy of waiters to serve a delicious supper. And
+here the dancing on the green below by the young people could be seen in
+all its gayety, the setting sun casting bright gleams upon the merry scene.
+
+"Dear me! shouldn't you think those young people would be tired enough
+after all they have worked," observed the old gentleman, leaning back in
+his comfortable chair, "to sit still and take it easy with us here?"
+
+"No, indeed!" exclaimed Madam Dyce, "my old feet are actually twitching
+under my gown to dance too."
+
+"In that case," observed old Mr. King most gallantly, "let me lead you
+down, and will you give me the honor?" He bent his white hair to the level
+of her hand.
+
+"No, indeed," laughed Madam Dyce; "I will leave the field for the young
+people. But it carries me back to my youth, when you and I did dance many a
+time together, Horatio."
+
+"Did we not?" laughed Grandpapa, too. And then up came some merry groups,
+tired of dancing, after some supper, when down they would go again,
+fortified and refreshed, to begin it all over once more. At last, even the
+lingering ones were obliged to say good-bye. The evening had shut in and
+the brilliant garden party was a thing of the past. The King household was
+resting and talking it all over on the spacious veranda, luxurious in its
+cushions and rugs, its easy-chairs and hammocks.
+
+"Oh, it has been so perfectly beatific!" exclaimed Polly, in a rapture. She
+was curled up on the top step, her head in Grandpapa's lap, who was
+ensconced in a big chair with Phronsie's tired little face snuggled up on
+his breast. "Hasn't it, Alexia?" For Alexia was going to stay over night.
+
+"Oh, my!" Alexia gave a sigh and squeezed Polly's hand. "I never had such a
+good time in all my life, Polly Pepper," she declared. "The poor children
+won't begin to get the fun out of it that we've had."
+
+"Oh, those dear poor children!" exclaimed Polly, stretching out her toes,
+which now began to ache dreadfully; "just think how perfectly lovely it's
+going to be for them all summer, Alexia."
+
+Joel caught the last words. He poked up his head from one of the hammocks.
+
+"Well, I guess Mr. Cabot has helped a poor child to go into the country,"
+he cried, in a pleased tone.
+
+"I guess everybody has helped," observed Ben, "the way your letters went,
+Jasper! Who would think so many could have been sold!"
+
+Jasper stopped pulling Prince's ears.
+
+"Didn't they go!" he cried, in huge satisfaction.
+
+"I guess you were glad to get that big bill, Jasper," shouted Joel. "My,
+wasn't he good to send it!"
+
+"Eh?" asked Jasper. Everybody was chatting and laughing, so it wasn't
+strange that things couldn't be heard the first time. So Joel shouted it
+again, glad to be allowed to scream such a splendid contribution over and
+over. "The big bill, wasn't it prime, Jasper!"
+
+"What are you talking about, Joe?" cried Jasper, stopping his play with
+Prince, as he saw Joel was terribly in earnest over something.
+
+"Why, the big bill I gave you, that Mr. Cabot sent. Hurrah! Wasn't it
+fine!" Joel kicked up his heels and emitted a whistle that made Polly clap
+her hands over her ears.
+
+"What big bill?" exclaimed Jasper. "What on earth are you talking about,
+Joe?"
+
+Joel tumbled out of the hammock and took long leaps across the piazza
+floor, which landed him in front of Jasper.
+
+"Why, that ten-dollar bill I gave you that Mr. Cabot sent to the post
+office," he said, in a breath.
+
+"You didn't give me any ten-dollar bill," said Jasper, all in a puzzle;
+"you've been dreaming, Joe."
+
+"I--I laid it down right by you." Joe could only gasp the words now.
+
+"I didn't see it," said Jasper.
+
+
+
+
+X
+
+TROUBLE FOR JOEL
+
+
+
+There was an awful pause, for everybody caught the last words. Joel slid to
+the floor in a little heap. Mrs. Chatterton spoke up quickly.
+
+"It's easy enough to see where it went," and she gave a little laugh.
+
+"Come on, Joe." Jasper sprang up and shook Joel's arm. "We'll go and hunt
+for it."
+
+"I'll go, too." Van and Percy screamed it together. Now that any trouble
+had come to Joel, each vied with the other to see which could work the
+faster to help matters.
+
+"I laid it--right down. Oh, dear me!" Joel was pretty far gone in distress
+by this time, and blubbered miserably, as they all raced across the
+greensward, Polly and Alexia following swiftly. "Hold on there, James,"
+ordered Jasper, to one of the three men busy dismantling the post office of
+its improvised trimmings of pine branches.
+
+"Eh--eh, sor? Stop, boys," said James to the workmen within the arbor.
+
+"We have lost something," panted Jasper, as the whole group precipitated
+themselves up to the spot.
+
+"Is that so, sor?" said James, in great concern. "Well, if I'd 'a' known
+it, I'd 'a' kept a sharp eye out for it, sor." Polly and Alexia were
+already in the arbor in the thickest of the green branches scattered over
+the floor, and the boys were picking and pulling wildly, everywhere a
+banknote could be supposed to hide. "What was it, sor?"
+
+"A banknote," said Jasper, down on his knees, prowling over the floor with
+both hands, while Joel, who could scarcely see for the tears that streamed
+down his chubby cheeks, searched desperately on all sides.
+
+"Is that so, sor?" said James, in great distress. "Well now, that's too
+bad. We've taken off two loads already, sor."
+
+"Where have you put them?" demanded Jasper, springing to his feet.
+
+"Down in the dump, sor."
+
+"We must look that over," said Jasper decidedly. "Send your men with
+lanterns; don't touch a single thing here, James, I'll come back," and he
+sprang off.
+
+"No, no, sor," said James, touching his cap. "Now, boys," to the workmen,
+"you can leave this here; get your lanterns and help the master."
+
+"All right," said the men.
+
+"Polly, you and Alexia keep on hunting, won't you?" called Jasper over his
+shoulder, as the boys flew off.
+
+"Yes, we will," called back Polly, who would very much have preferred the
+pleasures of "the dump," a big dell in process of filling up with just such
+debris as had now been added.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Alexia discontentedly, "now we're mewed up here
+when we might be in that dear old sweet dump, Polly Pepper; and all because
+we're girls."
+
+"Well, we can't help it," said Polly, with a sigh, who wished very much
+sometimes that she might be a boy, "so we'd much better keep at work
+hunting for that ten-dollar bill, Alexia."
+
+"And Joel is so dreadfully careless," said Alexia, determined to grumble at
+something, and poking aimlessly at the green branches scattered on the
+floor. "I don't suppose we'll ever find it in all this world, in such a
+mess."
+
+"We must," said Polly, a little white line coming around her mouth.
+
+"Well, we can't, so what's the use of saying that?" and Alexia gave a
+restful stretch to her long arms. "Oh, me! oh, my! I'm so tired, Polly
+Pepper!"
+
+"You know we must find that ten-dollar bill, Alexia," repeated Polly
+hoarsely, working busily away for dear life.
+
+"Well, we can't; it's perfectly hopeless--so do keep still. Just look at
+all this." Alexia waved her arms at the green draperies. "I'm going to pull
+the rest down anyway, though; that'll be fun," and she made a dash at it.
+
+"No, no," said Polly, on her knees on the floor, "we must leave all that
+till Jasper comes back. Come, Alexia, help me look over these."
+
+"Oh, bother!" cried Alexia, in great disdain, "I don't want to poke over
+those old things. You know yourself it's no earthly use; we'll never find
+it in all this world, Polly Pepper."
+
+There was a queer little sound, and Alexia, whirling around, saw Polly
+Pepper in a little heap down in the middle of the green branches.
+
+"Oh, misery! what have I done?"--rushing over to her and shaking her arms.
+"Oh, Polly, do get up, we _will_ find it, I'm positively sure; do get
+up, Polly." But Polly didn't stir.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" wailed Alexia. "Polly, _please_ get up." She ran all
+around her, wringing her hands. "Oh, what did I say it for! Polly, Polly
+Pepper, we'll find it, as sure as anything. We can't help but find it.
+Polly, do get up."
+
+She flung herself down on her knees and began to pat the white face. Polly
+opened her eyes and looked at her.
+
+"What did you say such dreadful things for, Alexia?" she said
+reproachfully.
+
+"Oh, I couldn't help it," exclaimed Alexia remorsefully. "There! Oh, dear
+me! you've scared me 'most to death, Polly Pepper. Do get up." So Polly sat
+straight, and Alexia fussed over her, all the while repeating, "We will
+find it, Polly."
+
+"Dear me!" said Polly, "this isn't hunting for that ten-dollar bill."
+
+"Well, what's the use?" began Alexia. "Oh, yes, of course we'll find it,"
+she brought herself up quickly. "Now, Polly, I tell you." She sprang to her
+feet. "Let's clear a place in this corner"--and she rushed over to it--"and
+then pick up every branch and shake it, and put it over here. Then we'll
+know surely whether that horrid thing is on the floor or not."
+
+"So we shall," cried Polly, getting up on her feet; "that's fine, Alexia!"
+And they set to work so busily they didn't hear when the boys came back
+from their search. But the first moment she saw Jasper's face, Polly knew
+that the hunt was unsuccessful, and the next minute Joel threw himself into
+her arms and hugged her closely.
+
+"Oh, Polly," he sobbed, "it's gone, and it's my fault."
+
+"Cheer up, old fellow," said Jasper, clapping him on the back; "we'll find
+it yet."
+
+Van and Percy stood dismally by, knocking their heels against the arbor
+side, and feeling quite sure they should burst out crying in another
+minute, if Joel didn't stop.
+
+Polly patted his poor head and cuddled it in her neck. "Oh, Joey, we'll
+find it," she said, swallowing a big lump in her throat; "don't cry, dear,"
+while Alexia sniffed and wrung her hands, fiercely turning her back on them
+all.
+
+"Now, boys," said Jasper, in his cheeriest fashion, "we'll all set to work
+on these vines that are left. Come on, now, and let's see who will work the
+fastest."
+
+"I will," announced Van, rushing over to twitch down the green drapery that
+had been such a piece of work for the gardeners to put up. Percy said
+nothing, but set to work quietly, lifting each branch to peer under it.
+
+"Take care," warned Jasper, pausing a minute in his own work to look over
+at Van's reckless fingers; "you must shake each one as you pull it down,
+before you throw it out on the grass, else we'll have all our work to do
+over again. Oh, Alexia, are you coming to help?"
+
+"Of course I am," declared Alexia. "Oh, Van, what a piece of work you are
+making!"
+
+Polly was whispering to Joel, "We ought to help," when Van gave a shout,
+"I've found it! I've found it!"
+
+"Hurrah!" Jasper leapt down from the railing and plunged up in great
+excitement to Polly and Joel. "There, old fellow, what did I tell you?" he
+cried with glowing face, and clapping Joel on the back again.
+
+"Phoh!" exclaimed Percy, in great contempt, "he hasn't, either; it's only a
+bit of green paper."
+
+"I thought I had," said Van, quite crestfallen, and flinging down the dingy
+bit; "it looked just like it."
+
+It was too much; and Joel, who had hopped out of Polly's lap, flung himself
+on the floor and cried as if his heart would break. They couldn't get him
+out of it, so Jasper just picked him up and marched off to the house with
+him to give him to Mother Fisher.
+
+And the next morning, search as hard as they could--and everybody was
+hunting by that time--not a trace of the ten-dollar bill could be
+discovered. And Mrs. Chatterton took pains to waylay Joel in the hall or on
+the stairs at all possible opportunities, and ask him, with a smile at his
+swollen nose and eyes (for he had cried so he could hardly see), if he had
+found it yet. But these chances became very few, for it was Jasper's and
+Polly's very especial business to keep guard over Joel, and try to divert
+him in every way. Meantime the hunt went on. And the third day, when it
+became perfectly apparent to the entire household that the banknote was in
+such a clever hiding-place that no one could find it, Joel, his tears all
+gone, marched into Mr. King's writing-room and up to his big table, and
+without a bit of warning burst out:
+
+"I want to sell tin!"
+
+"Eh, what?" exclaimed the old gentleman, looking over his glasses. "What is
+that you are saying, Joey, my boy?"
+
+"I want to sell tin," said Joel bluntly.
+
+_"Want to sell tin!"_ ejaculated old Mr. King, in amazement.
+
+"Yes, sir, just like Mr. Biggs; he got lots of money. May I, Grandpapa?
+Please say I may." Joel ran around the writing-table to plant himself by
+the old gentleman's chair.
+
+"Oh, my goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King, leaning back in dismay, "whatever
+can you mean, my boy?"
+
+"Grandpapa"--Joel laid a brown hand on the velvet morning-jacket, and
+brought his black eyes very close to the gentleman's face--"I've got to
+earn that ten dollars; I've got to, Grandpapa, 'cause I lost it." Joel's
+voice broke here, but he recovered it and dashed on, "And I can't do it
+unless you will let me sell tin. _Please,_ Grandpapa dear. Mr. Biggs
+used to, in Badgertown, you know, and he took me with him sometimes on his
+cart, so I know how; and I can sell a lot. I can wheel it in my express
+wagon, and--" Joel by this time was running on so glibly, under the
+impression that if he didn't stop, Mr. King would be induced to say yes,
+that the old gentleman was forced to put up his hand peremptorily.
+
+"There, there, Joey, my boy," he said, settling his glasses that had
+slipped to the end of his nose, and taking Joel's hand. "Now, then, let's
+hear all about the matter."
+
+And in a minute or two Joel was perched on the old gentleman's knee, and
+they were having the most sociable time possible. And before long Joel
+forgot he hadn't laughed for oh, such a long while, and lo and behold!
+Grandpapa said something so very funny that they both burst out into a
+merry peal, that rang out into the wide hall beyond.
+
+"Joel is actually laughing," exclaimed Polly, coming soberly down the
+stairs; and she was so overcome by the joyful sound that she sat right down
+on the step. "Oh, dear me, how perfectly lovely!" she breathed, folding her
+hands in delight.
+
+"Isn't it!" Jasper slipped into a seat on the step by her side. "Now
+everything is going to be fine when Joe can laugh!"
+
+"Just hear him," cried Polly, pricking up her ears to catch the blissful
+sound, "and Grandpapa, too. Oh, Jasper!"
+
+"I know it," said Jasper, in great satisfaction. "Father has been so pulled
+down because Joe took it so hard."
+
+"Well, you see, Joel couldn't help it," cried Polly, "because it was
+careless, just as Mamsie said, to leave anything without handing it to the
+person."
+
+"Of course," assented Jasper quickly. "Mrs. Fisher is right; but I'm sure
+any one is likely to do it, and Joel was in such a hurry that day,
+everybody pulling at him this way and that to get letters."
+
+"I know it," said Polly, delighted to hear Joel's part taken, "and just
+think how he worked before, Jasper. He helped such a perfect lot getting
+the flower-table ready."
+
+"He helped everywhere," declared Jasper, bringing down his hand with
+emphasis on his knee. "I never saw anybody work as Joe did."
+
+"And now to think that he has lost that money!" mourned Polly, her head
+drooping sorrowfully over her closed hands. "Oh, dear me, Jasper!"
+
+"But just hear him laugh," cried Jasper, springing up; "it's going to be
+all right now, Polly, I do believe. Come, let's go and hunt some more for
+the banknote."
+
+So they both flew off from the stairs to begin the search for the money
+again. For no one stopped--dear me, not a bit of it!--the hunt for the
+hidden ten-dollar bill. Everybody but Phronsie and little Dick searched and
+prowled in every nook and corner where there was the least possible chance
+that the ten-dollar bill could be in hiding. They had both been so sleepy
+on the evening of the garden party when the loss had been announced, that
+it fell unheeded on their ears. And afterward all the household was careful
+to keep the bad news from them. So the two children went on in blissful
+unconsciousness of Joel's trouble, while the grand hunt proceeded all
+around them.
+
+When Joel emerged from Grandpapa King's writing-room, he was hanging to the
+old gentleman's hand and looking up into his face and chattering away.
+
+"You know it means work," said old Mr. King, looking down at him.
+
+"I know, Grandpapa," said Joel, bobbing his stubby, black head.
+
+"And you must keep at it," said the old gentleman decidedly, "else no pay.
+There's to be no dropping the job, once you take it up. If you do, you'll
+get no money. That's the bargain, Joe?"--with a keen glance into the chubby
+face.
+
+"Oh, I will, Grandpapa, I will," declared Joel eagerly, and hopping up and
+down; "I'll do every single speck of the work. Now do let us hurry and get
+the book."
+
+"Yes, we'll hurry, seeing our business arrangement is all settled," laughed
+the old gentleman. "Now, then, Joel, my boy, we'll go down-town and buy the
+blank book, so that I can set you to work at once," and he grasped the
+brown hand tightly, and away they went.
+
+And in ten minutes everybody knew that Joel was going to make a list of all
+the books in a certain case in old Mr. King's writing-room, and that
+Grandpapa and he were already off down-town to buy a new blank book for the
+work. And at the end of it--oh, joy!--Joel was to have a crisp ten-dollar
+bill to replace the one he had lost.
+
+
+
+
+XI
+
+RACHEL
+
+
+"Here she comes!" roared Mr. Tisbett. The townspeople, hurrying to
+Badgertown depot to see the train bearing the new little girl sent on by
+Mrs. Fisher to their parson's care, crowded up, Mr. and Mrs. Henderson
+smilingly in the center of the biggest group.
+
+"Oh, husband, I do pity her so!" breathed the parson's wife. "Poor thing,
+she will be so shy and distressed!" The parson's heart gave a responsive
+thrill, as he craned his neck to peer here and there for their new charge.
+"She hasn't come. Oh, dear me!"--as a voice broke in at his elbow.
+
+"I'm here." The words weren't much, to be sure, but the tone was wholly
+self-possessed, and when the parson whirled around, and Mrs. Henderson, who
+had been looking the other way, brought her gaze back, they saw a little
+girl in a dark brown suit, a brown hat under which fell smooth braids of
+black hair, who was regarding them with a pair of the keenest eyes they had
+either of them ever seen.
+
+"Oh--oh--my child--" stammered Mr. Henderson, putting out a kind hand. "So
+you have come, Rachel?"
+
+"Yes, I am Rachel," said the child, looking up into his face and laying her
+hand in the parson's big one; then she turned her full regard upon the
+minister's wife.
+
+Mrs. Henderson was divided in her mind, for an instant, whether to kiss
+this self-possessed child, as she had fully arranged in her mind beforehand
+to do, or to let such a ceremony go by. But in a breathing space she had
+her arms about her, and was drawing her to her breast.
+
+"Rachel, dear, I am so glad you have come to us."
+
+Rachel glanced up sharply, heaved a big sigh, and when she lifted her head
+from Mrs. Henderson's neck, there was something bright that glistened in
+either eye; she brushed it off before any one could spy it, as the parson
+was saying:
+
+"And now, where is your bag, child--er--Rachel, I mean?"
+
+Rachel pointed to the end of the platform. "I'll go an' tell 'em to bring
+it here."
+
+"No, no, child." The parson started briskly.
+
+"Let us all go," said Mrs. Henderson kindly, gathering Rachel's hand up in
+one of hers. "Come, dear." So off they hurried, the platform's length, the
+farmers and their wives looking after them with the greatest interest.
+
+"My, but ain't Mrs. Henderson glad to get a girl, though!"
+
+"Yes, she sets by her a'ready."
+
+"Sakes alive! I thought she was a poor child," exclaimed one woman, who was
+dreadfully disappointed to lose the anticipated object of charity.
+
+"So she is," cried another--"as poor as Job's turkey, but Mr. King has
+dressed her up, you know, an' he's goin' to edicate her, too."
+
+"Well, she'll pay for it, I reckon. My! she looks smart, even the back of
+her!"
+
+And before very long, Rachel had been inducted into her room, a pretty
+little one under the eaves, neat as a pin in blue-and-white chintz
+covering, around which she had given a swift glance of approval. And now
+she was down in the parsonage kitchen, in a calico gown and checked apron;
+her own new brown ribbons having been taken off from her braids, rolled up
+carefully, and laid in the top drawer, the common, every-day ones taking
+their places.
+
+Peletiah and Ezekiel were each in a corner of the kitchen, with their pale
+blue eyes riveted on her.
+
+"Well, dear," Mrs. Henderson greeted her kindly, "you have changed your
+gown very quickly."
+
+A tall, square-shouldered woman stalked in from the little entry.
+
+"Oh, Jerusha," exclaimed Mrs. Henderson pleasantly, "this is the little
+girl that Mrs. Fisher sent us. Rachel, go up and speak to Miss Jerusha."
+
+Rachel went over obediently and put out her hand, which the parson's sister
+didn't seem to see. Instead, she drew herself up stiffer than ever, and
+stared at the child.
+
+"Ah, well, I hope she won't forget that she's very poor, and that you've
+taken her out of pity," said Miss Jerusha.
+
+Rachel started back as if shot, and her black eyes flashed. "I ain't poor,"
+she screamed. "I ain't goin' to be pitied."
+
+"Yes, you are, too," declared Miss Jerusha, quite pleased at the effect of
+her words, and telling off each syllable by bringing one set of bony
+fingers down on the other emphatically; "in fact, you're a beggar, and my
+brother----"
+
+"I ain't, ain't, ain't!" screamed Rachel shrilly, and, flinging herself on
+her face on the floor, she flapped her feet up and down and writhed in
+distress. "I want to go home!" she sobbed.
+
+The boys, for once in their lives, actually started, and presently they
+were across the kitchen, to their mother, kneeling by Rachel's side.
+
+"Don't let her go," they said together.
+
+"She isn't going," said Mrs. Henderson, smoothing the shaking shoulders,
+but Rachel screamed on.
+
+"Dear me!" The parson hurried in at the uproar, his glasses set up on his
+forehead where his nervous fingers had pushed them. "What is the matter?"
+
+"That poor child," answered Miss Jerusha, pointing a long finger over at
+the group in the middle of the kitchen, "is acting like Satan. I guess
+you'll repent, brother, ever bringing her here."
+
+"'Twas Aunt Jerusha," declared Peletiah bluntly, "and I wish she'd go
+home."
+
+"Hush, hush, dear," said his mother, looking up into his face.
+
+There was an awful pause, the parson drew a long breath, then he turned to
+his sister.
+
+"Jerusha," he said, "I wish you would go into the sitting-room, if you
+please."
+
+"An' let you pet that beggar child," she exclaimed, in shrill scorn, but
+she stalked off.
+
+Mr. Henderson went swiftly across the kitchen and knelt down by his wife.
+
+"Rachel"--he put his hand on the little girl's head--"get directly up, my
+child!"
+
+Rachel lifted her eyes, and peered about. "Has she gone--that dreadful,
+bad, old woman?"
+
+"There is no one here but those who love you," said the minister. "Now,
+child, get directly up and sit in that chair." He indicated the one, and in
+a minute Rachel was perched on it, with streaming eyes. Peletiah, having
+started to get a towel, and in his trepidation presenting the dish-rag, the
+parson dried her tears on his own handkerchief.
+
+"Now, then, that is better," he said, in satisfaction, as they all grouped
+around her chair.
+
+"Rachel, there mustn't be anything of this sort--tears, I mean--again.
+That lady is my sister, and----"
+
+_"Your sister!"_ screamed Rachel, precipitating herself forward on her
+chair in imminent danger of falling on her nose, to gaze at him in
+amazement.
+
+"Yes"--a dull red flush crept over the minister's face--"and--and whatever
+she says, Rachel, why, you are not to mind, child."
+
+"She ain't a-goin' to sass me," declared Rachel stoutly.
+
+"Well, I don't believe she will again; let us hope not," said Mr.
+Henderson, in a worried way. "However, you are not to cry; remember that,
+Rachel, whatever happens," he added firmly: "you are to be happy here; this
+is your home, and we all love you."
+
+"You do?" said Rachel, much amazed, looking at them all. "Oh, well, then,
+I'll stay." And slipping down from her chair, she seized Mrs. Henderson's
+apron. "What'll I do? Mrs. Fisher told me how to wash dishes. May I do
+'em?"
+
+"Yes, and the boys shall wipe them," said Mrs. Henderson, and pretty soon
+there was a gay little bustle in the old kitchen, the parson staying away
+from the writing of the sermon to see it.
+
+But Peletiah and Ezekiel were much too slow to suit Rachel, who got far
+ahead of them, so she flew to the drawer in the big table where she had
+seen them get the dish-towels, and, helping herself, she fell to work
+drying some of the big pile in the drainer in the sink.
+
+"I don't see how you can go so fast," observed Peletiah, laboriously
+polishing up his plate.
+
+"Well, I don't see how you can go so slow," retorted Rachel, with deft
+passes of the towel over the cup. "My! I sh'd think your elbows had gone to
+sleep."
+
+"They haven't gone to sleep," said Peletiah, who was always literal; and
+setting down his plate, half-dried, on the table, he turned over one arm to
+investigate.
+
+"Of course not, you little ninny," said Rachel lightly. "I didn't----"
+
+"Rachel, Rachel!" said the parson's wife, over by the table. She was
+getting her material together for baking pies, and she now added gently,
+"We don't call each other names, you must remember that, child."
+
+"Oh!" said Rachel. She stopped her busy towel a minute to think, then it
+flapped harder and faster, to make up for lost time.
+
+"Well, go ahead," she said to Peletiah, "and wipe your plate."
+
+So Peletiah, letting his elbows take care of themselves, picked up his
+plate and set to work on its surface again; and pretty soon the dishes were
+all declared done, the pan and mop washed out, and hung up.
+
+"What'll I do next?" Rachel smoothed down her apron and stood before the
+baking-table, a boy on either side.
+
+"Now, boys," said Mrs. Henderson, pausing in her work of rolling out the
+pie crust, "I think you had better take Rachel down to see Grandma Bascom.
+I've told her she's coming to-day, and she's quite impatient to see her.
+And, Rachel, you can tell her about Mrs. Fisher and Polly and the boys. And
+oh, Rachel, be sure to tell her about Phronsie; she does just love that
+child so!"
+
+The parson's wife leaned on the rolling-pin, and a bright color came into
+her face.
+
+"I'll tell her," said Rachel, a soft gleam in her eyes, and smoothing her
+apron.
+
+"And, Peletiah, go into the buttery, and get that little pat of butter done
+up in a cloth, and give it to Grandma. I do wish my pies were baked"--and
+she fell to work again--"so I could send her one."
+
+So Peletiah went into the buttery and got the pat of butter, and the three
+started off. The parson stepped away from the doorway into the entry, where
+he had been silently watching proceedings, and went over to the window.
+
+"Come here, Almira." He held out his hand.
+
+She dropped her rolling-pin and ran over to his side. He drew her to him.
+
+"See, dear," he said.
+
+Rachel and the two boys were proceeding over the greensward leading down
+the road. She had one on either side; and, wonder of wonders, they were all
+hand in hand.
+
+"We're going to see your Gran," said Rachel, a very sober expression
+settling over her thin little face.
+
+"What?" said Peletiah.
+
+"Your Gran; that's what your mother said."
+
+"Oh, no, she didn't," contradicted Peletiah; "we are going to Grandma
+Bascom's."
+
+"Well, that's the same thing," said Rachel; "she's your Gran, isn't she?"
+
+"She's Grandma Bascom," repeated Peletiah stolidly.
+
+"Oh, dear me! of course! But she's _your_ Gran, isn't she?"--her
+tongue fairly aching to call him "ninny" again.
+
+"No, she isn't; she isn't any one's Gran--she's just Grandma Bascom."
+
+"Oh!" said Rachel. Perhaps it wasn't so very bad as she feared. She would
+wait and see.
+
+"She's dreadfully deaf," remarked Peletiah.
+
+"What's that?"
+
+"She can't hear unless you scream."
+
+Rachel burst into a loud laugh, but it was very musical; and before they
+knew it, although they were very much astonished, the two boys were
+laughing, too, though they hadn't the least idea at what.
+
+"I'm glad of it," announced Rachel, when she had gotten through. "I love to
+scream. Sometimes it seems as if I'd die if I couldn't. Don't you?"
+
+"No, I don't," said Peletiah, "ever feel so."
+
+"Don't _you?"_ Rachel leaned over to peer into Ezekiel's face.
+
+"No, I don't, either," he said.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Rachel, catching her breath. "Well, let's run."
+And before either boy knew what was going to happen, she was hauling them
+along at such a mad pace as they had never before in all their lives
+indulged in.
+
+The butter-pat slipped out of Peletiah's hand, gone on the wind, and landed
+on the roadside grass.
+
+"Wasn't that a good one!" cried Rachel, her eyes shining, as she brought up
+suddenly. "Oh, my! ain't things sweet, though!"--wrinkling up her nose in
+delight.
+
+"I lost the butter-pat," observed Peletiah, when he could get his breath.
+
+"I never see anything so beautiful," Rachel was saying, over and over. Then
+she flung herself flat on the grass, and buried her nose in it, smelling it
+hungrily. "Oh, my!"
+
+"I lost the butter-pat," observed Peletiah again, and standing over her.
+
+"And I'm a-goin' to live here," declared Rachel, in a transport, and
+wriggling in the sweet clover, "if I'm good. I'm goin' to be good all the
+time. Yes, sir!"
+
+"I lost the butter-pat," repeated Peletiah.
+
+"Butter-pat?" Rachel caught the last words and sprang to her feet.
+
+"Oh, yes, I forgot; we must hurry with the butter-pat. Come on!" and she
+whirled around on Peletiah. "Why, where--?" as she saw his empty hands.
+
+"I lost the butter-pat," said Peletiah. "I've been telling you so."
+
+"No, you haven't," contradicted Rachel flatly.
+
+"Yes, I have," said Peletiah stolidly.
+
+"No such thing." Rachel squared up to him, her black eyes flashing. "You
+haven't said a single word, you bad, wicked boy."
+
+"Yes, I have," repeated Peletiah, ready to say it over for all time; "I've
+told you so a great many times."
+
+Rachel looked at him, and put up both hands. The only thing proper to do
+under such circumstances was to shake him smartly, but it seemed so like
+attacking a granite post, and besides, he was the minister's son, and she
+was going to be good, else they must send her away (so Mrs. Fisher had
+said), so her arms flopped down to her side, and hung there dismally. And
+she burst out:
+
+"Where did you lose it, you nin--? I mean--oh, dear me!--where, I
+say?"--frowning impatiently.
+
+"Back there," said Peletiah, pointing down the road. "You pulled me along
+so, it flew out of my hand."
+
+Rachel set her teeth together hard.
+
+"Come on!"
+
+She seized a hand of each boy, Ezekiel being a silent spectator all the
+time; and if they went fast before, this time, in retracing their steps, it
+might be called flying, till a little spot on the roadside grass showed the
+object of their search. Peletiah's breath was gone entirely by this time,
+and he sank down by its side without a word, his brother following suit.
+
+"I shall carry it now," announced Rachel, gathering up the little pat, safe
+in its white cloth. "My! 'tain't hurt a bit" She brushed off a few
+marauding ants. "Come on, now!"
+
+Peletiah struggled to his feet and gasped, "I shall carry it," and put out
+his hands.
+
+"No such thing." Rachel held the butter-pat firmly in her slender, brown
+hand. "My! you ain't fit to carry no butter-pats--let 'em drop out of your
+hands. Come on!"
+
+"I shall carry it," declared Peletiah doggedly, and bringing his pale eyes
+to bear on her face, while he stood still in his tracks.
+
+"I hope you may get it," cried Rachel triumphantly. "I never see such a
+boy. Come on, I say." She held out her hand with authority.
+
+"My mother said I was to carry the butter-pat, and I shall carry it," said
+Peletiah, putting out one hand for it, and the other behind his back.
+
+Rachel wrinkled her brows and thought a minute.
+
+"So she did," she said. Then she set the butter-pat in Peletiah's hand, and
+pinched his thumb down over it. "There, hold on to it," she said, "or
+you'll lose it again. Now, come on!"
+
+The way back was conducted on slower lines, as Rachel had an anxious
+oversight lest the butter-pat should again be taken off on the wind, so
+that Peletiah and Ezekiel had a chance to recover their breath, with some
+degree of composure, by the time they turned down the lane to Grandma
+Bascom's. There she was, sitting in her big chintz-covered chair, resting
+after the morning's work, as they found on entering the little old kitchen.
+
+Rachel's eyes had been getting bigger and bigger, though she had said
+nothing tip to this time; but when they rested on the old lady's face,
+under the big, frilled cap, she burst out sharply:
+
+"Is that your Gran?"
+
+"She isn't my Gran," replied Peletiah.
+
+"No, she isn't," echoed Ezekiel.
+
+"Well, is she Gran?" demanded Rachel impatiently--"anybody's Gran--just
+Gran? Say, is she?"
+
+"No, she isn't Gran," said Peletiah, shaking his head of stiff, light hair.
+
+"Oh, dear me! you said so," cried Rachel, in a high, disappointed key.
+"Oh, dear, dear, dear! I wish she was." And, terribly afraid she was going
+to cry, she marched off to the little-paned window, and twisted her fingers
+into knots.
+
+"She's Grandma," said Ezekiel, walking over to her and peering around her
+side.
+
+"Oh, then she is," cried Rachel, springing around. "Say"--she seized his
+jacket--"she's my Gran, an'----"
+
+"Grandma, I said," repeated Ezekiel.
+
+"Yes, yes, Grandma; well, she's mine."
+
+"She's all our Grandma," said Ezekiel decidedly.
+
+"Yes, yes, but she's mine, too," declared Rachel, bobbing her head
+decidedly. "She shall be my Gran--Grandma. I shall just take her, so
+there!"
+
+"You musn't take her away," said Ezekiel, in alarm.
+
+"I ain't goin' to; I don't want to. I'm goin' to live here always an'
+forever," declared Rachel firmly.
+
+Ezekiel smiled at that in great satisfaction, and the matter being settled,
+Rachel skipped over to the old lady's chair, and looked steadily down into
+the wrinkled face.
+
+"Go out and put the butter-pat somewhere," she said to Peletiah, who still
+held it in his hand, waiting to present it.
+
+"I must give it to Grandma," he said; "my mother told me to."
+
+"Well, you can't while she's asleep," said Rachel quickly, "so you put it
+somewhere--anywhere--and when she wakes up, why, you can give it to her. Do
+hurry--and you go and help him."
+
+So the two boys walked off to find a place in the buttery, and quick as
+lightning Rachel leaned over and set a kiss on the wrinkled old cheek. If
+Grandma couldn't hear, she was very quick at feeling,
+
+"Why!" She stirred uneasily in her chair, and opened her eyes.
+
+"Who is this?" she asked, staring at the strange little girl, for although
+the parson's wife had told her all about the new member of the family to
+come that day, Grandma was so bewildered by being suddenly aroused from her
+sleep, she had forgotten all about it. "Hey, who is it?"
+
+Peletiah, not having had time to put down the butter-pat, now came up and
+presented it with all due formality.
+
+"But who is this little gal?" asked Grandma, as he set the butter-pat in
+the middle of the checked apron over her lap.
+
+"She's Rachel," said Peletiah.
+
+"Eh? What?" Grandma held a shaking hand behind her ear. "Speak a little
+louder, Peletiah; you know I'm a-growin' hard o' hearin', just a grain."
+
+"Rachel," shouted Peletiah, as he stood still in his tracks in front of
+her.
+
+"Ain't well! Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Grandma, in a tone of great concern.
+"What a pity!" and she turned and regarded the stranger with anxiety.
+
+"Oh, dear me! You get away, Peletiah," commanded Rachel, brushing him
+aside. So Peletiah, very glad to be released, moved off, and Rachel,
+putting her mouth to the nodding cap-border, said very distinctly:
+
+"Mrs. Fisher sent me to live at the minister's; I'm Rachel."
+
+"Oh, my land o' Goshen!" exclaimed Grandma Bascom, lifting both hands in
+delight. "Why, I can hear you splendid. You see, I'm only a grain deaf. An'
+so you're that little gal. Well, I'm glad you've come, you pretty creeter,
+you!"
+
+
+
+
+XII
+
+DOINGS AT THE PARSONAGE
+
+
+And in another minute Rachel was telling all about Mrs. Fisher and Polly
+and Phronsie--oh, and Joel and David--for Grandma kept interrupting and
+asking all sorts of questions, so that the news and messages were all
+tangled up together.
+
+"Did Joel say he wanted pep'mints?" asked Grandma, in a lull.
+
+"Oh, yes, he said yours were awful good, and he wished he had some of 'em,"
+Rachel answered. She didn't dare take her mouth away from the cap-frill,
+and her feet ached dreadfully from standing still so long. But Grandma was
+as bright as a button, and hungry for every scrap of information.
+
+"Land o' Goshen!" mourned Grandma, "how I wish he was comin' in now! an'
+I'd give him plenty." She sat still for a minute, lost in thought. Peletiah
+and Ezekiel had wandered off outside, where they sat under the lilac
+bushes, to rest after their unwonted exercise, so the hens, undisturbed,
+stepped over the sill of the kitchen door, and scratched and picked about
+to their hearts' content.
+
+"I'll drive 'em out," said Rachel, delighted at the chance of action this
+would give her, and springing off.
+
+"Take the broom," screamed Grandma after her, "and then hurry and come back
+and tell me some more."
+
+So Rachel, wishing the duty could be an hour long, shooed and waved her
+broom wildly, and ran and raced, and the fat old hens tumbled over each
+other to get away. And then she came slowly back to Grandma's side, to go
+over again every bit she had told before. Until, looking up at the old
+clock on the shelf, she saw that it was one minute of twelve o'clock.
+
+"Oh, my! I've got to go," she screamed in Grandma's ear, and without
+another word she dashed off and up to the lilac bushes. "Boys, come this
+minute." She held out both hands. "It's awful late."
+
+"I know it," said Peletiah, with a very grieved face; "we've been waiting
+for you ever so long, and dinner's ready at home."
+
+"Well, come now." She stuck her long arms out straight, and shook her
+fingers impatiently. "Oh, dear me--do hurry!"
+
+"I ain't goin' to take hold of hands," declared Peletiah, edging off.
+
+"Nor I, either," echoed Ezekiel.
+
+"Oh, yes, you must." And without waiting for more words on the matter,
+Rachel seized a hand of each, and bore off the boys.
+
+If they ran before, they flew now. But all the same they were late to
+dinner, and the parson and his wife and Miss Jerusha were all helped
+around, and had begun to eat.
+
+"There, see what that new girl has done already," said Miss Jerusha
+sternly, laying down her knife and fork. "Peletiah and Ezekiel ain't ever
+late. Well, you'll see trouble enough with her, or I'll miss my guess."
+
+Peletiah sank down on the upper step of the piazza, but Ezekiel crept into
+the kitchen, while Rachel pushed boldly up to Mrs. Henderson's chair.
+
+"Oh, I'm awful sorry," she said. Her face was very flushed and her eyes
+glowed with the run.
+
+"Ben gallivantin' off an' temptin' the boys to play," declared Miss
+Jerusha, with a shrewd nod of her brown front. "Oh, I know."
+
+"We won't say any more about it now, dear," said Mrs. Henderson gently, at
+sight of the hot little face. "There, get into your chair, this one next to
+me. Where's Peletiah?"--looking about.
+
+"Oh, I'm awful tired," wailed Ezekiel, slipping into his seat next to the
+parson, and he drew the back of his hand across his red face.
+
+"Ben playing so hard," said Miss Jerusha disagreeably, "an' now you're all
+het up."
+
+"I haven't played a single bit," declared Ezekiel stoutly, and with a very
+injured expression of countenance. "Oh, dear me, I AM so tired!" stretching
+his legs under the table.
+
+"Eat your dinner, my son," said the parson, putting a liberal portion on
+his plate.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" Ezekiel essayed to, but laid down his spoon. "I don't want
+anything, I'm so tired."
+
+Mrs. Henderson cast an anxious glance over at him.
+
+"No need to worry," her husband telegraphed back, going quietly on with his
+own dinner. Rachel had begun on hers with hungry zest, but stopped
+suddenly, hopped out of her chair, and raced to the door.
+
+"Rachel!" It wasn't a loud voice, but she found herself back again and
+looking into Mrs. Henderson's face.
+
+"Sit down, dear; we do not leave the table in that way."
+
+So Rachel slipped into her seat, feeling as if all the blood in her body
+were in her hot cheeks.
+
+"Now, what is it?" The parson's wife took one of the brown hands working
+nervously under the tablecloth. "Tell me; don't be afraid," she said
+softly. But Miss Jerusha heard.
+
+"Stuff and nonsense!" she exclaimed, with a sneer. "When I was a child,
+there was no such coddlin' goin' on, I can tell you."
+
+"It's Peletiah," said Rachel. "Oh, dear me! he's out on the piazza, and he
+must be awfully hungry. Can't I make him come in?"
+
+"No, sit still. Husband"--the parson's wife looked down the table--"excuse
+me a minute." She slipped out, and in another moment in she came, and
+Peletiah with her.
+
+And then Mr. Henderson told such a funny story about a monkey he had read
+about only just that very morning, that Ezekiel forgot there ever was such
+a thing as tired legs, and even Peletiah had no thoughts for that dreadful
+run home from Grandma Bascom's.
+
+As for Rachel, all idea of dinner flew at once out of her head. She laid
+down her knife and fork and leaned forward with sparkling eyes, to catch
+every word. Seeing which, Mrs. Henderson burst out laughing.
+
+"I'm afraid you are making things worse, husband," she said, "for they
+won't eat any dinner at all now."
+
+"I surely am," said the parson, with another laugh, "and I thought I was
+going to help so much," he added ruefully.
+
+"How you can laugh," exclaimed Miss Jerusha sourly, at the good time in
+progress, and sitting quite stiffly, "I don't for my part see."
+
+"Oh, well, if you'd laugh more, it would be better for all of us, Jerusha,"
+said her brother good-naturedly.
+
+"I ain't a-goin' to laugh," declared Miss Jerusha, "and it's a wicked,
+sinful shame to set such an example before those boys, like coddlin' up
+that girl for keepin' them off playin'. I never see such goin's on!"
+
+"We haven't been playing," said Peletiah stoutly.
+
+"I told her so," said Ezekiel fretfully, seeing that his father had no more
+monkey stories to offer, "but she keeps saying it just the same. I wish
+she'd go off and play," he added vindictively.
+
+The idea of Miss Jerusha ever having played, made Rachel turn in her chair
+and regard her fixedly. Then she broke out into a laugh; it was such a
+merry peal that presently the boys joined in, and even the parson and his
+wife had hard work to keep their faces straight.
+
+"Well, if I _ever_ see such goin's on!" Miss Jerusha shoved back her
+chair and stalked out of the room.
+
+"Did she ever play?" asked Rachel, when the door into the keeping-room had
+slammed.
+
+"Why, yes, of course, child," said Mrs. Henderson, with a smile, "when she
+was a little girl."
+
+"And was she ever a little girl?" persisted Rachel.
+
+"Why, certainly. Now eat your dinner, Rachel."
+
+Rachel picked up her knife and fork. When the two boys saw that she was
+ready to really begin on her meal, they set to on theirs.
+
+"I'm awful hungry," announced Peletiah, when he had been working busily on
+his plateful.
+
+The parson burst out into a laugh, like a boy.
+
+"Hush, husband," warned Mrs. Henderson; "I'm afraid Jerusha will hear."
+
+"I can't help it, Almira." His eyes were brimming with amusement. "Our boys
+are getting waked up already."
+
+"I ain't asleep," declared Peletiah, looking up at his father in amazement;
+"I'm eating my dinner."
+
+"So am I," announced Ezekiel wisely, and putting out his plate for another
+potato.
+
+"So I see," said his father gravely. "Well, now we're all getting on very
+well," he added, in great satisfaction, with a glance around the table.
+"Good-bye; you must excuse me, wife; you know I must get over to the
+funeral early."
+
+"Is old Miss Bedlow dead, Ma?" asked Peletiah, pausing in the act of
+getting some gravy to his mouth.
+
+"Yes, dear. Take care, Peletiah, and pay attention to your dinner."
+
+Peletiah set down the mouthful on his plate. "I hain't got to go, have I,
+Ma?" he asked, in trepidation.
+
+"No, dear; now go on with your dinner, and don't say 'hain't.'"
+
+"I'm glad I haven't got to go," observed Peletiah, with a long sigh of
+relief, and beginning on his dinner once more. "I don't like funerals."
+
+"I do." Rachel bobbed her black head at him across the table, and her eyes
+roved excitedly. "I've seen lots an' lots of 'em in the city. They're fine,
+I tell you." She laid down her knife and fork again and waved her arms.
+"Oh, a string of carriages as long--an' the corpse is sometimes in a white
+box, and heaps of flowers. I like 'em next to the circus."
+
+"There, there, Rachel, eat your dinner, child," broke in Mrs. Henderson
+quickly. "And, boys, don't talk any more. You must get through dinner, for
+I have to go to Miss Bedlow's by two o'clock," and she got out of her chair
+and began to clear the table.
+
+So all that was to be heard now in the parsonage kitchen was the pleasant
+rattle of knives and forks, and the bustle of clearing up, and presently
+the children hopped out of their chairs and began to help Mrs. Henderson to
+set everything in order.
+
+"I'm goin' to wash every single thing up," announced Rachel, hurrying for
+the mop.
+
+"Can you, dear?" asked the parson's wife. She was very tired, and yet had
+the funeral of the old parishioner to attend. But the risk seemed great of
+allowing the new little girl to do up all the dinner dishes. "There are a
+great many of them, and some of them are big"--glancing doubtfully around
+the piles. "Are you sure you can manage them?"
+
+"Why, yes," declared Rachel in scorn, "I can do 'em all just as easy!" She
+stopped to snap her fingers at the greasy plates, then ran over to get the
+big teakettle on the stove in a twinkling.
+
+"Let Peletiah carry that for you," said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+"He's so slow," said Rachel, but she stopped obediently.
+
+"Rachel, there is one thing"--and the parson's wife came over and put her
+hand on the thin little shoulder--"we all help each other in this house,
+and we never talk against one."
+
+"Oh," said Rachel.
+
+Peletiah by this time had advanced on the teakettle, and, as soon as he
+could, he bore it off and solemnly poured a goodly supply of boiling-hot
+water into the waiting dishpan.
+
+"Now you boys are to wipe the dishes for Rachel," said their mother, with
+an approving glance at the group.
+
+"I'd rather," began Rachel, wrinkling up her face.
+
+"So remember; and when you are through, and the kitchen is set up neatly,
+you may all play out of doors this afternoon, for lessons don't begin for
+you until to-morrow, Rachel. And now be good children."
+
+"I don't like lessons," said Peletiah, when they were left alone.
+
+"Don't you?" exclaimed Rachel, in astonishment, and resting her soapy hands
+on the edge of the dishpan.
+
+"No, I don't," declared Peletiah, with great deliberation, "like them at
+all."
+
+"Well, I shall, I know." Rachel twitched off her hands and slapped the mop
+down smartly among the cups in the hot water.
+
+"Ow! you splashed me all over," exclaimed Ezekiel. "See there, now,
+Rachel." He stepped hack and held up his arm.
+
+"Phoo! that's nothing," said Rachel.
+
+"It hurt; it's hot," said Ezekiel, squirming about.
+
+"Well, if you ain't a baby!" cried Rachel scornfully.
+
+"My mother said we weren't to call names," observed Peletiah.
+
+"Oh, my! I forgot that. But he is a baby," declared Rachel.
+
+"My mother said we were not to call names," repeated Peletiah, exactly as
+if he hadn't made that remark before.
+
+"Oh, dear me! how perfectly awful you--I mean I never saw such boys. Oh,
+my!"
+
+"My mother said----"
+
+"Yes, yes, I know," interrupted Rachel, splashing away for dear life;
+"well, now we must hurry and get these dishes done."
+
+"And then we can go out and play," said Ezekiel, departing with the plate
+he was drying to a safe distance from the hot shower from Rachel's busy
+fingers.
+
+"Yes. Oh, my, what fun! Let's hurry." And before the boys quite knew how,
+the dishes were all piled in the pantry, the dishpan and mop washed out and
+hung up to dry, and the crumbs swept from the kitchen floor.
+
+"There," said Rachel, smoothing down her apron in great satisfaction, "now
+we can go out. Come on, I'm going to the corner to see that funeral go by."
+
+"We can't," said Peletiah, trying his best to hurry after her. "Mother
+doesn't let us go out of the yard when she's away; and beside, there isn't
+any corner--the road just goes round."
+
+"Oh, bother!" Rachel whirled around and stamped her foot impatiently.
+
+"And 'twill come past our house," contributed Ezekiel, gaining her side,
+"so let's sit on the doorstep till it comes."
+
+"And you can tell us about the funerals you've seen in the city," suggested
+Peletiah, who had been thinking about them ever since.
+
+"All right," said Rachel, seeing she was not to lose sight of the parade
+she so dearly loved. "Whoopity--la!" She flung herself down on the long,
+flat doorstone, and whipped her gown neatly away on either side. "I'm goin'
+to sit in the middle."
+
+The boys, very much pleased at this arrangement, which they would never
+have thought of suggesting, sat down sedately in their places and folded
+their hands in their laps.
+
+"Now tell about those funerals," said Peletiah.
+
+"Well, let me think," said Rachel, reflecting; "you see, I've seen so many.
+Hmm! Oh, I know!" She jumped so suddenly that she came near precipitating
+Ezekiel, who was leaning forward to attain a better view of her face, off
+into the middle of the peony bed.
+
+"Take care!" Rachel twitched him back into his place. "Yes, I'm goin' to
+tell you about one perfectly splendid funeral I see just----"
+
+"You mustn't say 'see,'" corrected Peletiah, with disapproval. He was
+fairly longing for the recital, but it would never do to let such a slip in
+conversation pass.
+
+"Well, what shall I say, then?" cried Rachel pertly, and not at all pleased
+at the interruption.
+
+"You must say 'saw.'"
+
+"I didn't saw it; you can't saw a thing," she declared contemptuously.
+"You've got to see it, or else you can't say you did. So there,
+Pel--Pel--whatever your name is."
+
+"My name is Peletiah," he said solemnly,
+
+"Peletiah--oh. dear me!" Rachel put her face between her two hands and
+began to giggle.
+
+"Tell about the funeral," said Ezekiel, twitching her sleeve.
+
+"And you must say 'saw,'" reiterated Peletiah.
+
+"I can't; 'tain't right, an' I ain't a-goin' to say 'saw' to please you, so
+there, now!" declared Rachel, bringing up her head and setting her mouth
+obstinately.
+
+"Then I ain't going to sit here," said Peletiah, getting off from the
+door-stone, "because my mother wouldn't like it; she always makes me say
+'saw.'"
+
+"Does she?" cried Rachel, a little red spot coming on either cheek. "Does
+she, Pele--Pele--say, does she?"
+
+"Yes, she does," said Peletiah, moving off slowly.
+
+"Well, then, I'll say it. Came back and sit down; I'll say it. Saw, saw,
+saw. There, now"--as Peletiah, very much delighted, settled back into his
+place. "Well, you know this was a great big-bug who was buried, and----"
+
+"A big bug!" exclaimed Peletiah, terribly disappointed. "I don't want to
+hear of any bugs; tell about a funeral," he commanded loudly.
+
+"I am tellin' you; keep still an' you'll hear it. Well, he was a gre--at
+big-bug, an'----"
+
+"Who was?" cried Ezekiel, dreadfully puzzled.
+
+"This man who was to be buried--this one I'm tellin' you of. Do keep still,
+an' you'll hear if you don't stop me every minute."
+
+"You said it was a bug," said Peletiah, in loud disapproval, on the further
+side.
+
+"Well, so he was," declared Rachel, turning around to him. "Some men are
+big-bugs, an' some men are only little mean ones. But this one I'm tellin'
+you about was, oh, an awful big one," and she spread her arms with a
+generous sweep to indicate his importance.
+
+"Men aren't ever bugs," said Peletiah decidedly.
+
+"Oh, yes, they are."
+
+"No, they ain't," he declared obstinately.
+
+"My mother says we mustn't contradict," put in Ezekiel, with a reproving
+glance at him across Rachel's lap.
+
+Peletiah unfolded his hands in extreme distress, but he couldn't say that
+men were bugs, so he sat still.
+
+"Anyway, they are in the city, where I lived," said Rachel, "so never mind.
+Well, this funeral was just too splendid for anythin'. In the first place
+there was----"
+
+"Oh, it's coming," cried Ezekiel, pricking up his ears. "Miss Bedlow's
+funeral's coming."
+
+Rachel gave a jump that carried her off from the door-stone and quite a
+piece down the box-bordered path. She was hanging over the gate when the
+boys came up.
+
+"Where?" she said. "I don't see any."
+
+A small, black, high-topped wagon went by, the old horse at a jog trot, and
+after it came a two-seated rockaway, and after that a carryall, and around
+the curve in the road appeared more vehicles of the same patterns, tapering
+off to a line of chaises and gigs.
+
+"Why, that's the funeral," said Peletiah, in solemn enjoyment, and pointing
+a finger at it; "it's going by now."
+
+"What!" exclaimed Rachel, horribly disappointed. Then she flew away from
+the gate and turned her back on it all. "I wish I was back in the city!"
+she said.
+
+
+
+
+XIII
+
+"SHE'S GOING TO STAY HERE FOREVER"
+
+
+It was dreadful; and after she had said it, Rachel stood overwhelmed with
+distress. "Don't you tell your father." She whirled around and clutched
+Peletiah's sleeve.
+
+"We must," he said; "he's the minister, and we have to tell him
+everything."
+
+"Well, don't tell your mother, anyway," she begged anxiously.
+
+"We must," said Peletiah again, "because we tell her everything, too."
+
+"Then she'll send me back." Rachel, quite gone in despair, gave a loud cry
+and threw herself face downward on the grass, where she sobbed as if her
+heart would break.
+
+This was so much worse than he had imagined, as any possible effect from
+his words, that Peletiah couldn't speak, but stood over her in silent
+misery. Seeing this, Ezekiel took matters into his own hands.
+
+"I'm going to run after the funeral and get Ma to come home; she'll be at
+the top of the procession," and he moved off toward the gateway.
+
+"Stop!" Rachel squealed; then she sprang to her feet. "Don't you stir a
+step, you!" she commanded.
+
+"They're all hearing you," observed Peletiah, who, seeing Rachel upon her
+feet, found his spirits reviving, and he pointed to the line of buggies and
+chaises. "See 'em looking back; my father won't like it."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" Rachel struggled with her sobs. "You shouldn't 'a' told me
+you had 'em. That ain't a funeral."
+
+"It is, too," declared Peletiah; "it's Miss Bedlow's funeral, and my Pa is
+going to bury her."
+
+"It ain't, either; an' that's a baker's cart," said Rachel, pointing to the
+departing hearse with scorn.
+
+"Oh, oh, what a story!" exclaimed Ezekiel, who was just on the point of
+reproving his brother for contradicting, and he pointed his brown finger at
+her. "That's got Miss Bedlow in, and they're taking her to the
+burying-ground, and it's her funeral."
+
+"Well, I don't want to go back to the city," said Rachel hastily,
+dismissing Miss Bedlow and her funeral and all discussion thereon
+summarily, and she dug the toe of her shoe into the gravel; "don't let your
+mother send me back."
+
+"You said you wished you were back there," observed Peletiah severely,
+fixing his pale eyes on her distressed face, along which the tears were
+making little paths.
+
+"Well, I don't care. I don't want to go. Don't let her!" She seized his arm
+and shook it smartly.
+
+"You're shaking me!" said Peletiah, in astonishment.
+
+"I know it, an' I'm goin' to," said Rachel, stamping her foot.
+
+"You ain't going to shake my brother," declared Ezekiel loudly, "and we'll
+make you go back if you shake us," he added vindictively.
+
+"Oh, dear, dear!" Rachel dropped Peletiah's arm, and she hid her face in
+her hands. "Don't make me go back," she wailed. "It's too dreadful there,
+for Mrs. Fisher won't have me if you send me away, 'n' Gran 'll get hold of
+me somehow--she'll--she'll find me, I know she will," and she shivered all
+over.
+
+"Who's Gran?" Peletiah drew quite near.
+
+"She's Gran," said Rachel, shivering again. "Oh, dear! don't ask me; and
+she beat me dreadful, an'--" her voice broke.
+
+"She beat you?" cried Peletiah.
+
+"Awful," said Rachel, cramming her fingers into her mouth to keep from
+crying. "Oh, dear, dear! don't send me back."
+
+Peletiah took two or three steps off, then came back.
+
+"You may shake me if you want to," he said generously, "and you ain't going
+back."
+
+"Well, she isn't going to shake me," said Ezekiel stoutly, "and my Ma will
+send her back if she shakes me, so there!"
+
+"I hain't shook you yet," said Rachel, disclosing her black eyes between
+her fingers and viewing him with cold disdain.
+
+"Well, you ain't going to," repeated Ezekiel, with decision.
+
+"Her Gran beat her." Peletiah went over to his brother. "She beat Rachel."
+He kept repeating it, over and over; meanwhile Ezekiel moved about in
+confusion, digging the toes of his shoes into the gravel to hide it.
+
+"Well, she ain't going to shake me," he said, but it was in a fainter
+voice, and he didn't look at Rachel's eyes.
+
+"And you mustn't ask Mother to send her back," said Peletiah stubbornly.
+
+"She ain't going to shake me." It was now so low that scarcely any one
+could hear it.
+
+"And you mustn't ask Mother to send her back," said Peletiah again. "She's
+going to stay here just for ever and ever."
+
+There was something in his tone that made Ezekiel hasten to say:
+
+"Oh, I won't."
+
+"And I won't shake you," said Rachel, flying out from behind her hands and
+up to him, "if you'll only let me stay here; just let me stay," she cried,
+hungrily.
+
+"Well," said Ezekiel, with a great deal of condescension, "if you won't
+shake me, you may stay at our house."
+
+So the children went back to the flat door-stone to talk it over, Peletiah
+saying:
+
+"Maybe you can go to school with us next fall."
+
+"Oh, my!" exclaimed Rachel, with wide eyes, and clasping her hands, "I've
+got to learn a lot first."
+
+"Yes, my father's got to teach you first," said Peletiah.
+
+"Where's he going to do it?" Rachel leaned over to get a comprehensive view
+of his face.
+
+"In his study," answered Peletiah.
+
+"Where's that?"
+
+"That's where he writes his sermons in, that he preaches at people
+Sundays," said Ezekiel, finding it very pleasant to be communicative, now
+that he was quite sure the new girl would not shake him.
+
+"Oh, how nice!" breathed Rachel. "That's scrumptious!"
+
+"That's what?" asked Peletiah critically.
+
+"Scrumptious. Haven't you ever heard that? Oh, what a nin--I mean, oh, how
+funny!"
+
+"And it ain't nice at all to have my father teach you," said Peletiah, with
+very doleful ideas of that study.
+
+"Why?" asked Rachel, with gathering dread.
+
+"Oh, he makes you learn things," said Peletiah dismally, drawing a long
+sigh at the remembrance.
+
+"But that's just what I want to do," cried Rachel, with sparkling eyes;
+"I'm goin' to learn an' learn, till I can't learn no more."
+
+Peletiah was so occupied in edging off from her that he forgot to correct
+her speech.
+
+"Yes, I'm goin' to learn," exclaimed Rachel, in a glad little shout, and,
+springing to her feet, she swung her arms over her head. "I'm goin' to read
+an' I'm goin' to write, an' then I can write a letter to my Phronsie."
+
+She ended up with a cheese, plunging down on the grass and puffing out her
+gown like a small balloon.
+
+"You can't do that," she said, nodding triumphantly up at the two boys.
+
+"I don't want to," said Peletiah, sitting still on the door-stone.
+
+"Well, you can't, anyway, 'cause you haven't got a frock. Well, now, let's
+play," and she hopped to her feet. "Come on. What'll it be?"
+
+"I'll show you the brook," volunteered Ezekiel, getting up.
+
+"What's a brook?" asked Rachel.
+
+"Hoh--hoh!" Ezekiel really laughed, it was so funny. "She doesn't know what
+a brook is," he said, and he laughed again.
+
+"Well, what is it?" demanded Rachel, laughing good-naturedly.
+
+"It's water."
+
+"I don't want to see any water," said Rachel, turning off disdainfully;
+"there's nothing pretty in that."
+
+"But it's awfully pretty," said Peletiah; "it runs all down over the
+stones, and under the trees and----"
+
+"Where is it?" cried Rachel, running up to him in great excitement. "Oh,
+take me to it."
+
+"It's just back of the house," said Ezekiel; "I'll show you the way."
+
+But Rachel, once directed, got there first, and was down on her knees on
+the bank, dabbling her hands in the purling little stream, half wild with
+delight.
+
+And when the parson and his wife got home from Miss Bedlow's funeral, they
+found the three children there, perfectly absorbed in the labor of sailing
+boats of cabbage leaves, and guiding their uncertain craft in and out the
+shimmering pools and down through the tiny rapids. And they watched them
+unobserved.
+
+"But I dread to-morrow, when I give her the first lesson," said the parson,
+as they stood unperceived in the shadow of the trees; "everything else is a
+splendid success."
+
+"Let us hope the lessons will be, too, husband," said Mrs. Henderson, a
+happy light in her eyes.
+
+"I hope so, but I'm afraid the child is all for play, and will be hard to
+teach," he said, with a sigh.
+
+But on the morrow--well, the minister came out of his study when the lesson
+hour was over, with a flush on his face that betokened pleasure as well as
+hard work. And Rachel began to skip around for very joy. She was really to
+be a little student, Mr. Henderson had said. Not that Rachel really knew
+what that meant exactly, but the master was pleased, and that was enough,
+and all of a sudden, when she was putting up some dishes in the
+keeping-room closet, she began to sing.
+
+Mrs. Henderson nearly dropped the dish she was wiping.
+
+"Why, my child!" she exclaimed, then stopped, but Rachel didn't hear her,
+and sang on. It was a wild little thing that she had heard from the hand
+organs and the people singing it in the streets of the big city.
+
+Just then old Miss Parrott's stately, ancestral coach drove up. The
+parson's wife hurried to the front door, which was seldom opened except for
+special company like the present.
+
+"I heard," said Miss Parrott, as Mrs. Henderson ushered her in, "that you'd
+taken a little girl out of charity, and I want to see you and your husband
+about it."
+
+"Will you come into his study, then?" said Mrs. Henderson. "Husband has
+gone out to work in his garden, and I will call him in."
+
+Miss Parrott stepped into the apartment in stately fashion, her black silk
+gown crackling pleasantly as she walked, and seated herself very primly, as
+befitted her ancestry and bringing-up, in one of the stiff, high-backed
+chairs. And presently the parson, his garden clothes off and his best coat
+on, came in hurriedly to know his honored parishioner's bidding.
+
+"I will come to the point at once," said Miss Parrott, with dignified
+precision, as he sat beside her, and she drew herself up stiffer yet, in
+the pleasing confidence that what she was about to say would strike both of
+her hearers as the most proper thing to do. "You have taken this little
+girl, I hear, to educate and bring up."
+
+"For a time," said the minister, hurriedly.
+
+"Very true, for a period of time," said Miss Parrott throwing her
+black-figured lace veil, worn by her mother before her, away from her face.
+"Well, now, Pastor, it is not appropriate for you to do this work, with
+your hands already overburdened. Neither should you bear the expense----"
+
+"But I don't," cried Parson Henderson, guilty now of interrupting. "Mr.
+King pays me, and well, for teaching the little girl until she will be
+ready for the district school. You see, she has never been in a schoolroom
+in her life, and it would be cruel to put her with children of her own age,
+when she is so ignorant. But she is singularly bright, and I have the
+greatest hopes of her, madam, for she is far above and beyond most children
+in many ways."
+
+But Miss Parrott hadn't come to hear all this, so she gave a stately bow.
+
+"No doubt, Pastor, but I must say what is on my mind. It is that I have for
+some time wanted to do a bit of charity like this, and Providence now seems
+to point the way for it. I would like to take the child and do for her. Let
+her come to you here, for lessons, but let me bring her up in my house."
+
+There was an awful pause. Parson Henderson looked at his wife, but said
+never a word, helplessly leaving it to her.
+
+"Dear Miss Parrott," said Mrs. Henderson, and she so far forgot her fear of
+the stately, reserved parishioner as to lay her hand on the black-mitted
+one of the visitor, "we were given the care of the child by Mr. King, who
+rescued her from her terrible surroundings, and we couldn't possibly
+surrender this charge to another. But I will tell you what we might do,
+husband," and her eyes sought his face. "Rachel might go down now and then
+to spend the day with Miss Parrott. Oh, your beautiful house!" she broke
+off like a child in her enthusiasm. "I do so want her to be in it
+sometimes." She turned suddenly to the visitor.
+
+Miss Parrott's old face glowed, and a smile lingered among the wrinkles.
+
+"And she must pass the night occasionally," she said. There was a world of
+entreaty in her eyes. "I think so," said Mrs. Henderson, "but we must leave
+that to Rachel."
+
+And Rachel, in the keeping-room closet, was trilling up and down some of
+the jigs her feet had kept time to when she, with the other tenement-house
+children, had run out to dance on the corner when the organ man came round,
+all unconscious of what was going on in the study.
+
+"What's that?" cried Miss Parrott, starting. The conference was over and
+she was coming out of the pastor's study, to get into her ancestral
+carriage.
+
+"That's Rachel singing," said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+Old Miss Parrott gasped:
+
+"Why, my dear Pastor, and Mrs. Henderson, can the child sing like that?"
+
+"This is the first time she has tried it," said the parson, who had no ear
+for music and was sorely tried when expected to admire any specimens of it.
+"But I dare say she will do very well. She is a very teachable child."
+
+"Very well!" repeated Miss Parrott quickly. "I should say so indeed. Well,
+I will send for the child on Saturday to pass the day and night with me,
+and then we shall see what we shall see."
+
+With which enigmatical expression, she mounted her ancestral carriage; the
+solemn coachman, who had served considerably more than a generation in the
+family, gathered up the reins, and the coach rumbled off.
+
+"Oh, what an awful old carriage!" exclaimed Rachel, running to the window.
+"It looks as if its bones would stick out."
+
+"It hasn't got any bones," said Peletiah, viewing it with awe, "and she's
+awful rich, Miss Parrott is."
+
+"I don't care," said Rachel, running back to her work and beginning to sing
+again, "her carriage is all bones, anyway."
+
+
+
+
+XIV
+
+"CAN'T GO," SAID JOEL
+
+
+"Joel--where are you?" Frick Mason raced in, to encounter Polly in the wide
+hall. "Oh, dear me!"--not pausing for an answer--"all the boys are waiting
+for him outside. Please tell him to hurry, Polly," for Joel's friends
+always felt if they could only get Polly on their side, they were sure of
+success, and he shifted his feet in impatience.
+
+"I don't know in the least where Joel is," said Polly, pausing in her run
+through the hall. She had promised Alexia to be over at her house at nine
+o'clock, and there it was, the big clock in the corner stated plainly, five
+minutes of that hour. "Oh, dear me! I wish I could help you," and she
+wrinkled up her brows in distress.
+
+Frick sat down on one of the big, carved chairs and fairly whined:
+
+"I've chased and chased all about here, and no one knows where Joel is.
+Polly, do find him for me," and he began to sniffle.
+
+"Oh, I can't," began Polly impatiently, then she finished, "Dear me! Why, I
+don't know in the very least where Joel is, Frick!--not the leastest bit in
+the world."
+
+"Oh, yes, you can find him," said Frick, sniffling dreadfully, and
+beginning to wheedle and beg. "Do, Polly." He seized her gown. "The boys
+can't do anything without Joel, and they've sent me for him."
+
+"And I'm sure I can't do anything"--Polly shook her gown free--"so there's
+no use in asking me to stand here and talk about it, Frick Mason. And just
+look at that clock--two minutes of nine." She pointed tragically up to the
+big clock. "And I promised to be at Alexia's--" The last words came back to
+him as she disappeared out to the veranda and down the steps, racing off as
+hard as she could.
+
+Frick got off from his chair, took three or four steps hopelessly, then
+stiffened up.
+
+"I'm going to find him," he announced to himself, and turning down the
+angle, he knocked at the first door on the left.
+
+"Hullo!" exclaimed Joel, unlocking the door and opening it.
+
+"Oh, you're here." Frick seized him on both sides, wishing he had twice the
+number of hands to employ; then he tried to run in, but Joel shook off the
+grasp, pushed to the door, only leaving the scantiest space to allow of
+conversation.
+
+"You can't come in," he said steadily.
+
+"Hold on! don't shut the door," cried Frick, pressing up closely and still
+endeavoring to get a good grasp on some of Joel's clothing. "Ow! you 'most
+smashed my nose, Joel Pepper."
+
+"You must take your nose away then," said Joel decidedly, "for I'm going to
+shut the door if you scrouge so."
+
+"Well, let me come in," said Frick, struggling violently. "Say, Joel, don't
+shut the door."
+
+For answer Joel slammed to the door, and the key clicked in the lock.
+
+"I said I'd do it, if you scrouged and pushed, and I must," he answered,
+with the air of a man performing his duty. "This is my Grandpapa's
+writing-room, and you mustn't come in, Frick Mason."
+
+Frick slid down to the floor and laid his mouth alongside the crack, with
+the feeling that his message would be more impressive delivered in that
+way, since he was not to be admitted to the apartment to give it in due
+form.
+
+"The boys want you, Joel; they're all waiting for us outside. Hurry up."
+Having delivered it, Frick got up to his feet in a hurry, confident that
+the door would be flung wide, to let Joel come hopping out in delight, and
+not choosing to be run over in the process.
+
+"Can't go," said Joel, in muffled accents, on the other side of the door.
+
+"What?" roared Frick, not believing his ears.
+
+"Can't go," repeated Joel. "Go right away from this door."
+
+"What did you say?" Frick slid to the floor again and beat his hands on the
+polished surface. "Say, Joel, we want you to come. We're all waiting for
+you, don't you understand?" He kept saying it over and over, under the
+impression that if he only repeated it enough, the door would open.
+
+"And I say I can't go," declared Joel, in a high, wrathful key. "If you
+don't go away and let this door alone, I'll come out and pound you."
+
+"We're going to the pond," said Frick, exactly as if responding to the most
+cordial request to furnish the plan. "We've got Larry's boat, and Webb is
+going to take his father's, and----"
+
+"Ow--go away!" roared Joel, in an awful voice.
+
+"And we're going to take our luncheon and stop at Egg Rock, and----"
+
+The door flew open wildly, and Joel leaped out over Frick, flattened on the
+floor.
+
+"Didn't I tell you to let me alone?" cried Joel, on top of the messenger,
+and pommeling away briskly, "Say, didn't I tell? Say, didn't I tell you?"
+
+The noise all this made was sufficient to bring Jane, who didn't stop to
+drop her broom.
+
+"My goodness me, Master Joel!" she said, running down from the
+stair-landing, "what are you doing?"
+
+"Pommeling him," said Joel cheerfully, and not looking up.
+
+"Well, you stop it this minute," commanded Jane, waving her broom over the
+two figures, for by this time Frick had managed to roll over and was now
+putting up quite a vigorous little fight in his own defense.
+
+"I can't," said Joel; "I promised him."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" cried Jane, bringing her broom down smartly on as much of
+the surface of either boy as was possible. "I'll scream for Mrs. Fisher if
+you don't stop, you two boys. I will, as true as anything!"
+
+"Oh, no, you mustn't, Jane," said Joel. His brown fists wavered in the air
+and described several circles before they fell at his side; seeing which,
+Frick slipped out from underneath him and began to belabor Joel to his
+heart's content. "You mustn't, Jane," howled Joel.
+
+"Now will you come." he cried. "Say, hurry up, Joe, we're all waiting. Come
+on!" His nose was quite bloody, and a dab here and there on his countenance
+gave him anything but a pleasing expression.
+
+"Ugh!" cried Jane, with a little shiver. "You boys get right straight up
+from this floor, or I'll tell Mrs. Fisher."
+
+Joel seized her apron string and howled:
+
+"Jane, don't!"
+
+"Yes, I will, too, Master Joel," declared Jane, twitching away the string;
+"for such carryings on, I never see. Oh, here's Mr. King; now he'll take
+care of you both," and she skipped upstairs, broom and all.
+
+It was useless to try to slip away unperceived, for old Mr. King bore down
+upon them along the hall in his stateliest fashion.
+
+"Dear me! what have we here?" as both boys slunk down as small as possible.
+"Why, Joel!"--it was impossible to convey greater astonishment in his
+tone--"I thought you were steady at work."
+
+"So I was," cried Joel, stung to the quick; and jumping to his feet, he
+fairly beat the old gentleman's arm with two distressed little palms, "and
+he made me come out. I said I would pound him, and I had to. Oh, Grandpapa,
+I had to," and he pranced wildly around the tall, stately figure.
+
+"Keep quiet, Joe," said the old gentleman, with a restraining hand; "and,
+Frick, get up. Oh, dear me!"--as Frick obeyed, bringing his interesting
+countenance to view, by no means improved by his efforts to wipe off the
+smears. "What have you boys been about?"
+
+"He wouldn't come out," said Frick, rubbing violently all over his round
+cheeks, "and the boys sent me for him, and they're waiting now," he
+finished, with a very injured air.
+
+"Eh--oh! and so they sent you for Joel?" said the old gentleman, a light
+breaking over his face.
+
+"Yes, sir," said Frick, with a final polish to his countenance on the cuff
+of his jacket sleeve, "and won't you please make Joel hurry up and come
+out, sir? We've waited so long."
+
+"And is that the way you respond to your invitations, my boy?" said
+Grandpapa, with a grim smile. "I shouldn't think you'd receive many at this
+rate. So you fell upon him because he asked you to go somewhere, eh?"--with
+a keen glance into the black eyes.
+
+"No, sir." said Joel, "but he wouldn't go away, and I told him if he
+didn't, I'd come out and pound him. So I had to."
+
+"Um--now let us see," said the old gentleman, reflecting a bit. "So you
+kept on at the door, eh, Frick?"
+
+"Yes, sir," said Frick, giving up his countenance as a bad job. "I had to,
+'cause the boys are waiting, you see, sir. Won't you please make Joe hurry
+up and come?"
+
+"Well, now, Frick, I really believe you better go out and tell those boys
+that when Joel gets ready to join them, he'll make his appearance.
+Good-bye, Frick." Grandpapa waved him off sociably, and Frick, not exactly
+understanding how, or why, found himself on the other side of the big front
+door, in the midst of the waiting company from which he had been picked out
+as messenger.
+
+"I wouldn't make such a promise again, if I were you, Joel," observed old
+Mr. King, gathering up the small, brown hand in one of his own; "it might
+be a little awkward to keep it, you know. Now, then, here we are,"--turning
+in at the writing-room. "Well, say no more, but fly at your task," and he
+seated himself in the big chair before the writing-table and took up his
+pen.
+
+Thus left to himself, Joel went slowly over to the set of shelves in the
+alcove, from which Frick's summons at the door had called him. There were
+several volumes on the floor, and a blank book and some sheets of paper,
+showing clearly Joe's favorite method of setting to work on making lists,
+while sprawled on the carpet with all his paraphernalia around him. He
+threw himself down amongst it all, prowled around for his pencil, which,
+suddenly dropped when he had deserted his task, had taken the opportunity
+to roll off by itself. Now it added to his discomfiture by hiding.
+
+"Plague take it!" He scowled, a black little frown settling on his brow.
+"Where is it?"--prowling around frantically on the carpet, with hasty
+hands.
+
+"What is it, Joe?" Old Mr. King, though apparently very busy over at the
+writing-table, seemed to be quite well aware of everything that went on in
+the alcove.
+
+"I've lost my pencil," announced Joe, in a dismal voice.
+
+"Oh, well, that's not so bad as it might be," said the old gentleman; "come
+over and get another, and by and by you can find your own."
+
+Joel advanced to the writing-table and put out a hand for the pencil, which
+the old gentleman laid within it, but not before he had taken a good look
+at the chubby face above it.
+
+"So Frick and the boys wanted you, eh?" asked Grandpapa carelessly. "Going
+somewhere, maybe?"
+
+"Yes," said Joel, not looking up, "they are going to the pond."
+
+"Oh, really?" said old Mr. King. "And you said no, eh, Joel?"
+
+"Yes," said Joel.
+
+"I suppose you didn't want to go, eh, Joel?" said the old gentleman
+carelessly, and playing with his paper knife.
+
+Joel's black eyes flew wide open, and he raised his head to stare into
+Grandpapa's face.
+
+"Oh, yes, I did, awfully."
+
+"Then why didn't you go?" asked Grandpapa, just as carelessly, and giving
+the paper knife an extra twirl or two.
+
+Joel took his gaze off, to regard the pile of books over on the alcove
+floor.
+
+"Oh, your work?--is that it, Joel?" asked the old gentleman. "So you
+thought you'd rather stay and finish your hour on it, eh, my boy?"
+
+Joel squirmed uneasily. "I hadn't rather," he said at last, "but I'd got
+to."
+
+"Eh?" said old Mr. King.
+
+"I said I'd work an hour and not stop," said Joel, as something seemed to
+be required of him, the old gentleman waiting for him to finish.
+
+"You mean you'd made the bargain to do this work and you couldn't back
+out?" said Grandpapa.
+
+Joel looked up and nodded quickly.
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"Oh, yes. Well, now, I mustn't hinder you from your work"--old Mr. King
+turned briskly to his writing again--"or I shall be as bad as Frick--eh,
+Joel?" and he laughed gayly. "Now trot back and go at your task again."
+
+So Joel, fortified with his pencil, marched back to sit on the floor in the
+alcove and take up his interrupted work, and Grandpapa's pen went
+scratching busily over the paper, and nothing else was heard except the
+buzzing of a big fly outside the window, venting his vexation at his
+inability to get in.
+
+Meanwhile Frick and the knot of boys had drawn off in astonishment and
+dismay at the failure of their plan to get Joel Pepper into the delightful
+expedition.
+
+"What was he doing?" demanded more than one boy.
+
+"I don't know," said Frick; "I couldn't get in."
+
+"Oh, now I know; he's got some secret," said Larry Keep, and he whirled
+around in vexation and snapped his fingers.
+
+"Maybe it's a flying-machine," suggested another boy.
+
+"Phoo! he couldn't make that in his grandfather's writing-room," said
+Larry, in derision, yet he looked anxious. Suppose Joel Pepper were really
+busy over such a splendid thing as that and hadn't told him. "Guess
+something else."
+
+"I can't think what it is," said Frick, sitting down on the curbstone to
+become lost in thought--an example to be speedily followed by all the boys,
+till finally there was a dismal row of them, without a thought remaining of
+having the expedition on the pond, since Joel Pepper wouldn't come with
+them.
+
+
+
+
+XV
+
+UP IN ALEXIA'S PRETTY ROOM
+
+
+Polly was having a bad half-hour with herself, despite all the attractions
+up in Alexia's pretty room.
+
+"It's no use," she cried, throwing down the little brush with which she was
+whisking off the dainty bureau-cover. The girls were "setting up" the
+various adornments that were plentifully strewn about, an occupation that
+Polly dearly loved, and that Alexia as dearly hated. "I must go home."
+
+Alexia, down on her knees, with her head in the closet, grumbling over the
+shoe bag, whose contents were in a chronic state of overflow, pulled it out
+suddenly.
+
+"Why, Polly Pepper!" she exclaimed, in an injured tone. One eye was draped
+by a cobweb, gained by diving into the closet's extreme corner after a
+missing slipper, gone for some weeks; and in other ways Alexia's face
+presented a very unprepossessing appearance. "You said you'd help me with
+my room this morning."
+
+"Oh, yes, I know," said Polly hurriedly, and running over to Alexia; "but
+you'll let me off, won't you?--for I've something on my mind. Oh, dear me!"
+
+Alexia hopped up to her feet, the slipper flying off at a tangent, and ran
+all around Polly Pepper, gazing at her anxiously.
+
+"I don't see anything. Oh, what is it?" she cried.
+
+"You see, the boys wanted to find Joel, and I--" began Polly, twisting her
+fingers.
+
+"Bother the boys!" exclaimed Alexia, interrupting. "Is that all? They are
+everlastingly wanting to find Joel. Well"--with a sigh of relief--"we can
+go back to work again. Why, I must say, Polly, you scared me 'most to
+death. Oh, dear me! I wish I had let Norah sweep this old closet when she
+does the room. It's dirty as can be. If Aunt knew it--" The rest of it was
+lost, as Alexia was down on her knees again, her head back in the closet,
+with the hope of unearthing more slippers and shoes.
+
+"Alexia, do come out," cried Polly, pulling her gown smartly; "I must speak
+to you."
+
+"Can't," said Alexia, rummaging away. "There, I've gone and knocked down my
+blue silk waist! Do pick it up, Polly; it 'll get all dirt, and then won't
+Aunt scold!"
+
+As if to make matters worse, a voice out in the hall was heard:
+
+"_Alexia?_"
+
+"Misery me!" cried Alexia, scuffling out backward from the closet, the blue
+silk waist on her head where it had fallen, and in her sudden exit nearly
+overthrowing Polly Pepper. "Here comes Aunt. Shut the door, Polly--shut
+it"--scrambling with both hands to get the waist off, while a hook caught
+in her light, fluffy hair. And Miss Rhys being too near the door for any
+such protection as Alexia suggested, in she walked.
+
+"What in the world!" She lifted both hands. "Alexia Rhys, is it possible! I
+concluded not to go down-town, and came back, and to think of this--playing
+with your best silk waist!"
+
+"I'm not playing," declared Alexia, in a sharp key, tossing back from her
+head as much of the waist as she could, "and it hurts awfully"--twitching
+angrily at the hook.
+
+Polly sprang to her assistance.
+
+"Wait a minute, and I'll get you out," she said.
+
+"And I won't wait," cried Alexia loudly; "it's bad enough to be hooked to
+death with a horrid old ugly waist, without being scolded to pieces by your
+aunt."
+
+"Oh, Alexia!" exclaimed Miss Rhys, "to call that beautiful waist an ugly
+thing!"
+
+"And I'll pull every spear of hair out of my head, but I'll get the thing
+off. Ow!"--as she began to put her threat into execution.
+
+"Do be still, Alexia," begged Polly, trying to push aside the nervous
+fingers.
+
+"I won't be still," cried Alexia, casting up a pale eye full of wrath on
+the side next to Polly, and giving another twitch. "I guess if you'd been
+hooked up by a horrible old thing, and your aunt came in and scolded you
+terribly, you wouldn't wait. Ow! Oh, dear me!"
+
+"Then," said Polly, standing quite still, "since you won't let me help you,
+I'm going home, Alexia."
+
+"Oh, don't," cried Alexia, and she dropped her hands to her side in a
+flash, the blue silk waist dangling to her head by its hook. "I'll let you
+help whatever you want to, Polly," she mumbled meekly.
+
+So Polly set to work, Miss Rhys slipping out of the room. Although Alexia's
+nervous fingers were now not in the way, still, it wasn't easy to
+disentangle the hook from the thick, fluffy hair, wound in as it was.
+
+"You've tangled it all up," said Polly, bending over it with flushed face,
+her fingers working busily, "and it's all in a snarl. Dear me! do I hurt?"
+
+"No, never mind," said Alexia; "'tisn't any matter. Don't go home, Polly."
+She held her fast by the gown.
+
+"No, of course not," said Polly; "at least not until I get this hook out of
+your hair. There--oh, dear me! I thought it was quite free. Well, anyway,
+now it is!" She held up the blue silk waist with a triumphant little
+flourish, over her own head. "It must be awful to have something fastened
+to you like that," she said, sympathetically, as she placed the waist on
+the bed with a sigh of relief.
+
+"Well, I guess you'd think so," assented Alexia decidedly; "it's too
+perfectly awful for anything. It pulls like a big vulture with his talons
+holding your hair." She hopped to her feet and shook herself in delight,
+her long, light braids flying out gayly. "Well, I am glad that Aunt has
+gone"--looking around the room, and drawing a long breath.
+
+Polly Pepper stood quite still over by the bed.
+
+"Well--heigh-ho--come on," cried Alexia, dancing over to seize her arm;
+"let's have a spin." But Polly didn't move.
+
+"Come on, Polly," cried Alexia, with another tug at her arm.
+
+"No," said Polly, "I can't, Alexia."
+
+"What in the world is the matter?" cried Alexia, dropping her arm to stare
+at her.
+
+"I think your aunt--" began Polly.
+
+"Oh, Aunt!" interrupted Alexia impatiently. "You're always talking about
+her, Polly Pepper, and she's everlastingly picking at me, so I have a
+perfectly dreadful time, between you two."
+
+"Well, she is your aunt," said Polly, not offering to stir.
+
+"I can't help it." Alexia, for the want of something better to do, ran over
+and twitched the table cover straight. "And I know she's my aunt, but she
+needn't pick at me all the time," she added defiantly. She looked
+uncomfortable all the same, and ran about here and there trying to get
+things in their places, but knocking down more than were tidied up. "Why
+don't you say something?" she cried impatiently, whirling around.
+
+"Because I've nothing to say," replied Polly, not moving.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" Alexia sent her long arms out with a despairing gesture. "I
+suppose I've just got to go and tell Aunt I'm sorry." She drew a long
+breath. "But I hadn't been playing; I was tired to death over that dirty
+old closet and that tiresome shoe bag, and my hair all hooked up. Well, do
+come on." She ran over and held out her hand. "Come with me," she begged.
+
+So Polly put her hand in Alexia's, and together they ran out into the hall,
+to the maiden aunt's room.
+
+"It's perfectly dreadful to board," said Alexia, on the way. "I wouldn't
+care how little the house was, if Aunt and I could only have one," and she
+gave a great sigh.
+
+Polly turned suddenly and gave her a big hug.
+
+"Mamsie says you are to come over to our house just as often as possible.
+So does Grandpapa," she cried hastily; "you know that, Alexia."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Alexia, but she was highly gratified at every
+repetition of the invitation. "Well, oh, dear me!"--as they stood before
+Miss Rhys' door.
+
+That lady sat in her bay window, her fingers busy with her embroidery, and
+her mind completely filled with plans for another piece when that
+particular one should be completed.
+
+"I'm sorry, Aunt," said Alexia, plunging up to the chair and keeping tight
+hold of Polly Pepper's hand.
+
+"Oh!" said Miss Rhys, looking up. "Why, how your hair does look, Alexia!"
+
+Up flew Alexia's other hand to her head.
+
+"Well, it's been all hooked up," she said.
+
+"And I'll brush it for you," said Polly, at her shoulder.
+
+"That'll be fine," cried Alexia, with a comfortable wriggle of her long
+figure. "Oh, I'm sorry, Aunt."
+
+"Very well," said Miss Rhys, turning back to her embroidery again. "And,
+Alexia, your room looks very badly. I'm astonished that you are so untidy,
+when I talk to you about it so much."
+
+"Well, Polly is helping me fix it up," said Alexia, drawing off and pulling
+Polly along.
+
+"Now, you see, Polly"--as the two girls were safe once more in the little
+room, this time with the door shut--"I only got some more pickings by going
+to Aunt."
+
+"Hush," said Polly, "she will hear you.'
+
+"How is she going to hear with the door shut, pray tell?" cried Alexia,
+with a giggle. "Well, it's over with now. Let's fly at this horrid old
+room. Dear me!"--as she ran by the window--"do just see those dreadful
+boys."
+
+At the word "boys" Polly ran too, and peeped over her shoulder.
+
+"Oh, I must speak to Frick," and without more warning, she raced out of the
+room, and down the front stairs.
+
+"Polly, Polly Pepper!" But Polly being out in the street and nearly up to
+the knot of boys, Alexia gave up calling and speedily ran after her, to
+hear her say:
+
+"Oh, Frick, I'll go and try to find Joel for you."
+
+Frick disentangled himself from the group.
+
+"I found Joel myself," he said, "and he wouldn't come."
+
+"Wouldn't come where?" demanded Alexia breathlessly, plunging up.
+
+"Out on the pond." It was Larry Keep who answered.
+
+"And so we've given it all up," said another boy, very dismally.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Alexia, "how tiresome of Joel!"
+
+"Oh, no, no," protested Polly, shaking her head. "I know Joel couldn't go,
+or else he would. You know that, boys," she said, looking anxiously at them
+all.
+
+"He's always been before," said Larry, in a dudgeon, "and I don't see what
+makes him act so now."
+
+"Well, you haven't any right to abuse him, just because he doesn't want to
+go out with you on the pond," said Alexia warmly, veering round at the
+first word of blame of Joel from anybody else. "That's a great way to do, I
+must say."
+
+"And, boys, you know Joel would have gone if he could, don't you?" said
+Polly again, the little anxious pucker deepening on her forehead.
+
+"Ye--es," said Larry slowly, digging the toe of his tennis shoe into the
+ground, as no one else said anything.
+
+"Oh, he would, he would," said Polly, clasping her hands tightly together,
+the color flying over her cheek. "Something must have happened to keep him
+back"--as the boys, having nothing more to say, moved off. "Alexia, now I
+_must_ go home, for I'm afraid--" of what, she didn't say.
+
+"I'll go, too," said Alexia, springing after her, wild to find out what the
+matter could be with Joel Pepper, to keep him from one of his favorite
+sports on the pond.
+
+"There isn't anything the matter with him," shouted back Frick, over his
+shoulder, who had caught Polly's last words. "And he could have gone as
+easy as not; he was in Mr. King's writing-room with the door locked."
+
+"Grandpapa's writing-room, with the door locked!" repeated Polly, turning
+around in a puzzled way. "Why--I don't see--oh!" Then she gave such a
+squeal that Alexia hopped across the road in astonishment. "I know now.
+Dear, splendid, old Joel! Boys!" She was up by them again, and talking so
+fast that nobody understood for a moment or two what the whole thing was
+about.
+
+"For pity's sake, Polly Pepper!" Alexia was shaking her arm, the boys
+crowding around Polly and hanging on every word.
+
+"Don't you understand? Oh, how stupid I've been not to think of it
+before!--though I didn't know he was to begin this very morning," cried
+Polly, hurrying on, all in a glow. "Grandpapa has engaged Joel to do some
+work for him on his books"--Polly didn't think she ought to explain any
+further about the ten-dollar note--"and so Joel thought he couldn't stop
+till the hour was up, and----"
+
+"Has he got to work an hour on 'em at a time?" interrupted Larry in
+amazement, pushing his way nearer to Polly.
+
+"Yes," said Polly, turning her rosy face on him, so glad that she was
+really making them see that Joel couldn't go with them when he was asked,
+"he must work a whole hour at a time on them, so you see he really had to
+stay back." But this part was lost on the whole group.
+
+"Hi--hi!" they shouted, and Larry flung up his cap. "Well, if that's so,
+we'll go back and get him now; the hour must be up," and off they raced,
+flinging up a cloud of dust from their heels.
+
+"Whew!" exclaimed Alexia. "Did you ever see such perfectly dreadful boys to
+kick up such a dust? Oh, dear me, Polly Pepper. Ker-choo!"
+
+When she came out of her sneezing fit, Polly was saying again:
+
+"Oh, how perfectly stupid I am, Alexia!"
+
+But her eyes shone, for it was now all right for Joel with the boys.
+
+
+
+
+XVI
+
+THE ACCIDENT
+
+
+But the boys didn't get back after Joel--not just then. A big tallyho
+coach, in swinging around a corner, bore down upon the struggling crowd,
+the driver halloing and the horn blowing lustily, by way of a signal to
+clear the road. This would have been all well enough and easy to avoid, if
+a string of bicyclists had not selected that very identical moment to
+appear from the opposite direction. And Larry, whose uncle was in the
+last-mentioned procession, having a laudable desire to see him and make his
+relation aware of the fact, turned, waved his cap and his arms with a, "Hi,
+there, Uncle Jack!" and in another second was under the big wheels, the
+whole merry party going over him and the laughter and chat still filling
+the air.
+
+Miss Mary Taylor, having an outside seat, looked over quickly. Hamilton
+Dyce, sitting next, clambered down.
+
+"Don't be frightened," he said into her pale face.
+
+Half a dozen men were on the ground with him, and the boys swarmed around
+wildly, getting in everybody's way. The bicyclists, not catching the idea
+of any accident, were swiftly coasting down the hill, for after all their
+leader had suddenly changed his mind and veered off just before reaching
+the scene of the accident.
+
+"Help me down," said Miss Taylor hoarsely.
+
+"Ugh, don't!" said Beth Cameron, with a shiver, poking her parasol well
+down over her eyes. "I wouldn't see it for all the world"--shivering.
+
+"You can't do any good; better not," said Mr. Dyce, looking up at Miss
+Taylor.
+
+But Miss Mary continued to say, "Help me down," and she so evidently
+displayed the intention of getting down without any assistance if it
+weren't forthcoming, that Mr. Dyce did as he was bidden, and she was on the
+spot by the time that Larry was drawn out from under the wheels and laid on
+the roadside grass.
+
+"I'm afraid he's done for, poor beggar," said one of the men.
+
+Mr. Dyce turned Miss Mary completely around and marched her off to the
+middle of the road before she knew that such summary treatment was to be
+accorded her. Then she caught her breath.
+
+"You needn't think to save me," she said, with a little gasp: "I'm--I'm
+quite strong. I must go. Oh, don't stop me. Think of poor Mrs. Keep!" and
+she was back in among the group of men and the frantic boys. "Send for
+Doctor Fisher," she cried, kneeling down by Larry's side.
+
+"No use--" began another man, but Hamilton Dyce cried, "Which one can run
+the fastest for Doctor Fisher?"
+
+Little Porter Knapp could, there was no doubt of that. All arms and legs
+was he, and able to get over more ground a minute than any other boy of
+their set, not excepting Joel Pepper. So, before Mr. Dyce had finished
+speaking, he was off like a shot, leaving Miss Taylor sitting on the grass
+holding Larry's poor head, while the whole crowd of men revolved around
+her, nervous to do something, but not seeing their way clear to find out
+what would be expedient.
+
+"If those chaps would stop howling!" exclaimed one of the men, in
+desperation, stalking off a bit to cram his hands in his pocket, and
+ejaculate this to a companion.
+
+"It's pretty hard on the kids," remarked the friend, with a glance over his
+shoulder at Frick and the rest of the boys, who added to the misery by
+crowding up to the scene and impeding the progress of all would-be helpers.
+
+"He's dead, it's easy to see," observed the first man, nodding over to the
+group.
+
+"That's a fact, it looks like it," nodded the friend. "Well, it's a bad
+thing, but no one's at fault. Mac couldn't help it. The little beggar ran
+right under the horses."
+
+"Oh, Mac's not to blame," said the first speaker hastily, "but it's an
+awful calamity just the same, to run down a kid. Well, we must pacify the
+ladies." So the two walked back and up to the side of the coach, when the
+big hats under the parasols leaned over and allowed their fair owners to be
+diverted with all sorts of comforting things. And presently little Doctor
+Fisher came rushing along in his gig, out of which sprang Porter Knapp
+before the horse could be persuaded to stop.
+
+[Illustration: "Oh, Larry," said Miss Taylor gently, bending over him.]
+
+No one said a word, least of all Miss Taylor, except the Doctor, who
+ordered them to right and to left, as assistants. And before long, Larry
+opened his blue eyes.
+
+"Why--where?" he began. He didn't even know he had been hurt--not till
+afterward when the pain and suffering set in.
+
+"Easy--easy there," said little Doctor Fisher.
+
+"Great Scott!" The young man who had pronounced him dead crammed those
+hands of his deeper yet in their pockets and gave a whistle.
+
+"Oh, Larry," said Miss Taylor gently, bending over him.
+
+"What is it?" Larry tried to move, and felt a strong hand laid on him just
+where it made any motion impossible. Beside, a great wave of pain swept him
+suddenly into such astonishment as well as suffering that all he could do
+was to shut his eyes and let his head sink back.
+
+"Now, then!" Doctor Fisher glanced up to the coach-load. "All of you get
+down," he said curtly, and before the women quite knew how, the pretty
+gowns and hats and parasols were all descending, a gay, fluttering bevy all
+chattering together.
+
+"Miss Mary, I'll trouble you to hop up there," and a dozen hands helped her
+into position on the coach. "Now, then, Mr. Dyce, and you"; he nodded over
+to Harry Delafield, the little doctor did, then rapidly picked out two more
+men. "Up with you, please," and quicker than it takes to tell it all, they
+were in position, and Larry had been lifted gently into their laps, his
+head on Miss Taylor's arm.
+
+"Ugh!" Betty Cameron gave a worse shiver than before. "How Mary Taylor
+can!" she exclaimed, with a grimace. "Oh, dear me! I'm as faint as I can
+be, just to think of it. I should die outright to be up there with him."
+
+"Well, we've got to walk home, I suppose," observed one of the other girls
+disconsolately, who, now that Larry could really speak, thought it quite
+time to turn attention to her own discomfort, and she thrust out her dainty
+shoe.
+
+The boys, when they saw that Larry was really alive, stopped howling,
+especially as each and all had felt the glare of the eyes back of Doctor
+Fisher's big spectacles. And they set off on a run by the side of the
+coach, and as far ahead of that vehicle as possible, as Mac handled the
+ribbons with his best style, trying to drive as gently as possible for the
+patient.
+
+"To his home, of course," said the little doctor, turning his spectacles up
+to Mac. Then he got into his gig, whipped up, and took the lead.
+
+Porter Knapp went across streets and got there first and was leaning over
+the stone gateway when the little doctor's gig drove up.
+
+"Eh!" exclaimed Doctor Fisher, looking at him over his glasses. "Well, you
+have a pair of legs! Joel was right; he says you beat everything in
+running."
+
+Porter looked much pleased and glanced down at his legs affectionately.
+Then he remembered Larry and sobered at once.
+
+Doctor Fisher, while going up the steps, said in passing:
+
+"Larry'll pull through all right, I think."
+
+"She's here," cried Porter suddenly. He had heard the words, but something
+had abruptly come in between, and he wildly dashed at the little doctor.
+Doctor Fisher turned around and saw, flourishing up to the gateway, a gay
+little runabout, and in it Larry's mother and sister.
+
+"My goodness!" He was down by its side. And off in the distance, but coming
+surely and steadily on, was the coach bearing Larry to his home.
+
+"Yes, yes, how do you do? Don't stop," cried the little doctor, waving his
+hand that was free from his bag of instruments; "go on to the stable."
+
+"Oh, no, I'll stop here." Mrs. Keep had her foot on the step, and put out
+the hand not occupied with her flowing draperies. "Eleanor is going on to
+see a friend. Well, how do you do?"
+
+"You had better drive on to the stable," said the little doctor, "both of
+you."
+
+This time he had such an imperative manner that, thoroughly bewildered,
+Mrs. Keep stepped back into her seat and motioned Eleanor to obey.
+
+"Isn't he awfully funny!" said Eleanor, turning in at the driveway, more
+puzzled, if possible, than her mother.
+
+"Yes," said Mrs. Keep, "he is, but then I suppose he has a good deal on his
+mind. You know they say his practice is getting to be tremendous. Well, we
+must run in and see him," as they drove down to the stable. "And you can go
+afterward to see Mary Taylor."
+
+[Illustration: "Yes, sir," called Joel back, from the alcove.]
+
+"All right," said Eleanor, and one of the stable boys coming out to meet
+the pony, they both jumped out of the runabout and ran up the back veranda
+steps.
+
+"It's funny he didn't come down this way, if he wanted us to drive to the
+stable," cried Eleanor. "Mamma, do say you think it's queer. It would be
+some comfort if you would."
+
+"Well, I will, then," laughed Mrs. Keep, and there stood Doctor Fisher at
+the dining-room door, and the minute she saw his face she knew that
+something dreadful had happened.
+
+"Well, Joel, my boy." Old Mr. King, who had been consulting his watch every
+five minutes, whirled around in his big chair. "Time to lay down the work,"
+he called cheerily.
+
+"Yes, sir," called Joel back, from the alcove.
+
+"And I'm sure if ever an hour was long, this last one has been," the old
+gentleman was saying to himself. Joel, who was rather stiff in the joints
+when first getting up from his work on the carpet, now came out feeling his
+arms, and then indulging in a good long stretch.
+
+"It seems rather good--eh, Joe?--to swing your arms," cried Grandpapa with
+a laugh, and a keen glance into the black eyes.
+
+"Yes, _sir,_" declared Joel, with another stretch, and wondering if
+ever anything was so good in this world as to be told the hour was up.
+
+"Take care," warned the old gentleman; "those long arms of yours will have
+things off from my table. My goodness, Joe! you must really go out of doors
+and stretch, you make such a sweep," and he laughed again.
+
+"I can reach so far." Joel ran all around the table and stretched out his
+brown arms. "See, Grandpapa," he cried; then he got on his tiptoes and
+leaned over to achieve greater and more astonishing results.
+
+"You'll be over on your nose, if I don't rescue you and the things on my
+table," said Mr. King, bursting into a heartier laugh than ever. "Come on,
+Joey, my boy, let's get out of doors, in a larger place." So he gathered up
+one of the sprawling sets of fingers, and summarily marched him out.
+
+"Now I suppose the next thing in order is to race after Frick and those
+boys," observed old Mr. King, when the garden walk was attained.
+
+"Yes, sir," cried Joel, his black eyes alight and his feet dancing.
+
+"Well, be off with you."
+
+No need to say more; Joel's heels beat the hastiest of retreats, as he
+scuttled off at the liveliest pace of which he was capable.
+
+Old Mr. King, left alone, nodded to himself two or three times, and smiled
+in a pleased way. "The very thing," he said at last, and in as great
+satisfaction as if he had been talking to a good listener.
+
+
+
+
+XVII
+
+JOEL'S ADVENTURE
+
+
+Joel rushed along at a breakneck pace to make up for lost time. How good it
+was to sniff the fresh air, and to be free, and then to think of that hour
+put into solid work over the book-list! Why, he glowed all over with
+delight at the very thought.
+
+"Whoopity-la!" Down the bank of Spy Pond into one of the curves most
+frequented by the boys of his set, he ran. "My! but I'm glad to get here,
+though! Hey, there?"
+
+There was no response as Joel dashed into what the boys called their camp,
+a rough enclosure the wealthy men who owned the pond on the outskirts of
+the town had allowed to be built. As some of the boys were their own sons,
+every indulgence in the way of using the pond had been granted, and Mr.
+Horatio King being the largest owner and the most indulgent, Joel's set, to
+a boy, decided to call it the "King Camp." It was in a knot of pines, and
+in the summer was a most attractive place, overrun with vines and creepers
+and gay with the colored boat-cushions that were always thrown about.
+
+"Hey there!" shouted Joel again, running about within and without the
+little wooden structure. "Are you all deaf? Hey--whoopity-la!" but nobody
+answered, save a little bird from the tip of the tallest tree.
+
+Joel stood transfixed with amazement; then he dashed off suddenly down a
+descent to the little cove. "It must be that they are out on the pond," he
+said to himself, in vexation, and he craned his neck and peered up and down
+the shining water as well as he was able for the many curves. "But I don't
+see how they can be, for Larry's boat is here"--he had dashed up again to
+the camp--"and Mr. Hersey's, that's the one they would take"--surveying the
+collection of rowboats and dories drawn up on the beach--"and Webb's
+father's and Porter Knapp's." Besides, there was a goodly number of others,
+all in such situations as by no means suggested a party expected to be on
+the pond at short notice that morning.
+
+"Well, I'm going out, anyway," declared Joel, snapping his fingers, "and
+catch up with them. Most likely they've taken the fishing-tackle; I won't
+stop for that." So, pushing off his row-boat, he picked up the oars and
+headed down the pond in the direction most likely in his mind to overtake
+them.
+
+But although he pulled lustily at his oars and ran his boat in and out the
+curves and hallooed and shouted, he didn't catch a glimpse of them; and the
+pine groves and wooded glens that ran down to the curving bank only echoed
+his own calls, or sent a bird note out to him. There wasn't the first
+suggestion of a boy anywhere about.
+
+"Where in the world are they?" cried Joel in vexation, resting on his oars.
+"Hi--there they are!" He turned suddenly, knocked against one of the oars,
+it slipped, and before he knew what it was about, there it was in the
+water. And to make matters worse, the sound that had filled him with
+delight proved to be a big, black dog, scrambling through a thicket of
+underbrush, and coming out to stare at him from the edge of the pond.
+
+"Oh, you beggar!" exclaimed Joel, not to the dog, but to the oar drifting
+off quickly. It was an easy thing, however, so he thought, to recover it,
+and he made no special haste to paddle along as best he might after it.
+Just at this moment another boat came suddenly in sight around a curve. It
+didn't hold Joel's friends, but a wholly different set, some city boys who
+had no rights on the pond. And having stolen their opportunity, and helped
+themselves to a boat down below, they meant to have as good a time as
+possible, knowing it would probably be their last. So here was a grand
+chance, a boy alone in a rowboat, and at their mercy, one of his oars
+drifting off.
+
+"Hi--fellows!" When they saw it, they yelled with glee.
+
+The black dog on the bank, who belonged to them and was following, as best
+he might, their course, danced about and gnashed his teeth in his rage that
+he couldn't join actively in the excitement, sniffing at the water and
+drawing back as it lapped his feet.
+
+"Now then, look alive," cried the one who appeared to be the leader, and
+the whole crew bent to their oars with a right good will; and grinning all
+over their faces with the prospect of fun ahead, they made straight for
+Joel in his boat.
+
+Joel drew himself up, his black eyes flashing, and paddled with all his
+might. But it was no use; his boat went round and round, or zigzagged
+along, and in a trice the unlucky oar was seized by the triumphant crew, as
+it was drifting off into some lily pads, and drawn with a worse yell than
+ever into their boat. Good luck! here would be easy game!
+
+"Now then!" There was no limit to their delight as they saluted Joel in
+every conceivable way best fitted to get him worked up. "How are you, snob?
+Don't you want your oar?" and such things, every boy contributing at least
+a few selections to the general hubbub, the black dog on the bank emitting
+shrill, ear-splitting barks of distress.
+
+"Give me back my oar," roared Joel, sitting very straight and unconsciously
+rolling up his sleeves.
+
+"Hi there! Come on and fight, if you want to," cried several of the crew,
+with sneers and catcalls, and they brandished the oar at him over their
+heads, yelling, "Why don't you come on and fight?"
+
+[Illustration: The unlucky oar was seized by the triumphant crew]
+
+"If you don't give me back my oar," cried Joel angrily, and paddling for
+dear life toward them, "it 'll be worse for you, I can tell you. My
+Grandpapa----"
+
+He was drowned in a storm of yells: "Your granddaddy? Fellows, this baby is
+talking of his granddaddy," and they screamed in derision, snapping their
+fingers and swinging the oar as high as they could tantalizingly at him.
+
+Round and round went Joel's boat, describing a series of curves, that
+despite all his efforts only carried him away from his tormentors. What he
+would have done, had he reached them, hadn't entered his head, his only
+thought being to get up to them. In the midst of this interesting
+proceeding, a sharp clap of thunder reverberated over their heads, to be
+almost immediately followed by a piercing gleam of lightning. It produced
+the greatest consternation in the boat-load, and a sudden jump on the part
+of nearly every boy in it, made it careen, then turn completely over, and
+before they were fully aware, every single one was in the water, screaming
+and struggling wildly.
+
+In the upset Joel's oar had been carried out, too; and as it happened to
+drift toward him, he leaned over the side of his boat, managing to reach it
+with the other one.
+
+"Don't catch hold of each other," he yelled, his mind intent on helping
+some of them into his boat. But as well talk to the wind. The boys who
+couldn't swim--and most of them were in that plight--were grabbing this way
+and that, to seize upon anything that would give them a support.
+
+"Catch hold of your boat," roared Joel at them. But instead of that, some
+of them preferred to catch hold of his, the consequence being that it would
+soon have been upset, had he not screamed at them (and they knew he meant
+it), "I'll bang you across the head if you try it"--lifting his oar
+sturdily.
+
+"You fellows who can swim, hold up the others, and I'll take you all off to
+the bank, if you won't crowd."
+
+And seeing that this was all they could get, and that Joel was as good as
+his word, one after another was helped in, the others wisely catching hold
+of the overturned boat--an example speedily followed, till all were either
+in Joel's boat and rowing quickly off to shore, or hanging to their own
+craft.
+
+The leader of the crew huddled sheepishly down over his oar, which Joel
+handed him to do some of the rowing, and he didn't look at the owner of the
+boat, till, just as they neared the bank, he glanced up suddenly and said:
+
+"Say, you, I s'pose you'll tell on us."
+
+"What do you take me for?" cried Joel, in extreme disgust, and plying his
+oar briskly. All this time the rain had come down in torrents, till there
+wasn't much difference between the boys who had been in the water and the
+one who had kept out, and the lightning played over their heads in
+unpleasant zigzag streaks, and the thunder rolled and rumbled.
+
+The leader shivered and ducked till he couldn't by any possibility be said
+to look at Joel.
+
+"Well, I would if I was you." The words came in a burst from a boy supposed
+to be in such a half-drowned condition that he wouldn't care to take part
+in any conversation, who was crouched down in the bottom of the boat. "I'd
+tell every single thing about it." He raised himself and shook his fist at
+the leader's very face. "If it hadn't been for you, Mike," he said, "we
+wouldn't have come."
+
+"Don't fight," said Joel, in consternation at any such settling of their
+differences in his boat; "you'll upset us all."
+
+"Humph!" the boy in the bottom of the boat sneered. "He won't fight, Mike
+won't," he said.
+
+And really Mike didn't look as if he would, for he crouched and cowered
+lower yet, till Joel began to say, "Give me the oar," for it wabbled so
+that it played a small part only in getting the craft to the shore.
+
+"Some other fellow take it," said the boy who had done all the talking. "I
+would"--he lifted a red and ashamed face--"only my arm----"
+
+"Is it hurt?" asked Joel, rescuing the other oar from Mike, whose nerves
+seemed to have all gone to pieces.
+
+"D'no; never mind," said the other boy, looking more ashamed still. "Here,
+Jimmy, you take the oar, and row lively now." So, with Jimmy's help, the
+boat ran up to the bank.
+
+"There you are," cried Joel, as they were dumped out, to keep company with
+the big, black dog, who sniffed them contemptuously and walked around their
+dripping bodies as they sank on the bank. This wasn't the kind of fun he
+had meant when he followed his master out, and not at all to his taste.
+
+But Joel was just in his element, and when he brought the rest off from the
+overturned boat, he couldn't conceal his satisfaction.
+
+"Some one has got to tell about that boat." He pointed to the overturned
+one.
+
+"I knew you would blab." Mike turned, his shame disappearing, to grow red
+with passion.
+
+"Shut up." It was the other boy that roared at him, who, injured arm or
+not, could somehow inspire the former leader with fear. "I'm going to tell
+myself; an' if any of you fellows has got spunk, he'll tell, too." It was
+such a battle cry that Mike's head went down. He knew as well as afterward
+that his leadership was gone, and that every one of the crew had gone over
+to the other boy.
+
+"Hi--yes, we'll tell." If Jack, their new leader, could decide to, they
+would follow him, and they yelled it out much better than any one would
+suppose possible after their fright, turning their backs on Mike.
+
+"That's good," said Joel, bobbing his black curls, from which the rain was
+streaming, at the whole bunch of boys in approval, and taking up his oars
+he prepared to move off. "If you'll only tell about the boat."
+
+"Oh, I say"--Jack seeing that he was now the recognized leader, was going
+to do the whole thing up in good shape--"we're much obliged, and who are
+you, anyway?" he broke off awkwardly.
+
+
+"I'm Mr. King's grandson," said Joel "Well, good-bye."
+
+"Mr. King's!" Jack gave a roll over and groveled in the wet moss. "Oh, it's
+all up with us, fellows," he groaned. The black dog, who belonged to him,
+came and licked him all over, glaring between whiles at Joel, as if he were
+the cause of the whole trouble. The bunch of boys said nothing, but
+shivered in silence.
+
+"Well, good-bye," said Joel, as he pushed off, feeling it necessary for
+some one to speak, "and I hope you haven't hurt your arm much," to the
+recumbent figure.
+
+"Don't let him hurt these chaps--your grandfather I mean." Jack threw up
+his head and pointed to the boys. "Only get Mike licked. We'd all of us
+like that."
+
+"What?" cried Joel over his shoulder, stopping his busy oars.
+
+"Why, when you tell him how mean we used you, don't let him get those chaps
+into trouble, 'cause----"
+
+"When I tell him!" cried Joel. "What do you mean?"
+
+"Why, of course you'll tell him," blurted Jack. Mike had taken to his heels
+and was making quick tracks with his sodden shoes through the undergrowth.
+Things were not going to his taste now.
+
+"See here." Joel made quick passes now with the oars, and brought his boat
+up alongside the bank. "I'm not going to tell my Grandpapa about what
+you've done, 'Tisn't any matter."
+
+"You ain't?" cried Jack, getting up so quickly he upset the next boy, who
+rolled over the big, black dog. "Great Scott! You ain't going to tell the
+old gentleman?"
+
+"No," said Joel, "I don't care anything about it; you didn't hurt me any."
+
+"Well, if I ever!" It was all that Jack, the leader, could get out. And
+Joel, seeing there was nothing to wait for, set to work again, and
+presently amid the rain and the lightning gleams, his boat was only a
+little speck on the surface of the pond, as viewed by the group of boys on
+the bank.
+
+
+
+
+XVIII
+
+THE COMFORT COMMITTEE
+
+
+"Oh, Mary!" Eleanor Keep seized Miss Taylor's arm and burst into tears.
+When she could speak she gasped, "What is it, Mary?"
+
+"Hush!" warned Mary Taylor, drawing her off into the little reception-room.
+"Your mother--we must think of her, Nell."
+
+"Mr. Delafield is telling her something. I know it is dreadful." Eleanor
+sank upon the sofa, dragging Mary Taylor with her. "Oh, I shall die if you
+don't tell me right off what _has_ happened, Mary."
+
+"Not a word shall you hear until you can control yourself," declared Miss
+Taylor, wresting herself away from the nervous grasp, and running over to
+the door she closed it. "Now then, Nell, are you a sensible girl?"--coming
+back.
+
+Eleanor flung herself down on the sofa, and sobbed:
+
+"Oh, I know Larry is dead and you are trying to keep it from me."
+
+"Larry is not dead," said Mary Taylor.
+
+"Well, he is terribly hurt," said Eleanor, between her sobs. "Oh dear, my
+only brother, Larry!"
+
+Mary Taylor got down on her knees by the sofa, and took the poor head up to
+let her own tears fall over it.
+
+"Why, you are crying yourself," exclaimed Eleanor, feeling the drops
+trickle down her neck. "And you told me not to. Why, Mary Taylor!"
+
+"Of course I am," said Mary. "Now see here: we are both of us very wrong to
+give way in this fashion; we ought to be seeing to your mother. Get up,
+Eleanor," and she sprang to her feet. "There, that's right. Come on."
+
+Some one rapped at the side door, and the confusion in the house calling
+the maids from their duty, the butler belonging to the establishment of the
+next neighbor, Mrs. Sterling, popped in his head.
+
+"Excuse me, Miss," he said to Mary Taylor, Eleanor being beyond a reply.
+"Mrs. Sterling has sent for you ladies to come in there and stay until the
+doctors are through."
+
+At the word "doctors" Eleanor shivered and covered her eyes.
+
+"The very thing," said Mary Taylor; "we'll get your mother in there"; and
+with a message back to Mrs. Sterling the two young ladies hurried off, and
+before Larry's mother quite knew how, she was in the beautiful upper room
+of the stately brownstone mansion, and face to face with its invalid
+mistress, condemned for years to lie on her sofa.
+
+"I do believe," said Mrs. Sterling, putting out a soft hand, "that
+everything will be much better than you think. We shall soon have cheering
+news, I feel quite sure. Gibson, draw up the easy-chair, so--that's right."
+
+Gibson quietly did as bidden, and Mrs, Keep sank into it, and laid down her
+head with the air of one quite done with the world. To add to the gloom, a
+terrible thunderstorm broke suddenly.
+
+"Now give me your hand." Mrs. Sterling leaned over and drew it within her
+own. Seeing all things going on so well, Mary Taylor and Eleanor drew off
+into the hall.
+
+"Young ladies," said Gibson, coming out softly, "wouldn't you wish to go
+down into the drawing-room? Mistress would like to have you make yourselves
+comfortable. The storm is pretty heavy, and I'll light the gas."
+
+"Oh, no, no," said Eleanor, shrinking at the invitation. "Mary, don't let's
+go," she whispered; "I should die there in that big, stiff room."
+
+"We'll sit just here," said Mary Taylor. "Come on, Nell," and down they
+both got on the top stair, huddling up together, while the storm raged
+outside in its fury.
+
+"Oh, young ladies!" exclaimed Gibson, starting, "I'll get you some chairs
+if you want to sit in the hall."
+
+"We like this," said Mary Taylor; "please, Gibson, don't feel troubled." So
+Gibson went back to her mistress' room, and Mary put her arm around
+Eleanor, and patted her hair as she cuddled up to her neck.
+
+"Mary, I like you so much," sobbed Eleanor, in a muffled voice, "because
+you don't try to say something to comfort me."
+
+Mary kept on patting the pretty hair, with anxious ears for the messenger
+to come from the Keep household. Presently out came Gibson again.
+
+"I'm going out to bring in those boys," she said; "Mistress wants it."
+
+"What boys?" asked Mary quickly.
+
+"The whole of them," said Gibson; "they've been hanging around ever since
+Master Larry was brought home, and----"
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Eleanor faintly.
+
+"And Mrs. Sterling wants them invited in here to wait?" exclaimed Mary.
+"How kind of her! Now, then, Nell, that's work for you and for me: we must
+help those boys to get a little comfort"--as Gibson went quickly down the
+long stairs on her errand.
+
+"Oh, I can't," cried Eleanor, burrowing into the soft neck.
+
+"Yes, you can."
+
+"I'm his sister. And you can't expect me to see them."
+
+"Yes, I do," said Mary firmly; "it's exactly what you ought to do. I'm
+going down to welcome them, and you must come too. Come on, Eleanor; we've
+simply got to do it."
+
+Eleanor, seeing nothing for it unless she were to be left alone on her
+stair, which would have been the last thing to be endured, got up and
+followed slowly, to be met at the big door leading to the side porch by the
+company of gloomy-faced boys.
+
+"Well boys," said Mary cheerfully, "I'm glad you've come to help Eleanor
+and me."
+
+Every boy looked up in great surprise, for they all supposed they were left
+to comfort themselves.
+
+"Can't we sit in the dining-room?" asked Mary, with a thought for the
+cheerful red carpet and curtains.
+
+"Mistress wants them to come up into her sitting-room," said Gibson.
+
+"Her sitting-room!" exclaimed Mary.
+
+"Yes, Miss. She says they can help Mrs. Keep and her," said Gibson,
+standing with folded hands deferentially, but yet quite expecting the
+command to be carried out.
+
+The boys stood up a little taller yet. Evidently they were thought worthy
+of consideration in the way of administering consolation instead of hanging
+around, useless creatures in everybody's way.
+
+"In that case," said Mary Taylor, "we'll all go upstairs at once."
+
+So they all filed up the long flight, and Gibson held open the door, and
+Mrs. Sterling from her sofa called out, "Boys, yon don't know how glad I am
+to see you all." And just as they began to feel a little bit of hope down
+in their hearts, it was so much easier all bearing the suspense together, a
+light tripping step came up the staircase, and little Doctor Fisher's big
+spectacles were thrust in the doorway.
+
+"Just right. Very sensible." He beamed at them all, and darted over and
+took the poor mother's hand.
+
+"Your boy is all right," he said. "His collar bone is broken, to be sure,
+but it is a beautiful fracture. And he has some bruises. Thank the Lord it
+is no worse."
+
+There was a rustle back of him. Then two or three boys broke from the group
+and fell upon him in the rear.
+
+"Is that true?" the foremost one shouted.
+
+"Eh?"--little Doctor Fisher whirled around--"yes indeed, true as gospel.
+Oh, see here now," as the whole bunch made a mad plunge for the hall. "Come
+back here, boys."
+
+Every single one came slowly back, except Frick; he had cleared the space
+to the top of the stairs, and was now making his quickest time on record
+down the flight.
+
+"You are not to cheer; I see you want to," and Doctor Fisher gave a little
+laugh.
+
+"Yes, sir," Curtis Park answered for the rest.
+
+"Well, you----"
+
+"Doctor Fisher"--it was Mrs. Sterling who interrupted, and she smiled--"I
+should very much like to hear that cheer now."
+
+_"Ma'am!"_ exclaimed the little doctor, gazing at her over his
+spectacles.
+
+"Oh, it would do me good, I assure you," said Mrs. Sterling, leaning back
+in a satisfied way against her pillows. "So, if you please, boys, let me
+hear it at once"--smiling at them.
+
+And they gave it then and there, the poor mother in all this confusion
+getting time to recover herself.
+
+And then three more for the little doctor. And then one of the boys, the
+least likely to have courage to propose it, piped out:
+
+"Let's give her three"--pointing to the hostess.
+
+How pleased the poor invalid was, and how she beamed at them all! And when
+Doctor Fisher saw that, he was so well satisfied that he shook hands with
+them all quite around the circle.
+
+"Now I must go. I'll look in again on your boy in an hour. Madam"--to Mrs.
+Keep. "Meantime, I'd stay over here, for I've sent for a nurse from the
+hospital; he must be kept quiet a spell. Good-day," and he was off.
+
+"Now, boys"--there was a pretty pink spot in either cheek, as Mrs. Sterling
+turned to them--"do you know, I've thought of a plan by which you might do
+something for Lawrence?"
+
+"What--oh, what?" They crowded up to her sofa. Gibson, from the doorway
+where she had retreated, to be within call, looked a little anxious, but
+catching a glance from her mistress, smoothed out her face again.
+
+"What is your plan?" asked Curtis. It really seemed as if the boys had been
+accustomed to gather in that room, by the way in which they now crowded up
+as comrades entering into anything that might be proposed.
+
+"You know that before long Lawrence will be able to see you, we hope,"
+began Mrs. Sterling, in her cheeriest way. "Gibson, push up that pillow a
+little more."
+
+"Oh, I will," cried Curtis, springing forward.
+
+Gibson, in great trepidation at any one performing the office for her
+mistress, started to do it, but Curtis was already most gallantly, if a
+trifle awkwardly, pushing up the pillow, giving it a rousing thump that got
+on the nerves of the maid.
+
+"You should have waited for me," she said tartly.
+
+"Never mind; that is all right." Mrs. Sterling smiled up at him where he
+stood, the hot blood in his face, and his eyes downcast. "I'm very much
+obliged to you, Curtis. I guess you are accustomed to do it for your
+mother," she said encouragingly.
+
+"I do--I am," he said incoherently, beginning to feel better. It was only
+Gibson who was cross, he reflected; Mrs. Sterling herself was as nice as
+she could be.
+
+"Well now, if I were you," said Mrs. Sterling, turning on her pillow to get
+a good look at them all, "I'd form a committee, a comfort committee, to
+think up things that will interest Lawrence. And by and by the doctor is
+going to let you go to see him, and----"
+
+"What things?" The small boy who had proposed the cheers for Mrs. Sterling,
+now pushed to the front, so as to get a good look at her. "Tell me, please,
+what things?"
+
+"Well, you can cut out funny things from the magazines and papers for one
+thing," said Mrs. Sterling, quite delighted at the success of her plan so
+far, "and the nurse can read them to him."
+
+"I've got a lot of _Punch_ numbers," cried one boy.
+
+"And _Life,_" said another.
+
+"And oceans of magazines." They all shouted one thing, and another. Gibson,
+who by this time was tired of popping her head in and out, had withdrawn to
+a little room opening out of her mistress' apartment, and taken up her
+sewing, quite convinced that far from its being a cause for alarm,
+everything was going on finely.
+
+"Well now, just see how much pleasure that will give him," Mrs. Sterling
+was saying.
+
+"What else?" asked the small boy.
+
+"Then has any one of you any puzzles?" asked Mrs. Sterling, "or conundrums?
+Don't you think that is fine, to have something to think of beside dismal
+things, when you lie in bed?"
+
+Curtis Park was just in his element here, for he dearly loved puzzles and
+conundrums. And presently Mrs. Sterling and he were busily talking over
+this and that kind, and book, and collection, until finally the small boy
+pulled the fringe of her pink crocheted shawl.
+
+"I want to know what else?"
+
+"Dear me!" Mrs. Sterling looked up quickly, to give a little laugh. It
+wasn't loud, but so cheery and sweet that Gibson, in the little outer room,
+dropped her sewing in her lap. "Thank the Lord!" she said, and wiped her
+eyes.
+
+Frick, meanwhile, too excited to hear the doctor call them to come back,
+had darted out of the house, with no thought for the rain, but with one
+wild desire--to find Joel Pepper. And as he had a perfect faculty for
+sprinting, and cut through, with a dash, all the cross-streets, he soon
+found himself for the second time that day at the King mansion.
+
+But this second time he was no more fortunate than the first. For although
+he was willingly admitted to Mr. King's writing-room, it was to see that
+gentleman look up and say with the most genial of smiles:
+
+"Ah, Frick, my boy, well, this time it's all right, isn't it, since I let
+Joel go down to you?"
+
+"Joel hasn't been with us," blurted out Frick, Then he leaned against the
+big writing-table, speech all gone, for he began to feel terribly tired,
+and it had been nothing but one long disappointment all day.
+
+Old Mr. King laid down his pen and looked Frick all over.
+
+"Oh, no, he hasn't," declared Frick, shaking his head dismally; "we haven't
+any of us seen him, and Larry Keep has been run over by Mr. MacIlvaine's
+tallyho, and most smashed up." Then he stopped suddenly, his cup of woe
+being empty.
+
+"The first thing to do is to find Joel," said Mr. King to himself,
+anxiously. "The storm is almost over, to be sure"--glancing out of the
+window--"but where can he be?" He hurried across the room and touched the
+electric button. "You haven't the least idea, Frick, where to look for him,
+eh?"
+
+"No, sir," said Frick miserably.
+
+Thomas popped his head in, to be given the order to have one of the
+rainy-day carriages brought round. Just then, in ran Jasper. He had been
+caught by the sudden shower over at Pickering Dodge's.
+
+"Father," he cried, his face glowing, "I've come home as soon as it slacked
+up a bit. Why, you are not going out?"--seeing the old gentleman beginning
+to don his mackintosh.
+
+"Yes, I am," said Mr. King grimly, "going to do just that very thing,
+Jasper."
+
+"Oh, let me, Father." Jasper sprang to his side eagerly, then looked in a
+puzzled way over to Frick.
+
+"It's Joel," said Frick, feeling that it was expected of him to furnish an
+answer.
+
+"Joel?" cried Jasper, the color going out of his cheek.
+
+"Yes, Joel can't be found," said old Mr. King, speaking lightly to hide the
+dismay he really felt. "It's all right, of course; he's probably at one of
+the boys' houses; only as he was to join Frick, why, I'd prefer to look him
+up a bit. Well, there's Thomas"--glancing out of the window.
+
+"Oh, let me go for him," begged Jasper. "I can find him. Surely, you don't
+need to, Father; don't, pray, in all this rain."
+
+"I am going after Joel," declared his father, quite obstinately, "so say no
+more about it, Jasper"--moving past him to the door. "Come, along, Frick,
+my boy, you might as well come, too."
+
+"Let me go, too," cried Jasper. "Oh, Father, can't I? I can at least help."
+He didn't say "take care of you," but he really felt anxious to the last
+degree.
+
+"Yes, yes," said his father, "of course you may come if you like." So
+Jasper, well pleased, rushed for his mackintosh, and all three got into the
+carriage, and Thomas whirled them off in his best style.
+
+"It isn't really worth while to worry Mrs. Fisher," said old Mr. King when
+well on the way, "for we shall probably soon run across Joel as bright as a
+button, and gay as a lark. Bless me, how this rain comes down!"
+
+
+
+
+XIX
+
+JOEL'S NEW FRIEND
+
+
+But no Joel "bright as a button and gay as a lark" came in sight. Instead,
+at a corner they were turning rapidly, Mr. King in desperation giving the
+order to drive to one of the boys' houses most likely to attract Joel's
+attention this morning, Thomas came to an abrupt halt that nearly threw the
+horses back on their haunches.
+
+"What are you about there?" he cried in vexation. "Can't you keep out from
+under the horses' heels, I'd like to know?"
+
+The boy thus addressed paid not the slightest attention to the irate
+coachman, but advanced to the carriage door. He seemed to have something
+the matter with his arm that would evidently have given him a good deal of
+bother had his mind been on anything but the desire to attract Mr. King's
+attention.
+
+But that gentleman, violently jolted by the sudden pull-up of the horses,
+not being in the best frame of mind, called out testily, "Bless me, what is
+the man stopping for? Drive on, Thomas," and looked directly over his head.
+
+Seeing which, the boy clambered up the carriage step and hung on with one
+hand, but so much determination was in his eyes that old Mr. King fumed
+out: "Make the scoundrel get down, Jasper."
+
+"What do you want?" asked Jasper, trying to make it as pleasant as
+possible, before the more summary treatment set in.
+
+"I've got to speak to him," said the boy. Thomas, gathering up the reins in
+one hand and the whip in the other, looked around with fury in his eye.
+"Shall I give him a lick?" he asked.
+
+"No, no," said Jasper hastily, "keep quiet, Thomas."
+
+"I've nothing to say to you," cried Mr. King in his most pompous way, and
+with a stately wave of his hand, "so take yourself off, boy."
+
+"Father--" began Jasper, in a distressed tone.
+
+"And be quick about it." The old gentleman fairly roared it out. "Thomas,
+drive on."
+
+That functionary, with a very dissatisfied expression that he hadn't been
+allowed to use his whip when he got it all ready so nicely, now cracked it
+at the horses. The boy, with one hesitating glance at Jasper, slid off the
+carriage-step down to the street, and yelled defiantly up into Mr. King's
+face as the brougham spun off:
+
+"I was going to tell you where your boy is."
+
+"Father!" exclaimed Jasper, with a white face, "he must know where Joel is.
+Thomas, _Thomas, stop!_" For Thomas, having no other way to vent his
+vexation, took it out in driving as fast as possible, so he didn't hear
+what was going on in the coach.
+
+"Eh?" Mr. King was saying in bewilderment. At last Jasper succeeded in
+getting his wishes known, and once more the horses were jerked back, for
+the summons was quick and sharp.
+
+By this time the boy was off, and although Jasper peered this way and that,
+he could see nothing of the old blue cap that had adorned the head thrust
+over the carriage door.
+
+"He knows something about Joel, Father, you may depend," persisted Jasper;
+"we must find him."
+
+Frick, who had been ready to cry, all huddled down in his corner, now sat
+straight, for it didn't seem to be just the time for tears, and in a minute
+he had scrambled past Mr. King, and hopped out.
+
+"I'm going to find him," came back on the air, as he shot off.
+
+"Do you wait here, Father," said Jasper, following him, and leaping out,
+"and we'll get the boy."
+
+But the boy, quite willing to tell whatever story there was on his mind
+when he jumped on the carriage step, was now of a different mind, and he
+ran like a deer, first down one street then another. At last, finding
+himself pursued by some one not at all inclined to easily give up the
+chase, it suddenly dawned on him that his blue cap might possibly be a
+means of tracing his course. So he twitched it off and tucked it under his
+well arm. This made it more difficult for Jasper, whose footsteps were fast
+gaining on him, to follow him accurately, and for the first time a horrible
+moment came to the pursuer when he thought that after all the boy might
+escape; but Frick, who had seen Jasper's nimble progress around a corner,
+ran down a side street, then across a garden, and came plump into the face
+of the boy.
+
+"Here he is," cried Frick, the breath almost knocked out of him by the
+encounter. He had grasped whatever he could first lay his fingers on and
+held to it firmly. It proved to be the arm for which the boy had not
+appeared to have much use.
+
+Once caught, the boy gave a groan, then started to run. Frick being
+smaller, it might be an easy matter to shake him off, even with only one
+available arm.
+
+"No, you don't get away this time," said Frick, for the tall boy had him in
+hand now, and was marching him back to the carriage at a pace much more
+comfortable for all concerned. "What have you to tell us?" he was being
+asked.
+
+"I would have told you then," said the boy doggedly. He couldn't help but
+show some suffering in his face, and Jasper, looking down to see its cause,
+found one arm hanging in a very peculiar manner. "You've hurt your arm," he
+said abruptly. "Frick, take care"--to the boy, not at all particular what
+he took hold of if he only got a good grip.
+
+"Well, he shan't get away," said Frick decidedly, nipping up the end of the
+jacket nearest to him.
+
+"How did you hurt your arm?" asked Jasper. Despite all his anxiety about
+Joel, and an awful feeling that in some way an accident had occurred that
+had enveloped them both, he looked into he face beneath him with real
+concern.
+
+"None of your business," the boy was going to say, but instead he turned
+away his face, then brought it back, and defiance was written all over it.
+"He sassed me, that old fellow in the carriage. Did you s'pose I'd tell him
+after that?"
+
+"He's dreadfully anxious," said Jasper, ignoring everything else. "You see,
+Joel's been gone in all this storm, and we don't know anything in the world
+where he is."
+
+"I do," said the boy.
+
+"Then, if you do"--Jasper stopped suddenly and brought his keen dark eyes
+to bear on the rough, defiant face--"I just hope you will tell me. And I
+know you will," he added, after a pause in which Frick fastened his gaze on
+them both wildly, luckily without discovering any use for his tongue.
+
+The boy swallowed hard, dropped his eyes for a moment, then looked up.
+
+"He was out on the pond."
+
+"Out on the pond!" echoed Frick, and his hand nipping the jacket-end fell
+nerveless to his side.
+
+"No one told you to speak," said the boy sharply, turning on him, "so you
+shut up."
+
+"But what was he doing out on the pond in such a storm?" asked Jasper. His
+lips were white, but he didn't allow his eyes to waver, for it was better
+to have the whole story before getting back to his father.
+
+"It didn't rain till after we'd had the row," said the boy.
+
+"Had the row?" It seemed an eternity to Jasper, for Joel perhaps even now
+might be in peril, before the next question was answered, "What row?"
+
+"Yes," said the boy, as if he were going to add, "Well, what are you going
+to do about it?" The next moment, he had made up his mind to tell all there
+was to tell. It wasn't exactly clear why, but he was giving the account in
+a very few words, leaving it where it ended with his seeing Joel rowing off
+down the pond.
+
+And presently the two who had hopped out of the carriage, with the new boy
+and the one who had thrust his head in over the door, were seated in the
+brougham, and Thomas had turned his back on the city streets and was
+driving off at a furious pace for Spy Pond.
+
+Frick collapsed now and mumbled distractedly, "Oh, dear! now Joel's----"
+what, he didn't trust himself to say. "And Larry's 'most killed, and----"
+
+Jasper interrupted him sharply, "What do you say, Frick?" for it was the
+first hint of anything gone wrong with any of the other boys.
+
+Then out came that story to add to the general misery, and old Mr. King sat
+very straight and kept saying, "Bless me! Tell Thomas to drive faster," and
+"Oh, bless me!" again, as he glanced over at the boy.
+
+But no Joel. They pranced, the horses did, shaking off the rain from their
+wet manes, around as much of the pond as was adapted to carriages, and
+Jasper and Frick got out and explored the rest, at least wherever Joel
+would be supposed to put into port, the boy holding up the arm that
+appeared not to be in its usual condition and going along, too, yet unable
+to add any information to his original statement. At last: "Probably Joel's
+gone home"--it was all Jasper could do to get the words out of his white
+lips.
+
+Without a word old Mr. King sank back, and waved his hand, which meant
+"Yes," settling down amongst the cushions hopelessly, while their faces
+were turned homeward.
+
+"Hullo!" Unmistakably Joel's voice, and there he was, wet and dirty, and
+waving frantically from a side street for them to stop, as he made his best
+time to the corner.
+
+Jasper threw wide the door. "_Joe!_" he cried. Thomas pulled up again,
+the horses by this time having become so well accustomed to this method of
+bringing up that they did it quite well, and there was a great to-do in the
+coach.
+
+"I've been calling and calling," panted Joel, blowing like a porpoise, and
+running up with red cheeks, "and you wouldn't stop," he added in a very
+injured way.
+
+"Well, we didn't hear you, you beggar," cried Jasper. "Come, get in with
+you"--putting out both hands to assist in the process. "Where have you
+been, Joe?" for old Mr. King was beyond talking.
+
+"I've been--" began Joel, glad enough to hop in; "why, where--" as his
+black eyes fell on the boy in the corner.
+
+Frick had tried to swarm all over him, but Joel put out an unsteady hand.
+
+"I came to tell," said the boy, seeing he was expected to say something.
+
+"Oh, don't," cried Joel involuntarily; "'tisn't any matter; I don't care."
+
+"Well, it's all out, Joe," said Jasper affectionately, who couldn't stop
+patting his back. Frick flew over to the opposite side and let Joel snuggle
+up to the old gentleman. "I'm here, Grandpapa," he said happily.
+
+"Oh, bless me! Yes, my boy!" said old Mr. King brokenly, and fondling the
+little brown hands. "Well, we must get you home and out of these wet
+clothes as soon as possible. I don't know what your mother will say. Oh,
+dear me, Joe!"
+
+"Pooh!" cried Joel, "I'm not wet."
+
+"You're wet as a drowned rat, Joe," declared Jasper, bursting into a laugh,
+which was such a relief to all concerned that in a minute it really seemed
+like a pleasure excursion. But Joel pulled himself up.
+
+"Oh, I'm going to see what's the matter with Jack's arm," and he leaned
+over and put his hand on it.
+
+"Nothing," said Jack, trying to pull it away, but Joel held on.
+
+"Tis, too," he said. "You're going to have it fixed. Grandpapa, won't you
+take him to Doctor Fisher's office? Please do."
+
+At this Frick pricked up his ears. "Doctor Fisher isn't----"
+
+"Frick," began Jasper desperately, "look out and see if it rains."
+
+Frick stared in amazement, and even Joel bobbed his head over at Jasper.
+
+"Why, doesn't it rain on your side?" he cried, his black eyes very wide.
+
+"Never mind; do as I tell you," said Jasper, nowise disconcerted. So Frick
+reported that it did rain; and then Jasper began to talk so fast that Joel
+had no time to get in a word at all, although he tried with all his might.
+
+"See here," he shouted at last, and his voice rang clear above every other
+noise, "can't we take him to Doctor Fisher's office--can't we, Grandpapa?
+Make Thomas turn about and take us there"--he fairly howled it now.
+
+"And Doctor Fisher won't be there," screamed Frick, on just as high a key.
+
+"Why not?"
+
+It was impossible to stop the dreadful news of Larry's accident from coming
+now. And in a minute Frick had it all out in a burst, quite unconscious of
+Jasper's efforts, and well pleased at having something important to say.
+
+"Larry's been run over by Mr. MacIlvaine's tallyho, and 'most smashed to
+death."
+
+
+
+
+XX
+
+THE COOKING CLUB
+
+
+"Oh, my goodness me!" Alexia gave a jump, then ran for the closet.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, standing quite still in the middle of the room,
+the lightning flash and the sudden peal of thunder coming without warning.
+
+"Oh, I'm scared to death," cried Alexia, burrowing frantically; "come in
+here, Polly Pepper. Are you killed?" she screamed.
+
+"No," said Polly, "and I don't believe there'll be another as bad."
+
+"Oh, come in here. Ooh!" cried Alexia, in muffled accents, as she huddled
+up against the clothes.
+
+"Oh, Polly!" It was Miss Rhys: her embroidery, cast aside at the sudden
+storm-burst, was dragging behind her, and she was wringing her hands. "Did
+you ever see anything so dreadful?"
+
+"I don't believe there'll be another as bad," said Polly again, finding
+nothing more of consolation to offer.
+
+"And where is Alexia?" And without waiting for an answer, Miss Rhys
+paced nervously up and down the room, still wringing her hands. "And
+of course there will be more; there, there it comes," and she ran, the
+embroidery-piece still hanging to her gown, into the closet.
+
+"Oh, Aunt," cried Alexia, with a squeal, "you scared me 'most to death; I
+thought I was struck!"
+
+"Why, are you here, Alexia?" gasped Miss Rhys, when she could recover
+herself enough to speak. "Well, this is truly a dreadful storm," and she
+clutched her with shaking fingers.
+
+"Yes, I am here," said Alexia. "Don't pinch so, Aunt--ow! My arm is all
+black and blue, I know it is."
+
+"It's no time to think of such little things, Alexia," replied her aunt
+severely; "it may kill us both."
+
+"Well, that's no reason I should be all pinched to death," grumbled Alexia,
+forgetting the thunderstorm in her present discomfort and edging off as
+well as she could. "The closet is dreadfully small, Aunt."
+
+"It's quite large enough, I'm sure, to protect us," said Miss Rhys, hanging
+tightly to her with trembling fingers. "Dear me! any minute may be our
+last."
+
+"Well, I'm not going to be smothered to death," declared Alexia, struggling
+to work her way past her aunt.
+
+"Alexia!" exclaimed her aunt.
+
+"I'm going after Polly." Alexia out in the middle of the room flung her arm
+around Polly. "Oh, misery!--where?" as a vivid flash seemed to hop right in
+the window. "Oh, Polly, come!" She clutched her wildly.
+
+"Where?" said Polly. "We can't get away from it, Alexia; it's just
+everywhere."
+
+"Oh, I don't care--anywhere--in the coal-scoop," cried Alexia, frantically
+dragging her along. "I shall just die, Polly Pepper, and here you stand
+like a stick."
+
+"Well, there's just no use in running," said Polly, but seeing Alexia's
+distress she suffered herself to be led, and downstairs the two girls sped,
+and into the landlady's room, the first door to stand ajar.
+
+"I'm coming in," announced Alexia, without ceremony, "for I'm scared to
+death," and she dragged Polly Pepper after her. "Did you ever see such a
+thunderstorm, Mrs. Cummings?"
+
+"It is pretty bad," a voice answered. It wasn't Mrs. Cummings, as she had
+hurried to oversee the maid close the windows through the house, but
+another of the boarders, who, like Alexia, had selected this apartment for
+a refuge.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" Alexia sank down upon the sofa, being careful not to
+relinquish her hold of Polly, and dragged a cushion over her face. "Is that
+you, Mr. Filbert"--bringing out one eye to stare at him.
+
+"I think so," said Mr. Filbert, a little thin old man sitting over in the
+corner and leaning forward over his cane. He spoke cautiously, as if not
+quite sure. "Yes, it _is_ a bad storm," he repeated decidedly. "Where
+is your aunt?"
+
+"She's up in the closet," said Alexia, pulling the sofa-cushion over her
+own and Polly's face as well. "There, we can't see it at any rate, if we
+are going to be killed."
+
+"Up in the closet?" repeated Mr. Filbert.
+
+"Yes. Oh, Polly, do you suppose it's lightening and thundering now?"--as
+the two girls cuddled up closer together on the roomy old sofa, the cushion
+crowded up over eyes and ears.
+
+"I suppose so," said Polly, very much wishing she could say "No."
+
+"Oh, dear me! I'm smothered to death," grumbled Alexia, "and I'm so
+hot"--wriggling discontentedly.
+
+"So am I," said Polly.
+
+"What did you say? Your aunt was in the closet?" little old Mr. Filbert was
+asking; and receiving no reply, he kept on.
+
+"Oh, do hear him," whispered Alexia, back of the sofa-cushion; "he is so
+tiresome, asking the same thing over and over."
+
+"Well, do answer him," said Polly.
+
+"I have, once," said Alexia.
+
+"Is your aunt in the closet, did you say?" Mr. Filbert kept on, with the
+impression that a reply would soon be coming if he only held up the
+conversation at his end of it.
+
+Alexia dashed down the sofa-cushion with a nervous hand. "I can't breathe;
+let's get out, Polly," and she flew up, to sit quite straight. "Yes, my
+aunt is up in the closet, Mr. Filbert. Whee! Oh, I am so scared, Polly
+Pepper!"
+
+"She'll be struck there quicker 'n any other place she could pick out,"
+declared the little old gentleman positively.
+
+Alexia hopped off from the sofa and ran on anxious feet to his chair.
+
+"What did yon say, Mr. Filbert? and how do you know?" she cried, all in one
+breath.
+
+"The chimney closets always catch the lightning first," said Mr. Filbert
+cheerfully; "you see, it----"
+
+Alexia dashed off, ran through the hall and up to her own room. "Aunt,
+Aunt," she cried, thrusting her head into the closet, "you'll be struck in
+there, Mr. Filbert says so. Come out, Aunt."
+
+There was no response, and Alexia, now in mortal terror, plunged into the
+closet.
+
+"Come, Aunt. Oh, my!" as a clap of thunder sent her plunging in headlong.
+"Why, where--" for grope as she might, clear up to the end, among the
+clothes and the shoe-bag, no Miss Rhys was to be found.
+
+"Oh, dear, dear!" Alexia began to whimper, feeling all around the floor
+with terror-stricken fingers. "Aunt, where are you? Oh, she's been struck
+and she's dead, I know she is! Polly Pepper," she screamed, tumbling out of
+the closet to rush to the head of the stairs, "come up and help me find
+Aunt."
+
+"Alexia!" Miss Rhys, concluding not to be left alone in the closet when the
+two girls ran downstairs, had hurried out after them, and now appeared from
+the hall corner where she had crouched. "Don't scream so."
+
+"Oh, Aunt!" cried Alexia, throwing her arms around her, "you haven't been
+struck, have you? Oh, do say you haven't."
+
+"Why, of course not; don't you see I'm here?" said Miss Rhys. "There,
+child, take care, you're mussing my lace collar," and she edged off from
+the nervous fingers. "We'll go downstairs, I think, and stay with Mrs.
+Cummings."
+
+"If you're really sure you are not struck," said Alexia, eying her askance,
+as if in considerable doubt, "we'll go; and Polly Pepper is there and that
+tiresome old Mr. Filbert."
+
+"If Polly is there, she must stay to luncheon," said Miss Rhys, gathering
+up her skirts and preparing to descend the stairs.
+
+"Oh, how fine!" exclaimed Alexia, hopping after, losing sight of the
+thunderstorm in the delight of having Polly Pepper to herself for so many
+hours. "Oh, Aunt, what's that tagging after you?"--catching sight of the
+piece of embroidery dangling from her aunt's long figure.
+
+"I see nothing," said Miss Rhys, turning around with her head over her
+shoulder.
+
+"Well, do stand still, Aunt," cried Alexia, "a minute."
+
+"What is it?" Miss Rhys kept saying, trying to see for herself.
+
+"Your centerpiece--oh, dear me!" Alexia by this time had it free, and burst
+into a laugh as she held it up.
+
+"Well, now, I expect I have dragged off my green floss," exclaimed her
+aunt, in irritation. "I am quite sure of it."
+
+"Well, 'twould be in the closet," said Alexia, who didn't relish offering
+to go back, "'twon't hurt it to stay there a little while."
+
+"I must find it," said Miss Rhys decidedly. And Alexia, wild to go down to
+tell Polly Pepper she was to stay to luncheon, flew over the stairs,
+leaving her aunt to get her green floss as she could.
+
+"But I can't," said Polly, when Alexia had hugged her and danced around her
+to her heart's content; "I must go home."
+
+"Why, Polly Pepper, you can't ever go in this awful rain."
+
+"It isn't going to rain much more," said Polly, running over to the window
+to flatten her face against the pane.
+
+"You'll be struck if you do that." Little Mr. Filbert looked after her in
+disapproval. "The window is the worst place in a thunderstorm; you see,
+it----"
+
+"Oh, that's what you said about the chimney closet," said Alexia, in scorn,
+"and there can't be two places that are the worst."
+
+"Oh, Alexia," said Polly, looking back from the window.
+
+"Well, he's so tiresome," said Alexia, putting her arm around her and
+gazing out of the window; "that's just the way he goes on at the table
+every single day. Oh, see it rain, Polly Pepper!"
+
+"It's slackening," said Polly, peering up at the drops, that really were
+beginning to fall with little spaces between. "And Mamsie will send for me
+soon, I guess."
+
+"Oh, well, it will begin again most likely," said Alexia. "I hope this
+thunderstorm will last till ever so late this afternoon."
+
+"Oh, Alexia Rhys!" cried Polly, in great distress, and whirling away from
+the window, "don't wish that. Why, I must get home."
+
+"Well, I do," said Alexia, bobbing her light hair till the fluffs settled
+over her forehead, "for then you'd stay. You haven't been over here in ever
+and ever so long, Polly Pepper," she said, in an injured voice, "and I've
+got so very much to talk with you about."
+
+"Well, let's talk now, then," said Polly, with a sigh, yet feeling quite
+sure that she would soon be sent for to go home.
+
+"Come over to the sofa then," said Alexia, So they ran over, and together
+settled as far back into the corner as they could, pushing up one of the
+cushions comfortably behind them.
+
+"Well, now, you begin," said Polly.
+
+"Oh, no--you," said Alexia, having no notion of doing the talking, for it
+was always great fun to listen to Polly Pepper.
+
+"Why, I thought you said you had ever so much to talk over," said Polly.
+
+"So I have," said Alexia coolly, "we always do have; you know we do, Polly.
+Well, now begin."
+
+"But it's your place to begin first," said Polly decidedly, "because you
+said you had something to talk over. So what is it, Alexia?"
+
+"Well--" Alexia drew a long breath, cudgeling her brains, then burst out,
+"We must think of something new to do now, Polly, since the garden party is
+over."
+
+"I know," said Polly. "How I wish we could get up something else, for our
+fancy work is all done! Oh, wasn't it just gorgeous, Alexia"--with a
+comfortable little wriggle.
+
+"I should say it was," cried Alexia, "and didn't it sell, though!--and
+everybody wished there was more, except my horrible old shawl."
+
+"Why, Alexia Rhys!" Polly poked up her head where she had been nestling it
+on Alexia's shoulder. "You know Mrs. Sterling sent for the shawl and gave
+five dollars for it."
+
+"Oh, that was because she knew it was so ugly that no one else would buy
+it," said Alexia composedly. "Well, I don't care, so long as it's sold. I
+was just tired to death of that old thing, Polly; I don't want to ever see
+another shawl."
+
+"Well, we shan't have another fair in a long while, I suppose," said Polly,
+with a sigh, and laying her head down again.
+
+"Not till next summer," said Alexia; "then, says I, for a garden party! You
+know your grandpapa said he'd give you another, just as nice a one, then."
+
+"But that's a whole year." said Polly disconsolately; "heigh-ho, it's so
+very long to wait! Well, I suppose we must think of something else to do
+now."
+
+"Just for us girls," said Alexia.
+
+"I don't know," said Polly slowly, looking up at her; "we ought to let the
+boys come in."
+
+"Oh, not those horrid boys," said Alexia impatiently; "they're forever
+hanging around, and I like, once in a while, to have something by
+ourselves."
+
+"But it seems too bad to leave them out," said Polly soberly.
+
+"Well, it would do them good to be left out sometimes," declared Alexia:
+"they're so high and mighty, I'd just dearly love to take them down, and
+say, 'Boys, you can't come into this.'" She tossed her fluffy hair till the
+long, light braids flew out triumphantly.
+
+"Why can't we have a cooking club?" suggested Polly, after a minute of hard
+thinking.
+
+"Ugh!" Alexia twisted up her face. "Oh, that's horrid," she said, with
+another grimace. "Do you mean, learn to make things on the kitchen range?"
+
+"Yes, and on the chafing-dish," said Polly, flying up to sit straight. "Oh,
+it would be elegant, Alexia!" she cried, with glowing cheeks.
+
+"Well, I can't learn," said Alexia, "so that's some small comfort, for I'm
+in a boarding-house, and I guess the cook here would fly in a fit to see me
+come into the kitchen."
+
+"But you can come to our house and learn with me," said Polly, clasping her
+hands, "and we'll make perfectly splendid things; just think, Alexia."
+
+"What things?" asked Alexia doubtfully.
+
+"Oh, little biscuits," said Polly, going back in her mind to the delights
+of baking-day in the little brown house; "cunning little ones, you know;
+you can't think how perfectly elegant we used to make them, Alexia."
+
+"Oh, you had everything elegant in your little brown house," said Alexia,
+twisting enviously in her corner. "Joel's never tired of telling of it. And
+to think I wasn't there! Oh, dear me! I wish you would talk about it."
+
+"Well, you can try now to make some biscuits. I'll show you how," said
+Polly eagerly.
+
+"And Polly--oh, goody!--now don't you see we won't have to ask the boys to
+join this? A cooking club--the very idea!" Alexia hopped off from the sofa,
+and stood in front of Polly, clasping her hands.
+
+"Why, yes we will," cried Polly, hopping off too, and speaking very
+decidedly; "the boys will like it just as much as we do."
+
+"The boys like a cooking club!" screamed Alexia, standing quite still.
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Polly. "Why, Jasper used to like our baking-days in the
+little brown house, you know he did, Alexia, like everything."
+
+"Oh, dear! yes, I know," said Alexia reluctantly.
+
+"And beside, even if they don't make things, why, they can come to our
+suppers, for we must of course get up some, of things we've learned to
+make. Oh, it will be _such_ fun, Alexia!" Polly sighed and clasped her
+hands.
+
+"And I'll learn to make your cunning little biscuits," declared Alexia
+suddenly, quite as if she had proposed the plan and pushed it along from
+the very beginning, "and do let's have a club supper soon," she begged.
+
+"There's a carriage coming," announced little Mr. Filbert, from his chair
+in the corner.
+
+"Oh, it's for me, I know," cried Polly, springing to the window. "Yes,
+Mamsie has sent for me, Alexia. I knew she would!"
+
+"Oh, dear me!" grumbled Alexia, awfully disappointed and racing after her.
+"Why, you can't ever go in all this rain, Polly Pepper."
+
+Polly burst out into a laugh. "Just look there," She pointed to the patches
+of light in the sky gradually growing bigger and brighter. "It doesn't rain
+a single drop! And, oh, Alexia, look, look--the rainbow!"
+
+
+
+
+XXI
+
+OF MANY THINGS IN GENERAL
+
+
+But the cooking club with all its delights wasn't started yet for many a
+day, for just as soon as Polly got home there was the whole story of the
+morning's adventures of Joel and Larry's accident, to fill all her time and
+thoughts.
+
+And then Jack--why, of course, he must come in for a goodly share of
+notice, for Joel insisted on making him a hero, to be willing to come and
+tell Mr. King of his misdemeanor on the pond. And Doctor Fisher had said
+the arm was in a bad way, the trouble being increased by all the running
+about in the pelting storm that Jack had indulged in, and this made Joel
+nearly frantic. Dear me! there was no time to think of cooking clubs!
+
+And then after luncheon came a little note from Mrs. Sterling, brought by
+no less a person than Mrs. Gibson herself, who, in her staid little black
+bonnet and gray dress and white apron, waited for Polly's answer.
+
+"No, Miss, I'll not sit down, if you please, as my mistress expects me back
+at once."
+
+"Dear Polly" (so the note ran), "will you run down this afternoon to talk
+over a little plan for the Comfort committee. I suppose the boys have told
+you about it. Bring Joel, too, for he couldn't come this morning when it
+was proposed. Your friend, Pamela Sterling."
+
+"Oh, goody!" exclaimed Polly, vastly pleased, and springing off. "Yes, I'll
+come, Mrs. Gibson, please tell her, and right away; that is, when I find
+Joel."
+
+"I hope you'll be there soon," said Mrs. Gibson, the light of pleasure at
+Polly's first words dying down a bit when she saw that Joel was to be
+waited for. "Couldn't you come first?" she asked anxiously.
+
+"Oh, I must find Joel," said Polly, "but I almost know where he is, and
+we'll be over soon. Please tell her so."
+
+She was already out in the hall, and Mrs. Gibson having obtained the best
+she was likely to receive, departed to carry back the word to her mistress.
+And Polly raced here and there without avail, for Joel was not so easily
+found after all.
+
+"Oh, Joel, where _are_ you?" cried Polly, racing along the hall. "Oh,
+dear me! Percy, is that you?" as Percy, with Van at his heels, came near
+running into her.
+
+"Yes, it is," said Percy, coming to an abrupt stop, but Van ran past them.
+"Hold on, Van," he cried, his face growing very red, "that's not fair, when
+Polly wanted to speak to us."
+
+"She didn't want to speak to me," said Van, making pretty quick time down
+the hall.
+
+"Oh, Polly, make him stop," begged Percy, twitching her sleeve; "he's going
+up into Ben's room; it's not fair, for I was ahead."
+
+"Well, you aren't ahead now," cried Van in glee, and mounting the stairs,
+he couldn't resist the temptation to peer over the railing. "Ha, ha! who's
+the smart one now? I'll get there first, Percy Whitney."
+
+"You shan't. Oh, make him stop," howled Percy, in distress.
+
+"Van," called Polly, looking up at him.
+
+"What?" said Van, wishing he hadn't wasted the time in exhibiting his
+triumph. He still kept on.
+
+"I want you," said Polly clearly. "Come down, Vanny, that's a good boy."
+
+"What do you want me for?" asked Van, turning slowly to look down at her.
+
+"Come down, and you'll see. Make haste, Van, for I'm in a dreadful hurry."
+
+"What do you want me for?" repeated Van, begrudging every step of the way
+he was now taking, and keeping a sharp look out that Percy didn't spring
+past him. To prevent that, he spread out both arms. "Say, Polly, what do
+you want me for?" At last he was by her side.
+
+"There, who's going to get up in Ben's room first?" said Percy
+complacently.
+
+"Well, you aren't," said Van stoutly, "'cause just as soon as Polly's got
+through with me, I'm going to run like lightning up there--so! I was ahead
+when she called me back."
+
+"Well, I was ahead first," declared Percy, "wasn't I, Polly--wasn't I?" he
+appealed anxiously to her.
+
+"Yes," said Polly, "and hush, Van. Now, see here, boys: I've got to find
+Joel. Mrs. Sterling has sent for him to come with me over there this
+afternoon, and she wants us right away. Don't you know where he is? I've
+looked for him just everywhere." She clasped her hands and looked at them
+in despair.
+
+"I don't," said Percy.
+
+"Neither do I," said Van; "we're going up in Ben's room. Is that all,
+Polly?" and he prepared to run.
+
+"No," said Polly, while Percy, in alarm lest a march should be stolen on
+him, sidled off on the other side.
+
+"Van!" Polly nipped his jacket and held it fast. Seeing which, Percy
+concluded to remain, and he now came back quietly and stood quite still.
+
+"Boys," said Polly, "it's just this way; you must help me to find Joel,
+for, unless you do, I'm sure I don't know what I can do. And Mrs. Sterling
+was going to tell us all about the Comfort committee to help Larry, you
+know." She dropped Van's jacket-end, and ran and sat down on one of the
+high-backed chairs, and folded her hands in dismay.
+
+"Oh, we will--we will," cried both the boys, quite overcome at this, and,
+losing sight of all the charms that were awaiting them in Ben's room, they
+precipitated themselves upon her. "But where shall we look for him? You
+know he went out with Doctor Fisher in his gig. Say where shall we look for
+him, Polly."
+
+"Joel went out with Papa Fisher!" cried Polly, hopping off from her chair.
+"Why didn't you say so before? Oh, dear me!"
+
+"Well, you asked me where he was, and I didn't know where they were going,"
+said Percy dismally, changing from one foot to the other in great distress.
+
+"And they might have taken us; I think 'twas real mean," declared Van, in a
+dudgeon.
+
+"Oh, Van, if he went with Papa Fisher, how could he? Oh, I know." Polly
+clapped her hands. "They've gone down to see that boy that got his arm hurt
+on the pond. I verily believe they have."
+
+"Well, they might have taken us," said Van again. "I'd like to have seen
+him awfully, and now Joel will have him all to himself. I'm going to get
+something, and I won't let Joel have any of it," he added vindictively.
+
+"Oh, Vanny!" and Polly went close to him, and put her cheek to his. "Just
+think what a dreadful time Joel had out there on the pond," and she gave a
+little shiver.
+
+"Hah, hah!" ejaculated Percy. "You'd been scared to death, Van, if those
+boys even winked at you."
+
+"I wouldn't, either," declared Van, straightening up.
+
+"Percy--Percy," said Polly warningly, turning around at him.
+
+"Well, he would," said Percy uneasily, not looking at her; "you know he
+would, Polly."
+
+"Well, don't say any such thing," said Polly firmly, "and perhaps he
+wouldn't, either."
+
+"No, I wouldn't," protested Van stoutly, since Polly reinforced him, "and
+you're just as mean as you can be, Percy Whitney, to say so."
+
+"Boys"--Polly drew away from Van, and sank down on her chair again--"I
+shan't have anything to say to either of you when you say such dreadful
+things," and she folded her hands sorrowfully in her lap and looked
+straight ahead at the opposite wall.
+
+"Oh, we won't--we won't," cried both boys, running over to her. "Polly, we
+won't"--shaking her arms.
+
+"Well, don't, then," said Polly. "Now promise you won't do it again, or
+else I'm really not going to talk to you."
+
+So Percy and Van promised, and pretty soon the wide hall resounded with
+merry peals of laughter.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, jumping to her feet in dismay.
+
+"What's the matter?" cried both boys, tumbling back in astonishment.
+
+"Just look what I've done!" Polly was wringing her hands now, and presented
+a picture of distress.
+
+"What--what, Polly?" They crowded up to her again.
+
+"Why, I've forgotten I was to go at once to Mrs. Sterling's, and she's been
+waiting. If Joel comes, send--him--over." The last words came back in a
+little shout, for Polly was off.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Percy discontentedly, losing all thought of the
+attractions in Ben's room, "now Polly will be gone all the whole afternoon,
+I 'most know."
+
+"Let's tag her," proposed Van cheerfully, not caring to get upstairs first,
+since Percy wasn't going to race with him, "I will; come on!"
+
+"No, no," said Percy, in alarm, "she won't like that. Think of something
+else."
+
+"I've thought of one thing, and you won't do it," said Van composedly,
+sitting down on the very chair Polly had left. "Now it's your turn."
+
+"But it was no good--that old thing you thought of," retorted Percy, in
+disdain; "no one could do it."
+
+"I thought it out, anyway," repeated Van obstinately, "and you wouldn't do
+it, so I'm not going to think up anything else till you have thought
+something, Percy Whitney."
+
+"Well, you needn't be so cross," said Percy sourly, and squaring up to his
+chair.
+
+"I'm not cross," contradicted Van, looking up at him with a very red face.
+
+"Yes, you are, just as cross as a snapping-turtle," said Percy, trying to
+think of the worst thing he had encountered, and quite pleased as he saw
+its effect on Van.
+
+"You shall just take that back, Percy Whitney," declared Van, hopping out
+of his chair, and doubling up his small fists. "I'm not a snapping-turtle."
+
+Percy edged off, with a sharp lookout for the fists.
+
+"I didn't say so."
+
+"Yes, you did," said Van crossly; "you said just that very thing, Percy
+Whitney, and I'm not a snapping-turtle."
+
+"I said you were as cross as one," said Percy, wishing he hadn't been quite
+as free with his comparisons, and moving off to a convenient corner.
+
+"Well, that's just the same," said Van, advancing, "and Polly----"
+
+[Transcriber's note: This page in our print copy was obscured by an
+ink blot. The words in brackets are those that we have supplied based
+on context and those letters that were visible.]
+
+At the mention of Polly, Percy stopped suddenly, drew a long breath, and
+never thought of the [corner] again.
+
+"[Why,] we promised her," he gasped; "I forgot all about it."
+
+Down [went Van's] little fist.
+
+"So we [did]," [he] said gloomily, and both boys crept off [together to]
+the same corner Percy had selected for [himself].
+
+"Whatever shall [we] do [now]?" breathed Percy, quite lost in his dismal
+reflections.
+
+"We stopped," said Van, as something to be offered with a grain of hope.
+
+"But we did a lot before we stopped," said Percy. A deep gloom had settled
+over his countenance, and he wouldn't look at Van. "Oh, dear me!"
+
+Van fidgeted about for a minute,
+
+"Well, I don't know," he said, twisting his hands. "Oh, dear me! Why, you
+might say I'm not a snapping-turtle," he cried cheerfully at last, and
+fairly hugging Percy in his delight.
+
+"So I might," said Percy, well pleased, "but I didn't say you _were_ a
+snapping-turtle; I said you were as cross as a snapping-turtle."
+
+"Well, you might say I'm not as cross as a snapping-turtle, then," said
+Van, determined to fix it some way.
+
+So Percy said it, and then the two brothers plunged out of doors without a
+thought of the formalities of any plan. But it was Van who furnished it
+after all.
+
+"Let's go down and see [Candace]," he said.
+
+"Oh, yes, let's," cried Percy, [then] he stopped short and began to laugh.
+
+"What's the matter?" Van twitched his sleeve.
+
+"Nothing," said Percy, so relieved he hadn't said what was on the tip of
+his tongue; "you've done it after all and told something for us to do."
+
+"Well, then, come on," cried Van, with a harder twitch. So they set off at
+a lively pace for the delights of Candace's little shop.
+
+Meanwhile, Polly was sorrowfully confessing to Mrs. Sterling why she was
+late, and explaining all the reason that Joel couldn't accompany her. And
+the whole story of the morning affair on the pond, as gathered from Jack,
+for Joel hadn't told a word of the encounter with the crowd of rough boys,
+had to be gone over with before Mrs. Sterling could open her budget of news
+and her wonderful plan for the Comfort committee.
+
+She was just beginning on it.
+
+"I do like that name so very much," sighed Polly. She was on a little
+cricket by the side of the lounge, her hands resting on the gay
+sofa-blanket.
+
+"Don't you?" cried Mrs. Sterling, in great satisfaction. "It expresses so
+much, Polly. I am so very glad that you like it."
+
+"Master Joel Pepper is coming down the street," said Gibson, guilty of
+interrupting, for she knew how anxious her mistress was to see Joel. "Shall
+I call him in?"
+
+"Do, by all means," said Mrs. Sterling, while Polly cried:
+
+"Oh, I am so glad!"
+
+So Gibson knocked on the window, and beckoned to Joel that he was wanted;
+then she hurried down to the big front door to let him in.
+
+There was a funny little noise over the stairs, as if there were more than
+one pair of feet, which was soon explained by Joel's bursting in, dragging
+another boy after him, who had his arm done up in a sling.
+
+"It's Jack," he said, by way of introduction.
+
+"Oh, Joel!" cried Polly, springing to her feet, in consternation.
+
+"Yes, and now what is it?" Joel advanced to the invalid's couch, ready for
+business.
+
+"I'm very glad to see Jack," said Mrs. Sterling, with a smile, putting out
+her soft, white hand to the boy, who was gazing at the doorway through
+which he had come, as if nothing would please him so much as to go through
+it again, this time on the way back.
+
+"You might get a chair, Joel, for your friend, and another for yourself,"
+suggested Mrs. Sterling.
+
+"I will--I will," cried Joel, well pleased to have something to do, and
+dragging up the first one he could find. "I'm going to sit on the
+carpet"--suiting the action to the words.
+
+"Well, you see--" Mrs. Sterling, without more ado, began at once on her
+plan. Polly was by this time back on her cricket, very much relieved to
+find that it wasn't so very dreadful after all to have Jack there, since
+Mrs. Sterling seemed to like it. "There's nothing helps a boy who is to be
+shut up in the house for a long time, quite so much as to have the other
+boys who can go out to play, think of him, and plan for his comfort. Isn't
+that so?" Mrs. Sterling looked at her little audience keenly.
+
+"Yes," said two of them. Jack was so scared at finding himself where he had
+never supposed he could be--in the stately brownstone mansion--that he
+fixed his eyes on the carpet, not daring to move; as for speech, it was
+quite beyond him.
+
+"Well, now that Lawrence Keep has gotten hurt, I think it will be a very
+good plan to have a Comfort committee to look out for him."
+
+"What can we do for him?" cried Joel, very much excited, and jumping up
+from the carpet.
+
+"Joel, do sit down," said Polly, quite ashamed, and pulling him by the
+jacket.
+
+Joel very unwillingly slid back to his place on the carpet, and fastened
+his black eyes on Mrs. Sterling's face.
+
+"Well, there are so many things to do for a boy who won't be very sick, but
+must be shut up in the house," said Mrs. Sterling, "that really it takes
+time even to think of them all."
+
+"What are some of them?" burst out Joel, pulling the sofa-blanket in his
+eagerness.
+
+"Joel--Joel," said Polly.
+
+"Here are some of them," said Mrs. Sterling, "that I told the boys this
+morning when they were in here. You might cut out the funny things in the
+magazines and newspapers, the pictures and the stories, and send him. It's
+so nice to have little reminders to pass away the time."
+
+"What else?"
+
+"Well, I didn't tell them that, but there are letters you might write him."
+
+"Ugh!" Joel made a wry face. "I don't like to write letters," he said
+bluntly.
+
+"Joel," said Polly again.
+
+"Perhaps that is the very reason it would be well for you to do it," said
+Mrs. Sterling, with a smile. "At any rate, it would please Lawrence, I
+think. Well, then there are conundrums; you can surely think up something
+of that sort that will amuse him, and puzzles."
+
+Now, strange to say, Jack had a good head for these things, and without
+thinking where he was, he blurted out:
+
+"I know a lot of 'em."
+
+Joel whirled around on the carpet and stared at him, as did Polly from her
+cricket. But Mrs. Sterling only smiled.
+
+"That's good," she said in approval, "now you see you can help us out a
+good deal"--nodding at him.
+
+But Jack, with a wild glance at the door, as he came to himself, was beyond
+conundrums, as he thought of what he'd done.
+
+"Tell some of 'em, Jack," cried Joel eagerly, emerging from his surprise.
+"What are they, Jack? Tell some."
+
+"Not now," said Mrs. Sterling, interposing. "Jack is going to write them
+out, and they will be sent in as his contribution to Lawrence."
+
+Sent in to Larry Keep's big house, almost as grand as the one Jack sat in
+now, by him, a little six-penny grocer's son, doing business over at the
+South End! He couldn't believe his ears, and to assist them, he lifted his
+eyes and stared at the person making the announcement. Evidently she meant
+it, and the more he gazed at her face, the better he liked it. But he
+didn't dare to stare long, so he concluded to transfer his attention from
+it to the carpet.
+
+"We are getting on so well," said Mrs. Sterling, and her tone was very
+cheery, "that I am really quite hopeful that Lawrence may be amused by all
+that we are to do for him. And now, before we go any further in our plan,
+suppose we take a little comfort ourselves." And she laughed a gay little
+laugh that wouldn't have sounded badly as Polly's own. "Gibson," she
+called.
+
+Out came Gibson from the little room next.
+
+"Will you bring us a tray of some of the nice things you always can get up,
+Gibson?" said her mistress. "I am really hungry, and I know these young
+people must be, they run about so."
+
+"I am," declared Joel, in great satisfaction at hearing the tray mentioned,
+and bobbing his black hair, "awfully hungry."
+
+"Oh, Joel!" said Polly.
+
+"If you knew, Polly," said Mrs. Sterling, with a laugh, "what a pleasure it
+is to me, to hear a hungry boy say so up here, you would be very glad to
+let him. You can't think"--looking around on the three--"what good you are
+doing me. Really your work as a comfort committee has begun already."
+
+
+
+
+XXII
+
+RACHEL'S VISIT TO MISS PARROTT
+
+
+Rachel ran blindly up the garret stairs of the parsonage and threw herself
+down on the top, her blue, checked apron over her head.
+
+"Oh, I can't--I can't," she screamed.
+
+"Rachel," the minister's wife called gently after her. But Rachel stormed
+on, "Oh, I can't; dear me, I can't!"
+
+So Mrs. Henderson mounted the stairs and sat down on the top one, and took
+Rachel's hands, nervously beating together.
+
+"My child, you must listen to me."
+
+It was said very quietly; but Rachel knew by this time what the parsonage
+people meant when they said a thing, so she answered meekly in a muffled
+voice because of the apron over her head:
+
+"Yes'm."
+
+"Take down your apron," said Mrs. Henderson.
+
+Down fell the apron, disclosing a face of so much distress, that for a
+moment the heart of the parson's wife failed her, but it must be done,
+
+"My child," she began very gently, "it is best that you should go to see
+Miss Parrott. She will be a good friend to you."
+
+"I don't want no friends," said Rachel doggedly, in her distress relapsing
+into her old tenement-house disregard of the rules of speech; "no more 'n
+I've got her."
+
+"Ah, child, that is not a wise way to talk," said Mrs. Henderson, shaking
+her head. "One cannot have too many friends."
+
+"She'd be too many," said Rachel; "that old woman that came the other day
+in that carriage all full of bones."
+
+"You must not talk so, dear. She is a very fine woman. Now, Rachel, she has
+asked to have you spend the day there, and we have promised that you shall
+go."
+
+There was an awful pause. A big blue-bottle over in the corner under the
+rafters was making a final decision to explore the filmy lace web beneath
+the window where a fat old spider had been patiently waiting for him, and
+he gave his last buzz of freedom before he hopped in. This was all the
+sound that broke the silence. Rachel held her breath, and fixed her black
+eyes at a point straight ahead, positively sure if she withdrew her gaze
+she would burst out crying.
+
+"So you will be ready to go at ten o'clock, Rachel, for Miss Parrott will
+send for you then," Mrs. Henderson was saying. And in a minute more the
+parson's wife was going down the garret stairs; Rachel, with a heart full
+of woe, slowly following, leaving the big garret to the fat old spider, who
+was busily weaving her silken threads in glee over her prisoner.
+
+And Rachel's woeful face was more than matched by the countenances of the
+two boys of the parson's family, who were not at all pleased that the
+companion sent to them by Mrs. Fisher, and who had turned out surprisingly
+just to their liking, should be suddenly torn away from them even for a
+single day. And they followed disapprovingly around, hanging upon all the
+preparations for the momentous visit, with a very bad influence upon
+Rachel's endeavor to control herself. Seeing which, their mother sent them
+off on an errand to Grandma Bascom.
+
+So, when the ancient carriage, with its well-seasoned coachman who rejoiced
+in the name of Simmons, made its appearance, there was no one to see Rachel
+off, save the patron's wife, the minister himself being away on a call lo a
+sick parishioner.
+
+Rachel went steadily down the walk between the box-borders, feeling her
+heart sink at each step. Mrs. Henderson, well in advance, was down at the
+roadside to help her in, with a last bit of good advice.
+
+"Good-morning, Simmons," said the parson's wife pleasantly.
+
+"Good-morning, Madam," Simmons touched his hat, and spoke with the air of
+state, for he kept his English ways. Secretly, the parson's wife was always
+quite impressed by them, and she looked at Rachel for some sign to that
+effect. But the child was scowling, and biting her thin lips, and she
+suffered Mrs. Henderson to assist her into the wide old vehicle without any
+further change of expression. When once in, she gazed around, then leaned
+forward on the slippery old green leather seat.
+
+"Can't Peletiah come?" she gasped; "there's lots o' room."
+
+"No," said Mrs. Henderson. "Now be a good girl"--all her fears returning as
+she saw Rachel's face.
+
+Simmons starting up the horses, that, although an old pair, yet liked to
+set off with a flourish, the movement bounced Rachel violently against the
+back of her seat and knocked her bonnet over her face. This gave her
+something to think of, and changed her terror to a deep displeasure. When
+the drive was ended, therefore, and the brougham, after its progress
+through an avenue of fine old trees, was brought to a standstill before the
+ancestral mansion where Miss Parrott's father and grandfather had lived
+before her, the visitor was in no condition to enjoy the pleasures thrust
+upon her.
+
+Miss Parrott, in the stiff, black silk gown that she had worn the day when
+she called at the parsonage, met her on the big stone steps. She put out a
+hand in a long, black lace mitt, "I am very glad to see you, child," she
+said, in old-time hospitality.
+
+But no hospitality, old-time or any other, had a pleasant effect on Rachel.
+She gave a glance up and around the big, gloomy gray, stone house, with a
+wild thought of rushing down the avenue and home to the parsonage.
+
+"It is a pleasant place, isn't it?" observed Miss Parrott with complacent
+memory of always living in the grandest homestead for several counties.
+
+"No, ma'am," said Rachel promptly.
+
+Miss Parrott started, and gave a little gasp. Then, reflecting it was not
+in accordance with fine manners to notice any such slip on the part of
+guests, she led the way into the mansion. Simmons, much shocked, actually
+forgot himself so far as to scratch his head, as he drove off to the
+stables, and he didn't get over it all day.
+
+"Perhaps you would like a little refreshment," suggested Miss Parrott,
+when, the child's bonnet off, she was seated on the edge of a stiff,
+high-backed chair. She couldn't think of anything else to say, and as she
+usually offered it to her friends at the end of their long drives when they
+called upon her, it seemed a happy thing to do now, especially as Rachel's
+black eyes were fastened upon her in a manner extremely uncomfortable for
+the person gazed at.
+
+As Rachel didn't know in the least what "refreshment" meant, she stared on,
+without a word. And Miss Parrott, pulling with more vigor than was her
+wont, a long red worsted cord that hung down by the piano, a stately butler
+made his appearance quicker than usual, took his directions from his
+mistress, and after regarding the small figure perched on one of the
+ancestral Parrott chairs with extreme disfavor, he silently withdrew.
+
+Presently, in he came, his head well thrown back, and bearing a huge silver
+tray. On it were a decanter, two little queer-shaped glasses, and a plate
+of very thin seed cakes. He deposited this on a spindle-legged table, which
+he drew up in front of his mistress, and, with another glance, which he
+intended to be very withering, cast upon Rachel, but which she didn't see
+at all, he departed.
+
+"Now, my dear," said Miss Parrott, in a lighter tone, feeling quite in her
+element while serving refreshments in such an elegant way, "you must be
+very hungry." She poured out a glassful from the decanter, and getting out
+of her chair, she took up the plate of seed cakes, and advanced to the
+small figure. "Here, child."
+
+Rachel took the little queer-shaped glass, but had no sooner felt it within
+her hand, than she gave a loud scream.
+
+"Take it away, it smells just like Gran"--pushing it from her.
+
+It knocked against the plate of seed cakes Miss Parrott was proffering, and
+together they fell to the floor with a crash. In hurried the butler.
+
+"I don't know what can be the matter," Miss Parrott was gasping, her hand
+on her heart, as she leaned against one of the ancient cabinets of which
+the apartment seemed to be full.
+
+"It smells just like Gran," Rachel was repeating, with flashing eyes. "Oh,
+how dare you give it to me!" She was standing over the wreck of the
+priceless china and glass, which, as no such accidents had been recorded in
+the family, Miss Parrott had continued to use in the entertainment of her
+guests.
+
+"You bad child, you!" exclaimed the butler, seizing her arm, and gone
+almost out of his senses at the sight of the ruin of such ancient
+treasures.
+
+"I'm not bad," cried Rachel, turning on him and stamping her foot; "she's
+bad--that woman there--for giving me what smells just like Gran!"
+
+"I can't make her out," declared the butler, eyeing her as he released her
+arm and stepped back toward his mistress.
+
+"And that's what makes people drunk," went on Rachel, pointing an angry
+finger at the wet spot where the liquid from the decanter was slowly oozing
+into the velvet carpet.
+
+The butler turned an outraged countenance, on which a dull red was
+spreading, over to his mistress.
+
+"You would better go out, Hooper," said Miss Parrott faintly, and holding
+fast to the cabinet.
+
+"I'm afraid to leave you, madam," said Hooper; "she ain't fit--that
+creature"--pointing to Rachel, "to be here; she may fly at you. I'll put
+her out at once."
+
+"You may leave the apartment, Hooper," said Miss Parrott, regaining some of
+her dignity by a mighty effort. "I'm not in the least afraid." But her
+looks belied her words, or at any rate the old serving-man thought so, and
+he made bold to remonstrate again.
+
+"Let me put her out, madam," he begged. "I'll call the gardeners."
+
+"Oh, no, no!" protested Miss Parrott, coming rapidly to her self-composure;
+"that would never do in all the world. Leave the room, Hooper." This last
+was said so exactly like his mistress at her best, that the butler obeyed
+it, making a wide circuit as he passed Rachel, who still stood, the picture
+of wrath, over the broken china and glass.
+
+Not a word was said for some minutes. Outside, Polly, the old parrot, was
+scolding vociferously, and the tall clock was ticking away for clear life.
+Hooper, his ear first, and then his eye, glued to the keyhole, was vainly
+endeavoring to find out what was passing in the sitting-room.
+
+At last Rachel drew a long breath. "I'm sorry I broke your things," and she
+awkwardly pushed the bits with her shoe,
+
+"Oh, that's no matter," said Miss Parrott, feeling astonished at herself
+for the words, "but you said such dreadful things. I can never forget
+that." She drew a long breath.
+
+No matter that she broke those beautiful things! The whole truth flashed
+upon Rachel, and although the smell of the hated stuff was even yet
+dragging back to her all the memory of her low condition of life through
+such childhood as she had known, over and above it all was quickly rising
+the conviction that for this unpardonable misdemeanor she would be sent
+back to the city and--awful thought!--perhaps to Gran. She set her teeth
+together hard, and clenched her thin hands as they hung by her side.
+
+"Yes. I say it is no matter," repeated Miss Parrott, not suffering herself
+to glance at the wreck of her ancestral treasures, "but oh, child! why did
+you say such dreadful things?" She still clung to the cabinet, shocked out
+of one tradition of her family, as if she must still hold to its time-worn
+and honored furnishings.
+
+Rachel gave her a swift, bird-like glance. "You do care; you're crying,"
+she exclaimed, aghast at the tears running over the wrinkled face.
+
+"Not about that, but the things you said; I didn't mean to do you harm."
+Miss Parrott did not attempt to deny the tears, and brushed them off with a
+trembling hand.
+
+"You ain't hurt me," cried Rachel, stumbling across the floor, with an
+awful feeling at her heart to see this stiff old woman cry.
+
+"Oh, whatever your name is, don't! I'll go home, and the minister may send
+me back to Gran, an' she may beat me. Don't cry!" She seized the heavy
+black silk in its front breadth and held on tightly.
+
+The butler, having at this minute his eye at the keyhole, now rushed in,
+unable to bear the sight, to be met by Miss Parrott, her withered face
+flaming behind her tears.
+
+"Do you go directly out, Hooper, and remain away until you are called." He
+never knew how he got out; and this time the keyhole was unobstructed.
+
+"Were you beaten, you poor little thing?" Was this Miss Parrott bending
+over Rachel's shaking shoulders, and hands clutching the silk gown! "Oh,
+dear, dear!"
+
+"Tain't no matter," mumbled Rachel. "I don't care, only don't let me go
+back." She shook in terror, and crouched down to the floor.
+
+"Never!" said Miss Parrott firmly. All the blood in her body seemed to be
+in her wrinkled face, and her eyes shone, as had those of her father, the
+old judge, when befriending some poor unfortunate. "You shall never go
+back, child; don't be afraid."
+
+But Rachel still shivered. There were the broken bits of china and glass on
+the floor back of her, and the minister and his wife must be told of the
+awful accident; and what they would do with her, why, of course, no one
+could tell.
+
+The thin, wrinkled fingers on which blazed many rings, that had been her
+mother's before her, were tremblingly smoothing Rachel's neatly braided
+hair. And as if she thought what was passing beneath them, Miss Parrott
+broke out quickly:
+
+"I shall never speak of it--of the breaking of those articles, child; so no
+one will know it but ourselves."
+
+"Never tell?" gasped Rachel, lifting her head, in astonishment and scarcely
+believing her ears.
+
+"Of course not," declared Miss Parrott, in scorn. "So do not be afraid any
+longer, but get up and dry your eyes." For at this announcement, Rachel's
+tears had gushed out, and she sobbed as if her heart would break.
+
+For answer Rachel flew to her feet, and without any warning and astonishing
+herself equally with the recipient, she threw her arms around Miss
+Parrott's thin neck, in among all the ancient laces with which she
+delighted to adorn it, and hugged it convulsively.
+
+Taken unawares, Miss Parrott could utter no word, and Rachel clung to her
+and sobbed. But the old ears had heard what hadn't been sounded in them for
+many a long day, and forgotten were wasted heirlooms and broken treasures.
+
+"I love you!" Rachel had said, hugging her tumultuously.
+
+
+
+
+XXIII
+
+THE OLD PARROTT HOMESTEAD
+
+
+"Come, child." Miss Parrott drew herself out of Rachel's clinging arms.
+
+What should she do now to divert this little girl from her terror and
+distress? She was sorely put to it for the answer. She gathered up the
+nervous hands in one of her own, and led the way out into the wide hall,
+hung with ancestral portraits. "I am going to take you to my own room," she
+said suddenly.
+
+Rachel didn't know the wonderful condescension of this plan for her
+amusement, but she clung to the long, thin fingers, and presently she was
+seated on a cricket covered with tambour work, and watching Miss Parrott's
+movements about the spacious apartment.
+
+"Move your cricket over here, child." Miss Parrott was unlocking what
+looked to Rachel's eyes like a big cupboard that stood out from the wall.
+It had little panes of glass all criss-crossed with strips of white wood
+across its face, and a set of drawers beneath. And as Rachel obediently
+carried the cricket over and set it down where Miss Parrott indicated, her
+chief attention was still upon this curious cupboard, and what Miss Parrott
+was doing in it, for the door now stood open.
+
+Rachel leaned forward on her cricket and rested her hands on her knees. On
+the shelves was such an array of articles, that to the child's gaze,
+nothing stood out distinctly as an object to lavish one's sole attention
+upon. But Miss Parrott made early choice, and lifting out a big doll from
+one of the lower shelves, she laid it in Rachel's lap.
+
+"I used to play with it," she said softly.
+
+Rachel looked down upon the doll in her lap. It was long and hard and
+angular as to body, and its face was a dull white, except some patches of
+pink on the outer edge of the cheeks, showing the rest of the coloring to
+have been worn away. Its eyes were staring up into Rachel's in such an
+expressionless, unpleasant manner that she involuntarily turned away her
+own.
+
+"Her name is Priscilla," said Miss Parrott, looking down at Rachel, which
+called her to herself and the necessity of attention to these efforts to
+amuse her.
+
+"Yes'm," said Rachel.
+
+"Now I don't suppose you know how much I loved this doll," said Miss
+Parrott, turning her back on the cupboard, to draw up a chair opposite
+Rachel and seat herself upon it, "but I used to take her to bed with me
+nights."
+
+"Did you?" said Rachel, beginning to finger the doll with sudden interest.
+
+"Yes, and I made her clothes and talked to her, and sometimes I called her
+'Sister,'" said Miss Parrott, quite gone in remembrance.
+
+"Oh!" said Rachel.
+
+"You see, she was all I had. I was the youngest, and my real sister was
+married and away, and my brothers were men when I was a little girl."
+
+"Oh!" said Rachel again.
+
+"And so I had to make believe that Priscilla was alive," said Miss Parrott,
+her eyes glowing with remembrance of her childhood, brought so singularly
+near on this morning; "I really had to Rachel."
+
+"I've got a child," said Rachel, growing suddenly communicative, and
+looking up from the old doll to watch the effect of her announcement.
+
+"Have you, dear?" responded Miss Parrott, quite pleased at the bright face,
+from which the last tear had been wiped away.
+
+"Yes, my Phronsie gave her to me, and she sleeps with me," said Rachel, in
+great satisfaction.
+
+"I suppose she is very much like Priscilla," observed Miss Parrott.
+
+"Oh, no, she isn't," declared Rachel promptly, turning her mind again to
+the ancient doll; "my child is pretty and she shuts her eyes. She isn't a
+bit like yours."
+
+"Well, Priscilla was always pretty to me," said Miss Parrott, astonished
+that she felt so little the slight to her child. "Well, now, Rachel, we
+will put the doll aside. You may lay it on the bed and then come back
+here."
+
+Rachel got off from her cricket and went over to the other side of the
+apartment.
+
+"My, what a funny bed!" she exclaimed, using her eyes to their utmost to
+see as much of the canopy, with its tester of blue and white chintz, the
+four posts beneath, and the counterpane executed in honeycomb pattern.
+
+Miss Parrott, exploring her cupboard to get out something else with which
+to entertain Rachel, did not hear her; so she slowly returned, walking
+backward to observe as much of this queer article of furniture as the time
+allowed. In this way she fell over the cricket.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Parrott, pulling her head out of the cupboard,
+"did you hurt yourself, child?"
+
+"No'm," said Rachel, getting up with a very red face, and exceedingly
+ashamed. "I don't believe I broke it." She set the cricket up in its proper
+position and anxiously examined it all over.
+
+"Oh, no," said Miss Parrott reassuringly, "the cricket is not harmed. See
+here, Rachel"--she held in her hand a long string of little irregular
+things that dangled as she turned toward her--"I am going to put these on
+your neck. Now stand still, child." And suiting the action to the words,
+something snapped with a little click under Rachel's chin.
+
+Rachel looked down quickly at the queer little odd-shaped red things,
+hanging over her breast.
+
+"I used to wear them when I was a little girl, very much smaller than you,"
+said Miss Parrott, her head on one side and falling back to see the effect.
+
+"What are they?" asked Rachel, not daring to lay a finger on them, and
+holding her breath at the idea of being within the magnificent circle of
+Miss Parrott's early adornments.
+
+"Red coral beads," said Miss Parrott, smiling at the nice contrast between
+the necklace and the dark little face above. "Now, child, you are going to
+wear them whenever you come to visit me and as long as you stay. And that
+means they will not come off till to-morrow, for you are to sleep here
+to-night."
+
+"I haven't any nightgown," said Rachel, who by this time liked to stay well
+enough, but seeing here an insuperable objection.
+
+"That's easily managed," said Miss Parrott, quickly; "I shall send a note
+to the parsonage, saying you will stay, and----"
+
+At the mention of "note" Rachel suddenly collapsed, and a look of terror
+spread over her face.
+
+"Oh, I forgot," she cried.
+
+"Why, what is the matter, child?" demanded Miss Parrott, in great concern.
+
+"I must go and get it," said Rachel wildly, and, dashing blindly off, she
+left Miss Parrott standing in front of her ancestral cupboard holding her
+childish treasures, to rush over the long and winding back stairs. At their
+end she found herself hopelessly entangled in an array of back passages and
+little old-fashioned apartments, from which, run as she would, she could
+never seem to find the right exit.
+
+Her progress was noted with indignation and contempt by as many of the old
+retainers in the Parrott service as could be gathered at short notice, and
+their calls to her to leave the premises, accompanied by sundry shakings of
+a long crash towel in the hands of the cook, only impeded Rachel's hope of
+success.
+
+"I don't know the way out," she cried at last, finding herself in a big
+closet whose door, being open, she fondly trusted would allow her passage
+out into the free air.
+
+"Well, 'tisn't here," said an angry voice, and the brandishing of a big,
+iron spoon made Rachel beat a hasty retreat, this time into the back hall.
+Miss Parrott was just descending the stairs, her stiff, black silk skirt
+held high, before she set foot in the servants' quarters.
+
+"Child, child," she said in reproach, "what _is_ the matter?"
+
+"Oh, I've lost the note--I mean, I forgot it." Rachel flew to her and
+wailed it all out.
+
+"She's crying, that bad girl is, all over Mistress's front breadth,"
+announced Joanna, the parlor maid, through the little window of the
+butler's pantry.
+
+"La me!" ejaculated the cook, raising her hands and the crash towel, "to
+think of our mistress so demeaning herself!"
+
+"What note?" cried Miss Parrott, in great bewilderment. "Rachel, stop
+crying at once and speak plainly. What note do you mean?"
+
+"The one Mrs. Henderson gave me," cried Rachel; "I must go and get it, but
+I don't know the way out."
+
+"To give to me? Did Mrs. Henderson tell you to give it to me?" asked Miss
+Parrott, beginning to see light.
+
+"Yes'm. Oh, please let me out," begged Rachel; "I left it in the carriage."
+
+"Ah--well, then, we'll go out this way." And there, turning to the left,
+was the passage down which Rachel had plunged twice before, and at its end,
+a small green door, that, when opened, led out through an arbor overrun
+with creepers, to a short cut to the stables.
+
+"Now, then!" Miss Parrott gathered up the train of her black silk gown and
+put it over her arm; then in full view of the latticed window of the
+kitchen and scullery department, she sallied forth across the greensward to
+the stables beyond, Rachel's brown hand tucked in her own.
+
+"Laws a me!" It was the scullery maid who screamed this out. "She's got on
+Miss Parrott's coral beads."
+
+"You're a ninny!" cried the cook, turning on her in disdain; "go back to
+your pots and kettles, Ann. Whatever would she have to do with the
+Mistress's beads? It's some old string you see around her neck."
+
+"It tell you it's Miss Parrott's red beads!" declared Ann stoutly. She
+might be sent back to her work among the pots and kettles, but she would
+stick fast to her tale. "I seen 'em when I went up to Miss Parrott's room
+with the bellows I'd cleaned this very morning, through the little winders
+to her cupboard, an' I'd know 'em anywhere."
+
+The cook stamped her foot, shaking the crash towel which she still
+retained, and Ann withdrew to those inner precincts that were considered
+her department.
+
+Meanwhile, Miss Parrott was talking to Simmons, who, touching his hat
+respectfully when he saw her approach, now came up to await her commands.
+
+"Have the goodness to open the brougham door, Simmons," said Miss Parrott,
+going through the carriage house to the corner where that ancient vehicle
+was stored.
+
+Simmons obeyed wonderingly, with an eye askance at Rachel, by the other
+side of Miss Parrott, eagerly pressing forward.
+
+"Now jump in," said Miss Parrott, but this command was not needed, for
+Rachel was already within the family coach and prowling around on the old
+green leather cushion and over the floor with both nervous hands.
+
+"It isn't--oh, yes, it is!" and up she came, red and shining, to hold out a
+small, white envelope.
+
+Miss Parrott leaned against the brougham, and broke the seal. Rachel, her
+whole heart in one glad thrill of joy, made little sign except to heave a
+deep sigh of relief that the note had been found. Simmons, seeing no excuse
+for lingering further, went back to one of the carriages to go through the
+form of inspecting its exterior, while he still kept an eye employed in the
+direction of his mistress.
+
+"Dear Miss Parrott" (so the note ran), "I really do not think it is wise to
+ask Rachel to remain over night. I will explain later. Another time,
+perhaps she may do so. Yours respectfully, Almira Henderson."
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Parrott to herself, and, folding up the little
+note into many creases, she stood lost in thought. "Well, I suppose I must
+yield to the parson's wife, for she has some good reason. But the child
+shall stay next time."
+
+Rachel, whose spirits had risen, since it was quite positive that the note
+was not lost, now seized Miss Parrott's hand and hopped and skipped by her
+side across the green grass on their return to the mansion. Simmons came
+out of his retirement, his chamois skin with which he had been ostensibly
+polishing up a carriage, still in his hand, to stand in the doorway to
+watch them.
+
+"Well, I _am_ surprised," he declared, quite slowly and impressively,
+as befitted a serving-man to an old genteel family.
+
+"Oh, let's go in there," cried Rachel, catching sight of the tall
+hollyhocks behind a wicket gate and pulling at the long, slender fingers.
+
+Miss Parrott hesitated.
+
+"Well, just one peep," she said, "for it is near to luncheon time," and she
+pulled out the watch from her belt. But to Rachel "a peep" meant all the
+world, so she dropped the fingers and raced through the gateway, to get
+there first and thus make it last as long as possible.
+
+"Oh, oh!" she cried, her little dark face aflame with delight, "it's the
+most beautiful place." Then she began to run up and down all the narrow
+paths marking the circles and hearts and diamonds in which the
+old-fashioned garden was laid out, and sniffing the fragrance as she ran.
+
+Miss Parrott seated herself on a stone seat by the fountain in the center.
+Her delight was quite equal to Rachel's, and the thin, wrinkled face
+assumed a more peaceful expression than it had carried for many a day, so
+that when Hooper came to summon her to luncheon, he was fairly taken aback
+at its unwonted cheer.
+
+"Rachel!" Miss Parrott's voice had a pleasant ring to it. Rachel came
+dancing along a little curving path, the red coral beads flying up and down
+on her breast, her cheeks nearly as red. "Oh, it's perfectly beautiful
+here," she cried.
+
+"Do you like it?" Miss Parrott's thin cheek glowed, too. It carried her
+back to the day when she as a child had been skipping in that old garden,
+and her heart gave a throb at the thought that there were perhaps in store
+for her many delights yet, through Rachel's enjoyment of the old-fashioned
+flowers and shrubs.
+
+"But come, child," she brought herself up suddenly to say, with a little
+laugh; "Hooper has summoned us to luncheon, and we must obey."
+
+"Do you have to obey a servant?" asked Rachel, coming out of her dance to
+fall into step by her side, and looking up with wide-open eyes.
+
+"Always," said Miss Parrott most positively, "else they won't obey me, if I
+don't. It's system that makes everything comfortable, Rachel."
+
+As Rachel knew nothing whatever about system, she followed silently, her
+small head full of the beautiful garden in which she had been rioting, and
+which--oh, joy!--Miss Parrott promised she should visit again, when the
+luncheon was over. And seated at the polished mahogany table, she was so
+lost in thought that Miss Parrott, in state at the other end, was obliged
+to speak to her twice before she looked up.
+
+"Finish your soup, child," said Miss Parrott.
+
+Rachel hadn't even begun it, and she now seized the first thing upon which
+her hand rested, a heavy silver fork. Hooper, back of his mistress's chair,
+darted forward to put the right implement before her. But Rachel gave him a
+withering glance that stopped him half-way. "You don't need to come. I've
+got it"; and she held up her spoon triumphantly, and ever after, all
+through the meal, she seemed to view his necessary advances as so many
+affronts, intended to show up her lack of manners, and she exercised all
+her wits to keep him at bay. So that the old butler was glad when the meal
+was over.
+
+But long before that time arrived, Rachel had leaned back in her tall,
+carved chair, letting her knife and fork rest on her plate, while she
+feasted her eyes over the table, what it held, and then around the whole
+apartment.
+
+"There's some of the same flowers like the ones in the garden," she said,
+bringing her gaze back to point to the old-fashioned silver vase and its
+nodding clusters in the center of the table. "What are they?"
+
+"Those are larkspur," said Miss Parrott, craning her neck to see around the
+high silver service from which she poured her tea.
+
+"And what's the other, this side?" Rachel bobbed over on her chair, till
+Hooper involuntarily closed his eyes, expecting she would go entirely off
+from her chair, and he didn't want to see it, it would be so disgraceful at
+a Parrott table.
+
+"That?" Miss Parrott, too, leaned over on her chair. "Oh--why, that's a
+ragged robin, Rachel."
+
+"_Ragged robin!_" repeated Rachel, hopping off from her chair. "Oh, I
+want to see it," and she ran around the table-end, and leaned over to get a
+better view. "'Tisn't a bit ragged," she cried, very much disappointed,
+"and besides, he isn't there."
+
+"Oh, Rachel!" exclaimed Miss Parrott, in dismay. "You must not do so; we
+never leave our chairs when we are at the dining-table."
+
+Rachel, thus admonished, scuttled back to her seat, while Hooper groaned
+and pretended not to see anything. But she kept her black eyes fastened on
+the ragged robins. "There isn't any bird there," she said.
+
+"What, child?"
+
+"You said there was a robin in those flowers," said Rachel again, using her
+little brown fingers to designate the vase and its contents, "and that he
+was ragged, and there isn't any."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Miss Parrott; then she laughed. "The flowers are
+called ragged robins, Rachel," she said.
+
+"Oh!" said Rachel; then she laughed, too, a merry little peal, that just
+bubbled over because she was happy.
+
+"Now eat your luncheon," said Miss Parrott. "Hooper, you may give her some
+more milk."
+
+"I don't want any more milk," said Rachel, waving him off with quite an
+air. "I've got lots and lots"--peering into her cup. She took up her knife
+and fork again, but, looking over them, found so many things to call for
+more attention than they seemed to be worthy of, that she soon laid them
+down again upon her plate.
+
+"Where did you used to sit when you was a little girl?" she asked suddenly,
+when she had been reflecting a bit.
+
+"I? Oh, I sat at the side of the table," said Miss Parrott, starting, as
+she was thus hastily summoned down into her past.
+
+"Then can't I sit there now?" cried Rachel, flying out of her chair again.
+"Say, can't I? Do let me." She ran clear around the table and hung over
+Miss Parrott's chair.
+
+Hooper groaned again and looked steadfastly out of the opposite window.
+
+"My child," exclaimed Miss Parrott; her tone was very grave, but she put
+her long arm around Rachel and drew her closely to her, "remember what I
+said: you must not leave your chair during a meal."
+
+"I forgot," Rachel flew back again, not waiting for her request to be
+granted, and sat down meekly in her place.
+
+"And you must eat something," continued Miss Parrott, glancing at the
+little girl's plate, and with dreadful qualms at her old heart for having
+been severe. "If you don't, Rachel, Mrs. Henderson won't let you come here
+again."
+
+The solemn butler folded and unfolded his hands, while his face expressed
+the belief that such a calamity could possibly be borne.
+
+"And if you didn't come, Rachel"--Miss Parrott took up her cup of tea, and
+set it down again untouched--"I should feel very sorry; I should indeed,"
+she added, with a little catch in her throat.
+
+"So should I," said Rachel abruptly; then she picked up her knife and fork
+and began to eat as fast as she could.
+
+"Oh, my dear!" cried Miss Parrott, quite horrified, "not so fast! Pray
+don't, Rachel"--looking down the table-length in distress.
+
+Rachel by this time was alive to the disgrace she was undergoing, and she
+turned quite pale, and deserting her food altogether, sat stiff and
+straight on her chair, too miserable to care for anything. Miss Parrott
+bore this for a breathing-space, and then without a warning she slipped off
+from her chair and went quickly down to the end of the table.
+
+"I'm not blaming you, you poor little thing," she declared, bending over
+the dark hair; "don't think so, Rachel."
+
+Rachel turned with a swift movement and hid her face in the laces falling
+from Miss Parrott's breast.
+
+"I want to go home to Mrs. Henderson's," she sobbed.
+
+"We don't care for any more luncheon, Hooper," said Miss Parrott hoarsely,
+taking Rachel's hand, "We will go into the other room," and she led her off
+sobbing.
+
+When Rachel reached Hooper, however, standing petrified with surprise, she
+looked up at him defiantly and brushed the tears from her cheek.
+
+And after they had passed out, Hooper still stood in a daze. At last he
+came out of it, and, ejaculating, "Well, I never did!" he began to clear
+the table.
+
+Once outside, Miss Parrott turned suddenly.
+
+"We'll go back to the garden," she said.
+
+This pleased Rachel very much, and she forgot her distress and
+mortification, and actually smiled up into the old face.
+
+"Your hand's shaking," she announced, turning her gaze to the long, slender
+fingers covering her own little brown palm.
+
+"Is it?" said Miss Parrott absently.
+
+"Yes, it shakes dreadfully," said Rachel, with a critical air.
+"Look!"--pointing down at it.
+
+"Oh, that is nothing," began Miss Parrott; then she stopped suddenly and
+put both hands on the thin little shoulders. "Oh, child," she said
+brokenly, "I did so hope you'd like me, for I've nothing in this world to
+live for, Rachel, and now you want to go back to the parsonage."
+
+"Oh, I don't want to go back--I do love you!" cried Rachel, in great alarm,
+and she raised her little brown hands and actually smoothed the long,
+wrinkled face between them. "Don't look so. you look dreadful," she
+pleaded.
+
+For at the touch of those childish hands over her face, Miss Parrott broke
+utterly down, all her aristocratic traditions falling away in a second of
+time, to reveal her lonely, hopeless life. And she sobbed in a way very
+hard for any onlooker to hear. To Rachel, powerless to stop her, it seemed
+the most terrible thing in all this world, and she burst out in her misery:
+
+"I'll stay here forever if you'll stop."
+
+That word "forever" did what nothing else could have achieved. It brought
+Miss Parrott to herself. Then it was Rachel who led her about the
+old-fashioned garden, and chattered about the flowers, unmindful whether or
+no she was answered, until presently Miss Parrott was quite recovered, and
+even smiling in a well-pleased way. At last she pulled out her ancient
+watch from her belt.
+
+"Now, Rachel," she said, "you must go back to the parsonage this afternoon,
+for Mrs. Henderson expects you."
+
+"I'll stay if you want me to," said Rachel, moving closer to Miss Parrott's
+side.
+
+"No, dear--not to-day, because it wouldn't be right; the parson and his
+wife only loaned you to me for to-day, but----"
+
+"What's 'loaned'?" interrupted Rachel abruptly, and wrinkling her forehead.
+
+"Why, they only let me have you just for today," said Miss Parrott.
+
+"Oh."
+
+"And so you must go back, but I shall come for you again," and Miss Parrott
+turned a hungry glance down upon the dark little face at her side.
+
+"I'll come," said Rachel, with a sociable nod.
+
+"And, Rachel"--Miss Parrott drew her closer to her side--"you may keep the
+coral beads, dear. That shows you are really coming back to me to stay."
+
+"For ever and always?" cried Rachel, patting the necklace lovingly with one
+hand. "Can I keep 'em just forever? Say, can I?"
+
+"Yes, child"--Miss Parrott's old face smiled in delight at the
+compact--"they are yours to keep all your life. And now," she added
+brightly, "I want you to come into the drawing-room, and----"
+
+"What's 'drawing-room'?" demanded Rachel, who felt it was much better for
+all concerned in a conversation to understand things as they went along.
+
+"Why, that is the parlor," answered Miss Parrott.
+
+"Oh."
+
+"I want to hear you sing, Rachel," cried Miss Parrott longingly. "I can
+hardly wait, come." She hurried the child along with hasty steps, Rachel
+skipping by her side.
+
+"I'll sing," she said, "all you want me to. I know lots and lots of
+things"--until the grand piano in the long, dim drawing-room, not opened
+for many years, was reached. Then she spun down the middle of the
+apartment. "I'm going to dance first," she announced, picking out the skirt
+of her gown on either side. "My, but ain't it dark, here, though!"
+
+
+
+
+XXIV
+
+RACHEL'S FUTURE
+
+
+When the old brougham drew up in front of the colonial door, Miss Parrott
+let her hands fall away from the time-stained piano-keys.
+
+"It can't surely be time for you to go, Rachel."
+
+Then she did a thing she could not remember doing in all her life, she
+deliberately went on with her employment, allowing Simmons to wait on his
+carriage box, while she broke up the system of years that always made her
+punctual to a minute.
+
+"You may sing that over again, Rachel," she said, beginning on the strains
+of the opera that Rachel had gathered from the barrel-organ on the street
+corners.
+
+"Then may I dance again?" begged Rachel. "Please--just once before I go."
+
+"Yes," said Miss Parrott, sitting very straight, and giving all the
+graceful little quirks to the slender fingers which her music-master, long
+since dead and buried, had taught her. "Now begin, child."
+
+So up and down, high and clear, rang Rachel's voice, with no more effort
+than the birds outside put forth, the sound penetrating the ancient walls,
+and paralyzing every domestic, while it nearly made Simmons, outside, fall
+from his box.
+
+"She hain't touched that pianner in ten years," said the cook, in a hushed
+voice. "Oh, me! I'm afraid she's going to die," and she flung her apron
+over her head.
+
+"Die!" exclaimed Hooper, finding his voice. "She won't die with that young
+one here," he added, in scorn.
+
+"Now may I dance?" pleaded Rachel, plucking Miss Parrott's sleeve. "Do let
+me; you said I might."
+
+"Yes," said Miss Parrott, wrenching herself away from the operatic strains,
+to begin on a little old-fashioned jig.
+
+"Oh, that's so funny," giggled Rachel, hopping aimlessly in the center of
+the big drawing-room and trying to keep time. "Do stop; you put me all
+out."
+
+"But that is a dancing-tune," said Miss Parrott, jingling away, "and sister
+and I used to dance quite prettily to it, I remember."
+
+"Well, I can't," said Rachel, hopping wildly, and doing her best to get
+into step. "Oh, dear!" she brought up suddenly, flushed and panting.
+
+"What is the matter, Rachel?" Miss Parrott let her hands rest on the yellow
+ivory keys and looked over her shoulder at her.
+
+"Oh, I can't dance," said Rachel, "when you play so funnily. It doesn't go
+like that; it goes so." She picked up her gown again, and made a sweep off
+in one direction, and then in another, her feet scarcely touching the
+pictured roses and lilies with which the velvet carpet was strewn, all the
+while singing a tune that seemed to carry her off on its own melody. Miss
+Parrott turned around on the music-stool, and watched her breathlessly.
+
+It was therefore much later than the parsonage people expected when the old
+brougham set Rachel down at their gate, and she walked into the house,
+supported on either side by Peletiah and Ezekiel, who had been watching
+there a full hour for her arrival.
+
+"I like her," she said, marching up to the minister's wife. "She gave me
+these"--putting her hand on the red coral beads on her neck--"and I'm
+going back again--to-morrow, I guess."
+
+But it wasn't to stay, that Rachel went back on the morrow; it was only for
+a day. Despite all the pleadings made by Miss Parrott, and all the desire
+of the parson and his wife to please their honored parishioner, and most of
+all, the earnest wish to consent to what would probably be for the child's
+best good, they held firmly to the first statement, that nothing could be
+arranged till Mrs. Fisher and Mr. King had been consulted.
+
+"They have sent the child here to us, and here she must stay until they
+make some other arrangement," they said firmly, and no amount of urging
+could make them say anything else.
+
+So letters had to fly back and forth from the parsonage and the King estate
+in the big city, and Miss Parrott wrote long letters in a pinched,
+lady-like hand in very faint ink, crossing the paper whenever she was
+afraid she hadn't said enough to plead her cause successfully. Which
+condition of mind she was in perpetually, all through these writing days.
+These letters old Mr. King endeavored to read at the first, but he soon
+threw them down impatiently.
+
+"The child shall never go to a woman who has no more sense," he loudly
+declared.
+
+Then Polly or Jasper would hurry in and wade through the missives. And when
+he saw the hungry longing of the desolate soul, and the sweet refinement of
+the writer came out, and the sterling honesty was revealed in the prim
+sentences, he relented and went tumultuously over to the other side.
+
+"Yes, yes, she shall go," he declared, pulling out his big handkerchief to
+blow his nose violently, to remove all suspicion that anything was the
+matter with his eyes; "'twould be the best thing in the world for her. Of
+course she must go."
+
+And so it was finally settled that Rachel was to live at Miss Parrott's and
+be her own little girl, going down to the parsonage every day to learn her
+lessons under Mr. Henderson's care, until the time when she would be ready
+to be sent to such a school as Miss Parrott might select should arrive.
+
+"And she must come and see me sometimes," said Phronsie when the
+announcement was made in the King household. "My little girl may come,
+can't she, Grandpapa?" she begged.
+
+"Yes, yes, child," said old Mr. King warmly; "we all shall want to see
+Rachel now and then."
+
+The Comfort committee being well-established and in fine running order by
+this time, Mrs. Sterling gathering them around her sofa, in her spacious
+sitting-room upstairs, Polly and Alexia saw no reason why they shouldn't
+begin work on the Cooking Club, "because," said Polly, "if we are really
+going to learn how to cook things, why, we ought to begin." And the mothers
+of the several boys and girls who were to form it, taking instantly to the
+idea, the two girls and Jasper set to work to write the notices of the
+first meeting.
+
+"We ought to have another boy," said Jasper, "on the Committee."
+
+Alexia wrinkled up her face. "Oh, don't; boys are so tiresome," she said.
+
+"Why, I am a boy," said Jasper, bursting into a laugh.
+
+"Oh, well, you are different," said Alexia; "we always expect you around."
+
+"Thank you," said Jasper, with a low bow; "I'm sure I ought to feel very
+much complimented, Alexia," and he laughed again,
+
+"Well, I'm sure boys are such nuisances," said Alexia, leaning her long
+arms on the table (they were in the library at Mr. King's), "and besides
+they won't want to come to our Cooking Club, I verily believe, so what's
+the use of having them on the Committee?"
+
+"Oh, yes, they will," declared Jasper eagerly; "you don't know anything
+about it, if you say that. Why, Clare, and Pickering, and ever so many more
+are just wild to be asked."
+
+"Oh, well, then if we've got to have some boy on the Committee," said
+Alexia, accepting the situation, "let's ask Pickering Dodge."
+
+"I'd rather have Pick," said Jasper in a tone of great satisfaction; and
+Polly saying the same thing, it was decided then and there.
+
+"Well, now that matter is off our hands," said Alexia, "let's get to
+writing these old notices," and her hands began to bustle about among the
+little pile of paper and envelopes.
+
+"Hold on," said Jasper; "if Pick is to be on this committee, he must help
+us with these things; and he'll want to, for it will be great fun."
+
+"O bother!" exclaimed Alexia, jerking back her chair, "now we've got to
+wait. You see for yourself what a nuisance it is to try to get you boys in,
+Jasper."
+
+"Oh, I'll get Pick over here in a jiffy," declared Jasper, plunging out of
+the library; "you won't have to wait long for us, Alexia."
+
+It wasn't more than ten minutes by the clock, when in rushed the two boys
+and swarmed around the big table.
+
+"Well, I declare," cried Alexia, looking up admiringly from a receipt book
+which Mrs. Fisher had loaned them, and over which the heads of the two
+girls were bent, "if you boys haven't been quick, though!"
+
+"Haven't we?" cried Jasper, and his eyes twinkled.
+
+"Don't tell," whispered Pickering over his shoulder.
+
+"And what are you two whispering about?" cried Alexia, deserting the
+cook-book: "Now, tell us," she demanded, dreadfully afraid she would miss
+some news.
+
+"Well, you see--" began Jasper.
+
+"Hush--hush!" said Pickering.
+
+"Now don't pay any attention to Pickering," said Alexia, turning a cold
+shoulder to the last-mentioned individual; "do tell us, Jasper, what is
+it?"
+
+"The fact is," said Jasper, laughing, "I didn't have to go for Pickering at
+all; that is, only to the corner. He was coming here."
+
+"And Jasper nearly knocked the breath out of me," finished Pickering, "he
+bolted into me so."
+
+"Well, you were on the wrong side of the pavement," retorted Jasper.
+
+"Is that all?" cried Alexia, horribly disappointed to get no news. "Oh,
+dear me! Well, do sit down, now you have come, and let us get to these
+horrible old notices."
+
+So the boys drew up their chairs, and Polly pushed the cook-book, with an
+affectionate little pat, into the center of the table. "That's what we are
+going to study," she said gleefully.
+
+"Study?" echoed Pickering, with a very long face. "I didn't come over here
+to study; I get enough of that at school," and he glared in a very injured
+way at Jasper.
+
+"Don't get upset," said Jasper, patting him on the back; "you'll like this,
+Pick, I tell you."
+
+"And it's a cook-book," said Polly, laughing merrily.
+
+"All right," said Pickering, immensely relieved, and reaching out his long
+arm, he seized it, and whirled the leaves. "'Lemon pie'--that sounds good.
+'How to cook cabbage'--oh, dear me!"
+
+"See here now"--Jasper seized the book and shut it up with a bang--"no one
+is going to look into that, until we write these notices. Why, we haven't
+even got a Cooking Club yet."
+
+"Give it back," roared Pickering after him, as Jasper hopped out of his
+chair, carrying the book.
+
+"No, sir," cried Jasper, bearing off the book out of the room. "There,
+you'll never find that," he observed, coming back to slip into his seat
+with satisfaction.
+
+"Well, now," said Alexia sweetly, "if you two boys are through scrapping,
+we'll begin on these notices." She picked an envelope off from the pile.
+"Oh, dear me! who is the first one to ask?"
+
+"I think Larry ought to have it," said Polly.
+
+"Oh, Polly Pepper!" exclaimed Alexia, "Larry can't come for ever so long,
+with his collar bone all smashed and his leg hurt. The very idea!"
+
+Polly gave a little shiver, "Well, he would like to be asked," she said.
+
+"And I think so, too," declared Jasper; "a chap would enjoy it twice as
+much to get an invitation when he was abed and couldn't come."
+
+"Well, that's nice to say," cried Alexia, bursting into a loud laugh, in
+which Pickering joined.
+
+"You've done it now," he said, clapping Jasper on the back. "I'm glad of
+it, old chap, after the way you acted about that old cook-book."
+
+"So I have," said Jasper grimly. Then he laughed as hard as the others.
+"Well, you know what I mean, and we ought to give Larry the first
+attention."
+
+"I'm going to write the notice to him," declared Alexia, dipping her pen in
+the ink-well and beginning with a flourish. But she threw it down before
+she had finished his first name. "Polly, you ought to write the first
+notice," she cried; "you proposed the Club."
+
+"That's no matter," said Polly, "so long as we are going to have the Club.
+Go ahead, Alexia."
+
+"No, I'm not going to," said Alexia obstinately, and leaning back in her
+chair; "you've just got to do it, Polly, so there!"
+
+"There'll be no peace, Polly, for any of us until you do," said Pickering,
+thrusting his hands lazily into his pockets.
+
+"And I think people would do better to go to work and help," said Alexia
+decidedly, "than to set other people against--oh, dear me!" as she found
+herself hopelessly entangled.
+
+"You would do better to get yourself out of that sentence, Alexia," laughed
+Jasper, "before you do anything else."
+
+"Well, I don't care," said Alexia, joining in the general laugh; "it's too
+mean for anything, Pickering, to say I fight, when everybody knows I suffer
+just everything before I say a word."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" cried Pickering faintly.
+
+"And when you two stop sparring," said Jasper, "perhaps we can do some
+work. Come now, Polly and I don't propose to do the whole."
+
+Alexia, at this, scrabbled up another envelope, and began to write as fast
+as she could. And Pickering selecting a pen and getting down to business,
+the room began to assume a very work-like aspect.
+
+"Now that's done," said Alexia, tossing aside the envelope. "I've addressed
+notice number two."
+
+"Whose is it?" asked Pickering, glancing up from his own to the scrawling
+characters where the envelope lay face uppermost on the table. "Who is
+number two, Alexia?"
+
+"You mustn't see," cried Alexia, twitching it away; "you go on and address
+your own, Pickering, and let mine alone."
+
+"Well, I've seen already," said Pickering coolly. "It would be impossible
+not to read your writing a mile off, Alexia."
+
+"Well, that's much better than to write such mean, lazy little words that
+nobody can make them out," she retorted.
+
+"Oh, clear! we haven't a pattern of the notice made yet," said Polly,
+leaning back in her chair, after the labor of getting the first envelope
+addressed; and she pushed up the little brown rings of hair from her brow,
+for Polly didn't like very well to write, and it always took her some time
+to achieve anything in that line. "Jasper, you draw up one, do," she
+begged.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" cried Jasper, aghast, "I can't, Polly; you can do it much
+better."
+
+"Misery me!" exclaimed Polly, "I couldn't do it in all this world," and she
+looked so distressed that Jasper hastened to say:
+
+"Come along then, Pick, and help me out, and I'll try."
+
+But Picketing protesting that he didn't know any more how to write such a
+notice than Prince lying on the rug before the fire, Jasper in despair drew
+up a sheet of paper, and wrote in big staring letters and with a great
+flourish, clear across the top of the page:
+
+"ATTENTION."
+
+"Goodness me!" cried Pickering, his pale eyes following Jasper's pen, "it
+looks like a fire-alarm summons."
+
+"Or just like Miss Salisbury when she's going to say something quite ugly
+and horrid," said Alexia, with a grimace.
+
+"Oh, Alexia!" said Polly.
+
+"Well, it does," said Alexia; "you know for yourself, Polly, she always
+stands up quite stiff on the platform and says, 'Attention, young ladies!'
+Oh, I quite hate the word, because we all have to look at her."
+
+"Well, it does good service then," said Jasper coolly, "since it makes you
+do the very thing wanted."
+
+"And we wouldn't mind looking at her," said Alexia, running on with her
+reminiscences, "if she didn't make us do every single thing she says."
+
+"That's too bad," said Jasper, with a laugh, and flourishing away on the
+second line of the notice.
+
+"You needn't laugh," said Alexia grimly; "I guess you wouldn't if you had
+our Miss Salisbury at your school, Jasper King."
+
+"Is she any worse than our Mr. Fraser?" said Jasper. "I wonder. I tell you
+what, Alexia, he keeps us boys at it! Doesn't he, Pick?"
+
+"Well, I rather guess," said Picketing concisely, but his look told
+volumes.
+
+"Oh, you boys have an easy enough time," said Alexia, with a sniff, "and
+you are always grumbling about how hard it is, while I don't say a word,
+but just bear things."
+
+"I'm so sorry for poor Miss Salisbury," observed Pickering, lazily watching
+Jasper's efforts.
+
+"Well, you needn't be," retorted Alexia; "she's very fond of me, Miss
+Salisbury is, and I don't in the least know what she'd do if I left her
+school. But I never shall go away, for I just dote on her."
+
+"It looks like it," said Pickering, with a laugh.
+
+"Well, I do," declared Alexia; "she's my very sweetest friend, except Polly
+Pepper, so there!"
+
+"Oh, dear me! I don't know what next to say," cried Jasper, holding off the
+notice at arm's length, and scowling at it dreadfully.
+
+"You ought to see your face, Jasper," cried Alexia. "Dear me! it's
+positively awful."
+
+"Well, it's not half as bad as I feel," said Jasper, "with this terrible
+old notice weighing me down."
+
+"'Attention'," drawled Pickering, reading the two lines. "'You are
+requested to appear--'"
+
+"Hold on!" cried Jasper, turning over the notice. "Who told you to read it
+out, pray tell?"
+
+"I'm on the Committee, I'd have you know," said Pickering coolly.
+
+"Well, we'll pitch you out," said Jasper, "neck and heels, if you don't
+take care. Well, but really this is awful work." He whirled over the notice
+again, and glared at it savagely.
+
+"Why don't we just say, 'A Cooking Club is to be formed'?" proposed Polly,
+"and----"
+
+"Oh, that will be elegant," interrupted Alexia, clapping her hands. "Oh,
+Polly, you write it."
+
+"Oh, I couldn't," said Polly, drawing back.
+
+"Yes, Polly. do," begged Jasper.
+
+"Oh, no, you write it," said Polly.
+
+"Well, then, you tell me what to say," said Jasper, laughing.
+
+"She did," said Alexia impatiently. "A Cooking Club is to be
+formed'--didn't you hear her?"
+
+"I have that," said Jasper, scribbling away on a fresh piece of paper. "Now
+what next?"
+
+"Go on, Polly," said Alexia.
+
+"Well--oh, 'Will you please come to the first meeting?'"
+
+"'And see how you like it,'" finished Alexia; "that's just elegant--do
+write it down, Jasper."
+
+"You may be sure I will," cried Jasper, vastly pleased that he was to be
+helped out, and finishing it all up with great energy. "Well, what else?"
+and he poised his pen in air and looked at Polly.
+
+"Why, isn't that enough?" said Polly, a little pucker beginning to come on
+her forehead.
+
+"I should think so," said Pickering; "it tells all the story."
+
+"And they will come, you may be sure," said Jasper, holding off the notice
+again, this time for everybody's inspection, "and that's the main thing."
+
+"And now we can all begin to write them," said Alexia, in great
+satisfaction, seizing her pen, which she had dropped. "Do put it in the
+middle of the table, Jasper, where we can all see."
+
+"Wait till I write a good one," said Jasper, beginning on a fresh sheet of
+paper. "I was hurrying so to get it all down; you can hardly read it." So
+he wrote it out in his best hand, then propped the notice up against the
+book-rack. "Now begin," he said.
+
+"Let's race," cried Alexia, already scrawling the first words at a great
+rate.
+
+"Oh, dear me! we shan't do it decently then," said Polly, in alarm. "I
+mean, I shan't, if we race."
+
+"Nor I, either," said Jasper.
+
+"Well, I'm not going to race, anyway," declared Pickering, making slow,
+lazy strokes with his pen; "it's quite bad enough to have to write these
+odious things, without breaking one's neck over them."
+
+"Well, don't let's talk," said Alexia, seeing that she couldn't have any
+part in the conversation since all her mind had to go into her task. "Oh,
+dear me! I left out the dot to my 'i,' and misery! there's a blot! It was
+all because I was listening to you, Pickering Dodge."
+
+"Well, we'll all be as still as mice now," said Polly; so no sound was
+heard save the scratching of pens over the paper, as the work went gayly
+on.
+
+"Oh, isn't it too bad that we can't any of us find that ten-dollar bill
+Joel lost at the garden party?" broke out Alexia, when this sort of thing
+had proceeded for some time.
+
+"Ugh!" cried Polly, and her pen slipped, making an awful scratch and just
+spoiling the best notice she had written.
+
+Jasper raised his head and cast a warning glance over the table at Alexia,
+but it was too late.
+
+"I do believe we shall find it some time," said Polly, scraping away with
+the ink-eraser and only making matters worse.
+
+"Take care, Polly; the ink is too fresh," warned Jasper. "Wait until it
+dries."
+
+"Well, I've smeared it all up now," said Polly, leaning back in her chair
+and viewing her work with despair.
+
+"Perhaps it can be fixed," said Alexia, overwhelmed with distress and
+leaning forward to see the worst. "I 'most know it can; let me try, Polly."
+
+"No, no, Alexia, I wouldn't," said Jasper; "it's quite bad enough already."
+
+"Well, maybe I can do it," persisted Alexia, "if I could only try."
+
+"You may try," said Polly, pushing the paper toward her, when she saw
+Alexia's face, "but it's no matter anyway, I'll write another." And she had
+already begun it when Alexia threw down the ink-eraser.
+
+"It's no sort of use," she said, "and I've made a shocking hole in the
+paper. Oh, dear me!" and she looked so utterly miserable that Polly's brow
+cleared and she began to laugh.
+
+"Dear me!" she said, "it isn't a bit of matter, and see, I've ever so much
+done already on this. And I do believe we shall find that ten-dollar note
+sometime. I do verily believe so, Alexia."
+
+"So do I," cried Jasper heartily.
+
+Pickering said nothing; he didn't really believe the ten-dollar bill would
+ever be found, having helped Jasper to ransack so many possible and
+impossible places, but he wasn't going to say so, and thus add to the
+general gloom.
+
+"And I think it was awfully nice of Joel to do that dreadful work over Mr.
+King's old books, and earn the money," said Alexia.
+
+Polly looked up with a smile. "Wasn't it?" she cried radiantly.
+
+"And Father says Joe does the lists so well," said Jasper heartily; "he
+sticks at it every day like a leech, and there can't anything get him off
+to play till the hour is over."
+
+"Well, I don't see how he can," said Alexia, drawing a long breath. "Dear
+me, it would just tire me to death. Why, Polly Pepper!" Alexia threw clown
+her pen and stared at her. "When is the first meeting to be?"
+
+"Why, you know," said Polly, writing away, laboriously; "next Wednesday
+evening, of course."
+
+"Well, we don't say so," said Alexia. "How in the world are they to know?"
+
+The other members of the Committee stopped work immediately and glanced
+ruefully at the little pile of notices accumulating in the middle of the
+table.
+
+"We can never write those all over," began Polly tragically.
+
+Pickering put out a long hand and picked out from the pile the one he had
+written.
+
+"I shall just write, 'Wednesday evening, July 21st,' down in one corner,"
+he said.
+
+"Oh, goody!" exclaimed Alexia, her face brightening; "I shall do mine
+so"--pulling out her scrawls from the heap of notices.
+
+"But we don't tell where the meeting is to be," said Jasper after they had
+all fallen to work again.
+
+At this second fright no one seemed to be able to speak. It was Alexia who
+first found her voice.
+
+"Why not put it in the other corner?" she said.
+
+"And that just balances," said Jasper, holding one of his notices up when
+the two additions had been made, "so it really looks better than ever."
+
+"But we mustn't make any more blunders," observed Pickering wisely, "for we
+haven't any extra corners to go to now."
+
+"Oh, we aren't going to make any," declared Alexia, "and we will soon be
+through, thank goodness!"--as the pens set up lively work once more.
+
+"I hope so." Polly gave a long sigh. "Oh, dear me! it wouldn't be one-half
+so hard to do cooking for the Club, as to write a single one of these
+things."
+
+
+
+
+XXV
+
+JACK PARISH
+
+
+"Grandpapa!" Joel came in with a shout, rushed around the room two or three
+times, and finally came up to the big writing-table, quite blown.
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed old Mr. King, laying down his pen, "have you really
+got through, Joe?"
+
+"Grandpapa," said Joel, his black eyes shining, and bobbing over his head
+to get a good look into the old gentleman's face, "she's asked him, she
+really has!"
+
+"Who?" asked Mr. King, very much puzzled.
+
+"Mrs. Sterling," said Joel, in a tone of the greatest satisfaction. Then he
+began to dance again, snapping his brown fingers to keep time.
+
+"When you come out of that war dance, Joel," said old Mr. King, leaning
+back in his big chair to laugh at him, "perhaps you'll have the goodness to
+tell me whom you are talking about all this time."
+
+Joel stopped his mad career and ran up to the old gentleman's side.
+
+"Why Jack Parish--I thought you knew, Grandpapa," he added reproachfully.
+
+"I suppose I might have known if I'd stopped to consider that you've talked
+your Parish boy every day since the little affair on the pond," said Mr.
+King, still laughing. "Well, and so Mrs. Sterling has invited your friend,
+Joel, to some festivity, I suppose, eh?"
+
+"Yes," said Joel, "she has"--his satisfaction returning--"it's a supper at
+her house, to-morrow night, Grandpapa." He leaned over to bring his brown
+cheek close to the one under the white hair. "Just think of that!"
+
+"Whew!" ejaculated the old gentleman, "and she hasn't had company for ten
+years!"
+
+"Well, she's going to have us, every single one in the Comfort committee,"
+declared Joel decidedly, "and she asked Jack, most particularly; she did,
+Grandpapa--she really did. May I go down and tell him now? May I,
+Grandpapa?" he cried eagerly.
+
+"Why, if your mother says so, I suppose--" began Mr. King.
+
+"She says I may go, if you think best," cried Joel, hanging to the arms of
+the big chair and having hard work to curb his impatience. "Oh, Grandpapa,
+please hurry and say yes."
+
+Instead of complying with this demand, the old gentleman leaned back in his
+chair and steadily gazed into space while he revolved something in his
+mind. At last, when Joel thought he couldn't brook the delay another
+minute, Mr. King whirled suddenly around in his chair.
+
+"I tell you what it is, Joel, you and I will go down to see your friend
+ourselves."
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa!" Joel gave a leap, and seized Mr. King's arm with both
+hands. "Right away now?" he cried, with sparkling eyes.
+
+"Right away now," declared old Mr. King, getting out of his chair; "that
+is, as soon as we can make ourselves presentable for our walk. Goodness me,
+Joe, what a whirlwind you are!"--bursting into another laugh.
+
+Joel didn't care what he was called so long as he was really going to see
+Jack Parish and carry him the wonderful invitation, and all the way down to
+the little grocer's on Common Street he just bubbled over with happiness,
+till everybody who passed the two felt a glow at the heart at the merry
+comrades: and many were the backward glances cast at the old, white-haired
+gentleman of stately mien, with a chubby-faced boy of the jolliest
+appearance hanging to his hand.
+
+"Well, well, well, and so here we are." Old Mr. King looked up curiously at
+the little sign above the door--"Ichabod Parish, Grocer"--then down over
+the shop windows overrunning with canned goods, and, to finish up, an
+outside stall on which jostled and overcrowded each other every description
+of vegetable in the market, from a cabbage down. A fat, red-faced man with
+a big apron that had been white earlier in the day, came out of the shop
+and stood by the stall.
+
+"Anything in our line to-day, sir?" he said. He had a little pad of paper
+in one hand and a pencil in the other.
+
+"Well, yes," said old Mr. King, with a twinkle in his eye, for by this time
+he perceived some lines along the fat cheeks that showed very plainly the
+habit of smiles running up and down in them. "I've come for a boy, if you
+please."
+
+"A boy?" said the fat, red-faced man, laughing, till the round cheeks were
+all wrinkled up. "Well, now, I take it, you're joking, sir."
+
+"Oh, no, I'm not," said old Mr. King very seriously, but the other man had
+been just as observing in his way, and had seen the twinkle in the keen
+eyes. So now he laughed some more and waited patiently for the joke to be
+explained.
+
+"I take it you have a boy named Jack, hereabout," said Mr. King presently.
+
+All the wrinkles dropped suddenly out of the fat, red cheeks. "He hain't
+done nothin' wrong, Jack hain't?" gasped the man.
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa, tell him what we've come for," cried Joel, twitching Mr.
+King's hand, and quite aghast to see the suffering in Jack's father. "Do,
+please, Grandpapa."
+
+Old Mr. King was rapidly exclaiming: "No, no; bless you, did you think I'd
+come at you in such a way? Why, this boy here"--thrusting Joel
+forward--"has got an invitation for him. Now, then Joel, my boy, speak up,"
+
+And Joel did speak up; and in a minute they were all there in the little
+shop, and the fat grocer was bustling around to work a chair out from
+behind the counter. But as the big store cat and several parcels were on
+it, it took a bit of time. Meanwhile, old Mr. King sat down upon a box of
+soap, while Joel hung over his shoulder.
+
+A woman came in with a jug to be filled with molasses, and a small girl for
+a box of matches. But the little grocer told them to wait, and after he had
+placed the chair and gotten Mr. King off from the soap-box and into it, he
+bustled to a door at the head of the shop.
+
+"Ma," he cried, putting his head into the room to which it opened, "do you
+know where Jack is?"
+
+"He's upstairs," said a voice, evidently "Ma's."
+
+"Well, tell him to come down," said the fat grocer.
+
+"All right, Ichabod."
+
+"Jack's to home," announced the grocer, coming back with the air of
+imparting a piece of news, just as much as if every word had not been
+heard. "Well, now, Mis. Jones, I'll fill your jug." He took it from her and
+she settled herself comfortably, during the slow process, to watch the
+stately, white-haired figure in the chair to her heart's content; her
+example being followed by the small girl who had, of course, been obliged
+to wait for the box of matches.
+
+A pair of feet could be heard coming through the room just mentioned.
+
+"I don't know what your Pa wants you for," said a woman's voice; "most
+likely for an errand."
+
+So Jack, free from his sling, for Doctor Fisher had found him surprisingly
+quick at recovery, bolted through the doorway, and into the shop, and
+without a bit of warning brought up against old Mr. Horatio King and Joel.
+
+"Great Scott!" he cried, scared out of his usual shyness.
+
+"Yes," said Joel, sociably bobbing his face into Jack's, "I've come to ask
+you to supper. Mrs. Sterling told me to, most particularly, you know."
+
+"Dear me, Joe!" exclaimed old Mr. King, "do give it to him more slowly";
+for Jack's head of light hair was wagging from one to the other of the
+visitors in great distress.
+
+"I am," said Joel; "awful slow, Grandpapa."
+
+"It doesn't look much like it," said the old gentleman, bursting into a
+laugh. The fat grocer over at the molasses barrel, looked across anxiously
+at the group, and for once in his life wished Mrs. Jones, although one of
+his best customers, anywhere but in his shop.
+
+[Illustration: He stood in the middle of the little shop. ]
+
+"Well, try again, Joel," said Mr. King. So Joel began once more, and before
+long, Jack Parish understood fairly that Mrs. Sterling had actually invited
+him to supper on the following night with the Comfort committee, just as if
+he were not the son of Ichabod Parish, the little grocer on Common Street,
+but were one of the rich boys of Joel Pepper's set.
+
+"Pa," he shouted (he wanted some one of his own family to help understand
+this puzzle), "do come here."
+
+The fat grocer, hearing this cry, could stand it no longer trying to stamp
+out his curiosity; so deserting the molasses barrel and forgetting to turn
+the spigot, he bore off the jug.
+
+"There, Mis. Jones, there you are"--depositing it with a thump on the
+counter, and waddled over to his son and the visitors.
+
+When he comprehended the matter, as after an infinite deal of pains he did,
+his astonishment knew no bounds. It absolutely struck him speechless, and
+there he stood in the middle of the little shop, lost to the fact that he
+was a small grocer on an obscure street. He was the father of Jack,
+hitherto obliged to go with boys of the neighborhood, not of specially nice
+families, with manners and aims to match, now--oh, joy!--with a chance for
+something better, that might reach to unknown heights. He might even become
+an alderman! The little grocer's breast heaved with delight, but even in
+that blissful moment, his first thought was of his wife.
+
+"Won't your mother be proud, Jack!" he made out to utter.
+
+"Your molasses is all runnin' out," proclaimed the small girl who was
+waiting for the box of matches.
+
+And Jack springing to help his father, who bounded to the molasses barrel,
+old Mr. King and Joel took themselves off without any further embarrassment
+to the little grocer, who surely never could in all this world express his
+gratitude as he wanted to.
+
+"Be at my house to-morrow afternoon, and we'll go over together," said
+Joel, with longing glances at the center of bustle around the molasses
+barrel.
+
+"Oh, Grandpapa, how I do wish I could have staid and helped clean up!" Joel
+burst out, as they left the shop.
+
+"Oh, my goodness, Joel!" exclaimed old Mr. King; "such a messy job! How can
+you!"
+
+"It would have been such fun," mourned Joel, wishing he could have free
+access to just such a small grocer's shop, and thinking that Jack was the
+luckiest fellow alive.
+
+"When I grow up, I'm going to have a shop like that," he declared, after
+marching on in silence down the next block and surveying with favor all the
+surroundings of the narrow street.
+
+"I thought you were going to sell tin, like your Mr. Biggs, of Badgertown,"
+said Mr. King mischievously.
+
+Joel hung his head. "I was, but I think a shop would be nicer after all;
+you can have everything in it, you know, Grandpapa."
+
+"Even molasses," put in Mr. King. "Well, I wouldn't decide the matter just
+now, Joel, my boy--which you will be when you are grown up. There's plenty
+of time yet ahead of you."
+
+Jack Parish, with his hair carefully oiled by his anxious mother, and his
+very best clothes on, a circumstance calculated to invest him with dread
+and rob him of every bit of comfort to begin with, presented himself at Mr.
+King's mansion on the next afternoon. His countenance was long, and he
+looked so worried that Joel, rushing out to meet him, involuntarily
+ejaculated, "Oh, dear me!" in dismay.
+
+After regarding each other uncomfortably for a minute, in which Jack began
+to wish himself, a thousand times, back in the little shop, Joel burst out,
+seizing his arm:
+
+"Come up into my room--Dave's and mine," and over the stairs they went.
+
+"Is this your room?" gasped Jack, forgetting his discomfort and staring all
+about.
+
+"Yes, it is," said Joel; "Dave's and mine. See my tennis racket, Jack.
+Isn't it prime!"--darting over to pull it out of a corner.
+
+"I should say it was," declared Jack, fingering it lovingly as Joel thrust
+it into his hand with a, "Do you play?"
+
+"A little," said Jack. He did not think it necessary to add that he was the
+champion player of the Common Street team on the dingy little open space
+given up to goats and tenement-house children.
+
+"That's good!" exclaimed Joel, with shining eyes, and clapping him on the
+back; "we'll have a bout together sometime. And here are my boxing-gloves."
+He seized them and struck an attitude. "Come on, Jack," he cried in huge
+delight.
+
+So Jack did come on, and when he emerged, why, there were the fencing foils
+to try; and when this was all over, and both boys sat down, flushed and
+panting, why, Jack's best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes and his oiled hair
+didn't look so badly, to Joel's way of thinking.
+
+David now ran in.
+
+"It's time to get ready to go to Mrs. Sterling's supper," he said, with a
+nod to Jack.
+
+"So it is," cried Joel, beginning to run here and there for his other shoes
+and clothes.
+
+Jack turned away with a feeling that it wasn't good manners to be looking
+on, and glanced out of the window.
+
+"Come over and look at our butterflies," cried Joel, running over to a
+cabinet against the wall, "they're just beauties."
+
+"Oh, have you collected butterflies?" cried Jack, whirling around, greatly
+excited.
+
+"Yes; Dave and I have," said Joel, "we have lots and lots."
+
+It didn't take Jack long to be over in front of the cabinet, and pulling
+out its many drawers. So that he was lost to all the fuss of dressing that
+Joel and David were undergoing, and it wasn't till he had been clapped on
+the back most vigorously with a, "Wake up, old chap," that he realized that
+the dreaded time had arrived when he must go out to his first company. Then
+a dreadful feeling came over him.
+
+"Oh, I can't go," he declared, his face turning as red as a beet, and he
+stood still, perfectly miserable.
+
+"Why, Mrs. Sterling expects you," began David!
+
+Joel had no such gentle ways.
+
+"Come along, you," he cried, hauling Jack away from the cabinet and
+hurrying him off downstairs. Then he began to chatter as hard as he could,
+saying the first things that came into his head, until the gray stone
+mansion was reached, and they were fast and safe within the door.
+
+Joel drew a long breath and began to mount the stairs.
+
+"Any boys here yet?" he asked, looking up at Gibson in the upper hall.
+
+"Yes," said Gibson; "three boys have come."
+
+Joel didn't wait to ask who they were; he left David to bring Jack along
+and raced in to speak to Mrs. Sterling and the members of the Comfort
+committee.
+
+"I am very glad to see you, Joel." Mrs. Sterling beamed at him from her
+sofa, feeling quite sure of the success of the first company she had given
+to the boys, now that Joel Pepper had come.
+
+Joel gave her a bright little nod; then, remembering himself, he went over
+to her sofa and stuck out his little brown hand.
+
+"I'm glad I've come," he said, bobbing at the same time in great
+satisfaction to the boys.
+
+"Where is your friend, Joel?" asked Mrs. Sterling, in disappointment. "I
+surely thought you would bring him."
+
+Joel glanced around in dismay, then pranced out into the hall. A scuffling
+noise struck upon his ear, and leaning over the banister, he saw David and
+Jack apparently hanging on to each other and whirling around in the hall
+below. He was down over the stairs in a flash.
+
+"He says he must go home," said David, still holding fast to the edge of
+Jack's jacket, and looking up with a very pink face.
+
+Jack looked thoroughly ashamed, but he still cast wild eyes at the big
+front door, as Joel considering whatever was to be done at all, should be
+done quickly, launched him upstairs, and before he had a moment to breathe
+freely, pushed him into the beautiful sitting-room above with a, "Here he
+is."
+
+The room swam all around before Jack, as he went up to the sofa-edge, and
+Mrs. Sterling's soft, white hand took his hot, nervous one. He didn't know
+in the least what she said, or how she looked, as he couldn't raise his
+eyes, but he remembered afterward that her voice was sweet and low, and
+that somehow he wasn't so afraid after that, and then Joel dragged him into
+a knot of boys, for by this time several were pouring into the room. And in
+five minutes Jack felt as if he had known them all for years, and he quite
+forgot that this was the first time he had ever gone into company.
+
+When the bustle of the arrival was over, and every member of the Comfort
+committee was present, Mrs. Sterling said:
+
+"Now I think, Gibson, the first thing we should do is to have supper."
+
+So Gibson went over and touched the electric button on the wall, and in
+came the butler and two maids bearing trays full--well, just crowded with
+all the good things a boy could desire to eat. And these having been placed
+on the big, mahogany table in the center of the room, usually filled with
+books and magazines, but which had been cleared for the purpose, each boy
+was invited to come up and be helped to whatever he wanted, an invitation
+that wasn't long left unaccepted.
+
+Joel, in his fear that Jack would somehow be left out in the cold, bent all
+his energies toward getting him something to eat. The consequence was, that
+he forgot all about waiting on Mrs. Sterling, and, glancing around after he
+had poked a plate of cold chicken and jelly into Jack's hand, he saw two or
+three of the boys--Frick and even little Porter Knapp--vying with each
+other to be the first to serve their hostess.
+
+"Ugh!" cried Joel, seizing the first thing on the table that caught his
+eye. It proved to be the salt-cellar, and he rushed up and presented it
+with a flourish.
+
+"Ho, ho!" exploded Frick, as the little knot of boys parted in the middle,
+"why we've only got her a napkin and a plate."
+
+Joel glanced down ruefully at the salt-cellar in his hand, and was going to
+beat a retreat with it, quite crestfallen.
+
+"Thank you, Joel; I shall want it pretty soon," said Mrs. Sterling, smiling
+into his red face. "There, we'll put it on the table"--for Mrs. Gibson had
+been busy drawing up a light stand to the side of the sofa--"and will you
+bring me some cold chicken?"
+
+"Me?" cried Joel, perfectly radiant, but scarcely believing that he could
+be meant, after his awkwardness.
+
+"Yes, you," said Mrs. Sterling, laughing; "so hurry, and get it, Joel."
+
+No need to tell him that. Joel sprang at the table again, bore off a plate
+of the desired delicacy, and a spoonful of currant jelly by its side, and
+flew back again.
+
+"Is that right?" he asked anxiously, with a dreadful feeling that he ought
+to have asked her if she wanted brown or white meat.
+
+"How did you know I am very fond of white meat, Joel?" asked Mrs. Sterling.
+"And above all things I like the wing."
+
+"Do you?" cried Joel, in a transport. "Now what else?"
+
+"Nothing now, and the next time, why, I must let Frick and some of the
+other boys help me," said Mrs. Sterling, "so run back and get something to
+eat yourself, Joel."
+
+So Joel, with a mind to edge up to see how Jack was getting on, found to
+his amazement that he was laughing and talking with the last boy with whom
+he would have supposed it to be possible--Curtis Park!
+
+"Dear me!" exclaimed Joel to himself, tumbling back instinctively when he
+saw that he wasn't wanted, and he fell up against David.
+
+"I couldn't help it," said Davie, who had been quite miserable since his
+ill success in getting Jack over the stairs after Joel. He was aimlessly
+crumbling up a biscuit on his plate, and eating nothing.
+
+"Well, 'tisn't any matter," said Joel, "and he's here now, and having a
+good time; just hear him laugh," he added enviously.
+
+"Is that Jack laughing?" asked David incredulously, poking his head around
+the intervening boys to see for himself.
+
+"Yes, it is," said Joel, bobbing his head decidedly.
+
+"Oh, well, then, it's all right," said David happily. So he ran off to fill
+his plate and go over in the corner to eat its contents with a group of
+boys of whom he was especially fond.
+
+Joel, left alone, was feeling very dismal, when suddenly he looked over,
+and caught Jack's eye. Curtis Park was saying something very jolly--Joel
+knew it was, for he caught scraps of it, and so did some of the other boys
+who pushed up to hear the rest. But Jack Parish evidently didn't listen,
+for his eye had been anxiously roving around the room, and just at that
+moment, they rested on Joel, and they lighted up so unmistakably that Joel
+sprang forward, a light in his own.
+
+"Did you want me, Jack?"
+
+"Yes," said Jack, "I did." The words were not much, but they seemed to
+satisfy Joel.
+
+
+
+
+XXVI
+
+MR. HAMILTON DYCE A TRUE FRIEND
+
+
+And after every boy protested that he couldn't eat another bit, the butler
+and the two maids packed up the trays and carried them down again.
+
+"Now, Comfort committee," said Mrs. Sterling, "all draw up here."
+
+So the circle of chairs and crickets was made around the sofa, and the real
+business of the evening began. It was in the very commencement of things
+Joel noticed that every one of the members seemed to take a fancy to Jack.
+
+Curtis Park leaned over from his chair. "I say, Frick, change places with
+me." Frick was next to the visitor, Joel, of course, being on his other
+side.
+
+"No, you don't," said Frick, not over politely.
+
+"Oh, that's mean," began Curtis, then he remembered where he was, and sat
+back in his chair, biting his pencil.
+
+Frick straightened himself up with enjoyment
+
+"You can take my pencil," he said to Jack magnanimously; "we all brought
+'em, you know, she wanted us to."
+
+Joel caught the last of this. "Oh, dear me!" he exclaimed, in remorse, "I
+forgot mine; and, Jack, I was going to bring one for you."
+
+"He can take mine," said Frick, shoving a very stubby specimen into Jack's
+hand.
+
+"Mine's better," said Curtis, reaching over a brand-new one, just sharpened
+to a fine point; "take mine, Jack, you much better."
+
+Jack, not knowing how to refuse, took it. And the other boys, seeing Curtis
+Park come down from his high-flown notions enough to notice so
+conspicuously the new boy, all began to find ever so many things in him
+that were worthy of, their attention. So, instead of Joel having to push
+him along, Jack became quite popular. The result was that Joel was left out
+in the cold.
+
+"Now," said Mrs. Sterling brightly, after a little of this chat had been
+going on, and Gibson had shaken up her pillows, and raised her mistress
+into a more comfortable position, "you all know, of course, that Doctor
+Fisher reports Lawrence ready for a little amusement, if we send it to him,
+for no one is allowed yet to see him."
+
+"But we will be soon. Doctor Fisher told my father so yesterday," piped out
+Porter Knapp, sliding to the edge of his chair.
+
+"I don't doubt it," said Mrs. Sterling, smiling at him, "but until that
+good time does come, why we who belong to the Comfort committee ought to
+set to work on something that will cheer him up. And as I believe work of
+that kind always gets along better when ever so many club together at it,
+why, I thought I'd ask you all to meet here, and we'd see what could be
+done this evening. Now what shall we do first?"
+
+She looked all around the circle, but no one spoke. "Oh, dear me!" she
+said, and her face fell.
+
+"I'd rather write out conundrums than anything else," said Curtis Park,
+seeing some answer was expected.
+
+"Good!" Mrs. Sterling beamed on him. "Does any other boy have something to
+propose?"
+
+"Puzzles," said Frick decidedly. "I'd a great deal rather have puzzles;
+conundrums are just horrid."
+
+"Two things to choose from," and Mrs. Sterling laughed. Her spirits were
+rising now, and all the doubts she was beginning to feel overwhelming her
+as to the wisdom of inviting these boys in for the evening, fled at once.
+
+"I think puzzles are just as horrid as conundrums," said Joel Pepper,
+beginning already to feel the prickles run up and down his legs, from
+sitting still so long, and wishing for nothing so much as a good scamper;
+"they're both as horrid as they can be."
+
+"Oh, Joel!" exclaimed Mrs. Sterling, quite crestfallen.
+
+"Well, propose something yourself, then, Joe," said his next neighbor, with
+a nudge.
+
+"Oh, I can't," said Joel, quite horrified; "I don't know anything that we
+can write down."
+
+Jack leaned over and whispered in his ear.
+
+"The very thing!" cried Joel, slapping his knee. And, "Tell it yourself,
+Jack," in the next breath.
+
+"Oh, no, no," protested Jack, shrinking as far back in his chair as he
+could, and getting very red in the face.
+
+"I very much wish you would, Jack," said Mrs. Sterling. And she looked at
+him in such a way, that Jack although he had wild thoughts of taking a
+flying leap out of his chair, and off to the small grocery shop,
+nevertheless stuck to it manfully and at last found his tongue.
+
+"We might cut out pictures that spell the names of books," he said.
+
+"Capital!" said Mrs. Sterling.
+
+"Well, those are puzzles," said Frick.
+
+"Well, not like the ones you meant," said Joel, leaning back of Jack to
+bestow a punch. "Do be still," he added furiously.
+
+"But mine would be puzzles, anyway," declared Frick, unwilling to give up
+the point.
+
+"Well, we'd much rather have these, anyway," said Curtis Park, projecting
+himself into as much of the circle as possible. "Who cares for your old
+puzzles, Frick?"
+
+"Boys--boys," said Mrs. Sterling gently.
+
+"Beg pardon," said Curtis. "But we really do want these that Jack has just
+proposed, Mrs. Sterling. At least I do, and I'd give up conundrums to have
+them; so please let us have these."
+
+"How is it, Frick?" asked Mrs. Sterling. "Do you give up your puzzles in
+favor of our making Jack's pictures?"
+
+Frick wriggled in his chair; he wanted his puzzles dreadfully, and he
+couldn't see, since he had proposed them first, why he shouldn't carry the
+day, but every boy was looking at him sharply, so he mumbled, "Yes."
+
+It was Jack who settled it happily after all.
+
+"Let's have one of his"--bobbing his head at Frick--"and a conundrum," and
+he looked over and smiled at Curtis, "then one of mine after that. Won't
+that do, ma'am?"
+
+"Well, now, Jack, you've fixed it cleverly," said Mrs. Sterling, much
+relieved. "Get your pencils all ready while Gibson goes into my bedroom and
+brings out the pile of magazines, and we'll have such a lovely evening of
+work. You know you must each select pictures, and each write a puzzle, and
+each give a conundrum; then they must be read aloud and we will choose the
+very best ones to send. Now then "--as Gibson deposited her armful of
+magazines on the little stand, and laid several pairs of scissors on the
+top of the pile--"let us all set about it."
+
+Then what a whirling of leaves and snipping of paper, because they all
+decided they would begin on Jack's first.
+
+"Can't we have some mucilage?" asked Joel.
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Sterling. "Gibson, will you get----"
+
+Boom, boom, clang, clang, clang! It was the fire-bell, loud and clear and
+strong. Down went all the scissors, and a whole litter of papers to the
+floor, and the magazines sprawled every way, as each boy sprang out of his
+chair.
+
+"Gibson," said Mrs. Sterling faintly.
+
+"Now, you boys," cried Gibson, hurrying in, her cap strings flying in her
+perturbation, "don't you know no better than to jump up like that?"
+
+"Gibson--Gibson," said Mrs. Sterling reprovingly, but she laid her hand on
+her heart.
+
+"It's a fire!" cried Joel, with very red cheeks, whirling around from the
+window where the mass of boys was pressed.
+
+"Well, is that any reason why you should act so and scare the mistress to
+death?" said Gibson sharply.
+
+"We didn't scare her," said Joel bluntly; "it was the fire."
+
+"Well, we must go," declared little Porter Knapp, struggling out from the
+knot of boys, who, all bigger and stronger, were pinning him against the
+window most uncomfortably.
+
+"Oh, he mustn't," Mrs. Sterling said, in alarm.
+
+"His father wouldn't like it at all; he was to stay here until he was sent
+for."
+
+"It's a fire!" exclaimed Porter, kicking dreadfully, and his face getting
+red, "and I _shall_ go!"
+
+The other boys, just on the edge of saying the same thing, now stood quite
+still. Every nerve was quivering to be off to the fire, which, from all
+appearances, must be a splendid one. The bells were clanging fast and
+furiously, hoarse cries were heard, as if raised from hundreds of throats,
+and now, to add to the general melee, an engine dashed around the corner.
+They could hear the mad plunge of the horses, the shouts of the people; and
+then off in the distance, yet approaching nearer each instant, was another
+and evidently a more powerful one, the horses at a mad gallop. It was too
+much for any boy to stand.
+
+"You see we _must_ go." Curtis Park went over to the sofa, and said
+this hoarsely. "He's a baby"--pointing to Porter--"and he's got to stay
+here, but we big boys must go."
+
+Mrs. Sterling looked up, and her face grew white. "But your fathers
+wouldn't wish you to go, I am quite sure," she said.
+
+Curtis turned away his face, but his teeth were set. "I'm going," he said
+briefly.
+
+Jack Parish's head spun, and he clenched his hands. Why had he come to this
+sick woman's house! If he were only out in the free, open air, he'd go in a
+flash. His father let him run to fires, and it wouldn't be many minutes
+before he'd be in the thick of it. He'd make a break and run!
+
+But how white she looked as she laid her head on the pillow. Like it or
+not, there he was in her house, an invited guest; and she'd been so kind to
+him and sent him the first invitation he'd ever had. He opened his hard
+fists and closed them tighter than ever. Curtis Park was now at the head of
+the stairs. Having decided, he was bolting off. Little Porter Knapp was
+engaged in kicking Gibson, who was detaining him by the end of his jacket,
+and screaming wrathfully and slapping her hands. The other boys, most of
+them making up their minds to follow Curtis, were watching proceedings.
+
+Jack strode off to Curtis. "See here," he said, "we ought not to go, don't
+you know?"
+
+Curtis turned on him in a towering passion. "You let me alone, you grocer's
+boy, you! What business is it of yours?"
+
+"I may be a grocer's boy," said Jack, feeling himself wonder fully cool, as
+the other's anger raged, "but I know something of good manners, p'raps, and
+we're scaring that lady to death."
+
+Curtis Park was dreadfully proud of his manners, and he would have stopped
+there, but as it again occurred to him that this was the son of a grocer
+who was setting up to be an authority, he cried angrily:
+
+"You're a great one to teach me manners," and he dashed down the stairs and
+was out of the house.
+
+"I wish I'd stopped him," said Jack to himself. "Hello, here's the whole
+mob"--as all the boys except Joel and David, and of course Porter, now
+plunged out to do the same thing. "No, you don't." He squared up in front
+of the staircase. "Not one of you goes down there."
+
+They brought up with a gasp. At that instant a cheery voice in the hall
+below rang out:
+
+"Hello, boys; I knew you were to be here tonight. Don't you want to come
+with me to the fire?" It was Hamilton Dyce to whom the voice belonged.
+
+And in five minutes Hamilton Dyce set forth, with Mrs. Sterling's complete
+approval; a string of boys in his wake, including little Porter, who was
+parted from Gibson only on her hearing her mistress say, "Yes, indeed, he
+can go; but do look out for him."
+
+Mr. Dyce nodded over to her couch. "Come on, you little rascal"--to
+Porter--"you stick close to me or--" he didn't finish the sentence.
+
+Gibson, pale, and shaking in every limb, but seeing no reason to regret
+that she had hung on to little Porter's jacket, sank into a chair, and
+simply looked at her mistress.
+
+"Nevertheless," said Mrs. Sterling, with a long breath, and beginning to
+smile, "I am very glad those boys were here to supper."
+
+If her mistress could smile, it wasn't so very black and dreadful after
+all, and Gibson came enough out of her gloom to mutter, "But look at this
+room," and she waved her hands in despair.
+
+"Oh, that's nothing," said Mrs. Sterling cheerfully, and then she laughed
+outright as she glanced around at the effects of the tumult. "Gibson, come
+here a minute."
+
+The old serving-woman crept out of her chair, and went over to the sofa.
+
+"Do you know"--Mrs. Sterling took her arm and pulled her gently down to a
+level with the face on the pillow, and her soft eyes twinkled--"it really
+seems good to see such a muss for once in my life: you do keep me so
+immaculately fine, Gibson."
+
+"Oh, mistress!" breathed Gibson, aghast.
+
+"And to think I have had boys, actually young life here in this room." Mrs.
+Sterling raised herself suddenly to rest on one elbow.
+
+"Mistress--mistress," implored the alarmed Gibson, with restraining hands,
+"you'll hurt yourself."
+
+"No, I shan't," protested Mrs. Sterling, her eyes beaming, and going on
+resolutely, "and just to think of boys being here!"--she looked around the
+room with a sudden affection--"and liking it--for they did, Gibson, they
+surely did, until the fire started. Oh, it is perfectly beautiful!"
+
+"Well, do lie back, mistress," begged Gibson, thumping up the pillows
+invitingly, "else those dreadful creatures will finish you entirely."
+
+"Don't say so," cried Mrs. Sterling laughingly, "and I will be good," and
+she settled back comfortably into her accustomed place. "Yes, Gibson, I
+have my young folks now, the same as other people," she added proudly. "You
+needn't try to fix up the room yet; you may finish the story you were
+reading to me last night,"
+
+She had to turn her face on the pillow, for the smile would come, at the
+picture of Gibson, the immaculate, sitting down calmly in the midst of the
+awful effects of the tumult that had so vexed her soul.
+
+She had her young people, there was no manner of doubt after that. And
+though the exit from their evening's excitement was not again made to the
+clang of the fire-bell, all the subsequent visits held fun and jollity, and
+quiet enjoyment, and everything else that was delightful, mixed up
+together.
+
+And the Comfort committee had so much pleasure out of the whole thing, that
+one evening little Porter looked up from his laborious pasting, whereby a
+joke from a funny paper was going down for the sick boy's amusement.
+
+"I wish some one else would get hurt," he said abruptly, without stopping
+to think.
+
+"Oh, you beggar!" It was Curtis Park who turned on him, though every boy
+had glanced up in surprise.
+
+"We can't have such fun," said Porter, waving his sticky hands in both
+directions, "unless they do," and he twisted uncomfortably in his chair, as
+he realized the effect of his words.
+
+"Well, we must think of somebody else to help with our Comfort committee,"
+said Mrs. Sterling from her sofa. "Don't worry, Porter, we won't let
+ourselves die out for want of work. Boys--" She looked at them suddenly,
+and raised herself on her elbow, Gibson over in her watchful corner
+trotting across in great apprehension.
+
+"Mistress--mistress," she began.
+
+"There are ever so many young people who are hurt and sick and distressed
+and are taken right out of life." She was gazing at them now with eyes that
+were large and dark and shining.
+
+"But we don't know them," burst out Joel Pepper, for she seemed to expect
+somebody to answer.
+
+"No, but they need you."
+
+"Mistress--mistress," begged Gibson, hanging over her.
+
+"And if you do the work after Lawrence doesn't need it, and he is here with
+us, well and happy once more, I will see that some sick or unhappy boy gets
+it."
+
+Joel Pepper hopped out of his chair, upsetting the mucilage bottle, seeing
+which, Gibson left her mistress to reach the table in time to save a
+disaster.
+
+"Will you--will you?" he cried, running over to the sofa. "Will you give
+our things, if we make them, to some poor sick boys who are hurt, Mrs.
+Sterling?"
+
+"I surely will, Joel," promised Mrs. Sterling, taking his two brown hands
+in her thin one.
+
+"Then I'm going to make things," declared Joel, who never in his life
+before had been willing to sit still and cut out and snip and paste and
+write, and he plunged back to his seat. "Oh!" he cried, in dismay, and his
+face grew terribly red, "did I upset that?"--pointing to the mucilage
+bottle.
+
+"You surely did," said Gibson tartly, and taking up the last of the sticky
+mess with a wet towel, "and I suppose you'll do it again, or some of the
+rest of you boys will. It don't make much difference which," and she moved
+off slowly.
+
+"Gibson--Gibson," said Mrs. Sterling gently.
+
+"Oh, Gibson!" Joel flew after her and twitched her apron string.
+
+"What is it?" She turned on him with asperity. "I never will upset the
+mucilage bottle again, I won't, Gibson, really."
+
+"See that you don't," replied Gibson, moving off with small faith in such
+promises.
+
+And another promise had that very evening been made, just before the boys
+had gathered in Mrs. Sterling's handsome sitting-room.
+
+Curtis Park had been through several spasms of distress over his attack on
+Jack, when, whirling around from the friendly attitude he had chosen to
+assume, he had made a tirade on the grocer's son. Look at it whichever way
+he might, it didn't seem pleasant to view. And all the delight in the fire
+and the companionship of Mr. Dyce, of whom all the boys were exceedingly
+fond, was suddenly blotted out. He went home that night, and crept into
+bed, a most disconsolate boy.
+
+"I was a beastly cad," he fumed, kicking the covering down to the foot, and
+rolling out with the vain attempt to find some diversion. But that being
+impossible, he tumbled in again, with his unhappy thoughts.
+
+And all through the following days, go whichever way he might, there was
+the fact to stare him in the face, that he, Curtis Park, who had hitherto
+prided himself upon his fine manners, had dropped from his height, to
+blackguard a boy, who, despite the fact of having been born the son of a
+little grocer on Common Street, had yet shown himself capable of the
+height.
+
+"It's no use to deny it. I've been a bully and a cad," he groaned, and
+wiped the perspiration from his face. "What can I do!"
+
+There was only one way, and he knew it, just as well at first as after all
+the fencing with himself that ensued the next few days. And at last on this
+very evening, he stopped fighting the idea, and marched up to what it
+suggested, like a man.
+
+"See here, will you, though I shouldn't think you'd want to speak to me."
+It was a boy who said this to Jack standing on the step of the grocer's
+front door, next to the shop.
+
+"Hey?" said Jack, in a great bewilderment. Was that really Curtis Park,
+whose rap on the door had announced him?
+
+"Oh, it's no use to deny, Jack," said Curtis, speaking rapidly and
+desperately, "that I've been a cad--a mean, low cad--to talk to you in that
+way. It's done, and can't be helped now, only I want you to know what I
+think of it."
+
+Jack swallowed hard. He was going to put out his hand, but luckily thought
+in time, This is Curtis Park.
+
+"I don't wonder you won't shake hands with me," said Curtis, who saw the
+movement. "I'm no end sorry; and perhaps sometime, Jack, why, you will."
+
+Jack's brown hand shot out so swiftly it nearly knocked the other boy from
+the doorstep.
+
+"It's all right," he said heartily.
+
+"And you will never have another chance to call me a cad, I promise you,"
+declared Curtis, wringing it. "Come on now, Jack"--hooking him by the
+arm--"it's time to go to Mrs. Sterling's; this is the evening, you know."
+
+And the boys who had begun to think they had made a mistake in supposing
+that Curtis Park had taken a fancy to Jack Parish, were pushed back into
+their first conviction by seeing them come into the meeting of the Comfort
+committee arm in arm.
+
+
+
+
+XXVII
+
+A PIECE OF GOOD NEWS
+
+
+Polly Pepper ran down the steps of Miss Taylor's house, and set off at a
+lively pace on the pavement. Presently she came to an abrupt stop. "Oh, how
+could I forget, Mamsie wouldn't like me to run in the street," she thought
+remorsefully. And this took away some of the glad little thrills running
+over her.
+
+When she got to Mrs. Cummings' very select boarding-house on the avenue,
+there was Miss Rhys at the window of her room, looking up from her
+embroidery. When she saw Polly Pepper, she smiled.
+
+"Oh, it's you, Polly; I'm glad to see you."
+
+"Is Alexia there?" called Polly, looking up, and feeling her lovely bit of
+news dancing within her again, so that she could hardly control her
+impatience. "Do tell her to come out, please, Miss Rhys."
+
+"She isn't here. She went down-town."
+
+Miss Rhys laid her precious work in her lap, and put her face close to the
+window screen. "Her candy wasn't a success, and she's gone down for more
+confectioner's sugar."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, quite gone in distress over the failure of
+the candy, and feeling very helpless in the fact that there was no one to
+tell her news to, for of course Alexia must be the first one to hear it.
+"Which way did she go, Miss Rhys?"--lifting a troubled face to the window
+above.
+
+"I don't know," said Miss Rhys absently, her mind on her embroidery, and
+very much wishing she could return to it. "She was going to your house, I
+know, for one thing, on her way down."
+
+"Oh, she couldn't have gone there," cried Polly, "for I should have met her
+on the way."
+
+"So you would," assented Alexia's aunt, wondering whether the bunch of
+grapes should be filled in solid, or worked with the mixed stitch that she
+had seen in a shop. "Well, then, I think on her way back she was going to
+see you, Polly."
+
+"Then, I am going to run down and meet her," declared Polly, with a long
+breath. "Was it Pennsey's where she was going for the sugar, Miss
+Rhys?"--pausing a moment.
+
+"Yes," said Miss Rhys, turning back with a sigh of relief to her embroidery
+again, while Polly hurried off, wishing that she was a boy, when it would
+be quite proper for her to run through the streets.
+
+"Oh, if it were only Badgertown!" she sighed to herself, thinking of the
+many happy runs she had enjoyed down the lane to Grandma Bascom's cottage,
+or over across the fields to the parsonage. "Dear me!"--when a voice,
+"Polly Pepper, Pol--ly Pepper!" called after her. She looked back, and
+there, with the window screen up, and her face thrust well forward, was
+Alexia's aunt, loudly summoning her.
+
+When she saw that Polly heard, and had turned back, she beckoned smartly
+with her long fingers, on which shone, as Alexia had once said, "all the
+rings the Rhys family had ever owned," drew in her head, and waited till
+Polly came up under the window again.
+
+"Oh, Polly, it's just this--how fortunate you hadn't gotten far. I want you
+to tell Alexia to get me some more green floss at Miss Angell's."
+
+"Yes, Miss Rhys," said Polly, with a dismayed remembrance just how far it
+was to the little shop where the very latest patterns and materials for
+fancy work could be obtained, and the first supper of the Cooking Club to
+be given to-night!
+
+"And stay, Miss Angell may send me up some more patterns to choose from;
+that is, if she has had any new ones since I was there last week, and I
+presume that she has."
+
+Polly could only utter, "Yes, Miss Rhys," so very faintly it could scarcely
+be heard. Dear me! and it was three o'clock already, and all that candy to
+be made over again!
+
+She crept off on very dismal feet, till she reflected it wouldn't help
+matters any to lose heart, and so she set forward at a brisk pace again.
+Miss Rhys pushed down the window screen and set to work with a complacent
+smile at the prospect of having her errand performed so nicely.
+
+"That's the good of having young people around," she said; "it's so
+convenient at times to get one's errands done."
+
+Polly went the whole length of North Street to the great establishment of
+Pennsey's, where the avenue people traded. But search as she might, up one
+aisle and down another, there was no trace of Alexia; and inquiring of a
+clerk at the sugar department, if she had been there, he whipped his pencil
+out from behind his ear, and picked up his order pad before he stopped to
+think.
+
+"She's just gone," he said. "Yes, madam"--all attention to the next
+customer.
+
+Polly hurried on rapid feet. It was half-past three by the big central
+clock as she went down the main aisle--well, she must hurry home, for
+Alexia was probably on her way there, as Miss Rhys had said, when, "Dear
+me, Polly Pepper, wait!" struck her ear.
+
+She turned, and there before an opposite counter was Alexia, picking up her
+package of sugar and preparing to race after her.
+
+"I'm getting some more nuts," she said; "my candy was perfectly horrid, and
+everything was spoiled."
+
+"Yes, I know," said Polly, coming up close to comfort as much as possible,
+for Alexia had a very long face on, and looked as if it would take a good
+deal to cheer her up. "How can I tell her about that dreadful green floss
+and those patterns?" said Polly over and over to herself. "I must wait till
+we get out on the street."
+
+But when the two girls were outside the shop, Polly carrying the bundle of
+nuts tucked under her arm, it was just as bad, and she put it off until the
+corner was reached down which they must turn to go to Miss Angell's. And
+worst of all, they were hurrying on so fast the lovely bit of news must be
+postponed,
+
+"How glad I am, Aunt didn't take it into her head to send me spinning off
+down there!" observed Alexia, glancing down the long thoroughfare with
+anything but a pleasant expression on her long face. "I just hate that Miss
+Angell's shop. Goodness me! we never could do it, with all this candy to
+make, and get our Club supper to-night."
+
+Polly stopped short, and seized Alexia's arm. "Oh, don't feel badly!" she
+gasped, and then, thinking, "It's better to have the whole out at once,"
+she finished in one breath, "Your aunt wants some green floss, Alexia."
+
+"Well, she shan't have it," declared Alexia, stopping short, too, and
+glaring at Polly over her bundle of sugar. "No, indeed!" and her pale eyes
+grew very angry. "The very idea! she's always wanting green floss, every
+single minute. Come on, Polly Pepper." She set her face straight ahead and
+marched on. But not hearing Polly following, she looked over her shoulder,
+and then ran back. "Why don't you come on? I shan't get that old green
+floss"--all in one breath.
+
+"We can get there in a few minutes perhaps," said Polly, "Alexia, do let us
+hurry," and, turning down the corner, without so much as a glance backward,
+she went swiftly on, without trusting herself to look down the long street.
+
+"I shan't get that old green floss," declared Alexia wrathfully, standing
+quite still on the corner, yet, as Polly kept steadily on, showing no
+intention of stopping, she pattered after. But she kept saying, every step
+of the way, "I shan't get that old green floss, Polly, _wait!_"
+
+But it was not until the door of Miss Angell's shop was reached that the
+two girls came together.
+
+"It's a hateful mean shame," exploded Alexia, huddling up her bundle of
+sugar passionately. "There, I've punched a hole with my thumb; see what
+you've made me do."
+
+Polly turned around in dismay, to see a little trail of fine sugar drifting
+from the package down over Alexia's gown.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" she exclaimed, in dismay. "I'll help you; stand still,
+Alexia, do; it's all running out."
+
+"Well, you made me," cried Alexia, whirling around and wildly patting the
+bag in just the wrong places, so that the stream of sugar became now quite
+big.
+
+"Do stand still, Alexia," implored Polly; "here, I'll pinch it up," She set
+down her bundle of nuts on the top step, which a lady, not seeing, came out
+of the shop, and promptly fell over.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Polly, in terror, and running down the steps. "Did
+you hurt you? Oh, I'm so sorry!"--clasping her hands and looking the
+picture of distress. Then she saw it was Mrs. Patterson, a friend of Auntie
+Whitney's.
+
+"No," said the lady tartly, getting up to her feet to draw a long breath
+and gaze up and down the street. "Why, Polly Pepper!"--bringing her gaze
+upon the flushed face.
+
+"Are you sure you are not hurt, Mrs. Patterson?" Polly looked at her
+anxiously. Oh, dear me! how could she be so careless!
+
+"Not a bit of it," declared that lady, "but, oh, Polly, do you suppose any
+one saw me?" and she gazed ruefully up and down the street again.
+
+"I don't believe any one did," said Polly, peering this way and that.
+
+"Polly, do come; this sugar is all running away," cried Alexia loudly.
+
+"And do let me brush your gown," implored Polly, feeling as if everything
+were going wrong this afternoon.
+
+"Never mind, I'm going directly home, here is the carriage," said Mrs.
+Patterson, as her handsome equipage drew up. "Don't you worry a bit, Polly
+Pepper; I'm not in the least hurt," and off she drove.
+
+"Polly, will you come?" called Alexia, dancing about impatiently on the top
+step, and clutching the bag of sugar with nervous ringers that didn't help
+matters any. "Oh, dear me, do look!"--pointing tragically to the little
+pile of sweetness at her feet.
+
+"Oh, I do hope she wasn't hurt," cried Polly, stumbling up over the steps,
+how, she didn't know.
+
+"Oh, that tiresome Mrs. Patterson! Well, it will do her good to tumble down
+once in a while," said Alexia unsympathetically, "she's so stiff and
+mighty; and I should think you might pay some attention to me," she cried,
+in a loud, injured tone; "I'm all in a mess with this sugar, and I haven't
+got any candy, and you made me come clear down to this old shop, and----"
+
+"Well, do come in," cried Polly, interrupting her stream of complaint, and,
+picking up the bag of nuts before any one else could tumble over it, she
+hurried Alexia into the little shop.
+
+"And I'm glad enough to get where I can lay this old thing down," declared
+Alexia, dumping the bag of sugar upon the first resting-place she saw, an
+aesthetic little lounge, covered with elaborately embroidered pieces. "Oh,
+me! my arms are almost broken," and she stretched them restfully, "and
+beside, the sugar is 'most all run out."
+
+"Oh, Alexia!" cried Polly, quite aghast, as she saw where Alexia had
+deposited the sugar, just as the proprietor of the shop hurried up with
+dismay written all over her countenance.
+
+"Oh, my beautiful centerpieces!" she exclaimed, raising both hands in
+dismay, "I am sure they are quite, quite ruined."
+
+"It's nothing but sugar," grumbled Alexia, as she huddled up her bundle
+again.
+
+"And I'll brush it all off," said Polly anxiously, bestowing little pats
+over the various specimens of fancy work. "See, Miss Angell, I don't
+believe it's hurt," she said, lifting her flushed face.
+
+"Well, I don't wish them," declared two ladies together, coming back from
+the small table Where they had gone to examine more work.
+
+"They are quite mussed and tumbled now," added one, "and not at all what we
+want. Come, Sister," and she walked to the door, viewing with disfavor
+Alexia and her bundle, and Polly Pepper as well.
+
+Miss Angell's face dropped to such a length that Polly couldn't bear to
+look at it.
+
+"Oh, please don't go," cried Polly, flying after the irate customer; "I
+don't really believe the pretty things are hurt. Do just come back and see,
+please."
+
+The other lady was standing irresolutely by the lounge, but she wouldn't
+even look at the centerpieces that Miss Angell was smoothing out with a
+despairing hand, preparing to put them into their boxes again.
+
+"It was clean sugar," Polly ran on, feeling quite sure if she stopped
+talking, that all hope was lost.
+
+"But they are mussed," began the lady by the door, very decidedly.
+
+Alexia was huddling up her bundle quite gone in despair, and lost to all
+the distress of having no candy to take to the Cooking Club supper. If
+those two ladies would only buy the centerpieces they had selected, it was
+all she hoped for in this world.
+
+"No, indeed! Come, Sister!" and she opened the door. "Why, Mrs. Alexander!"
+
+Mrs. Alexander, a portly person, with a great deal of black jet and lace,
+that seemed to be always catching in the apparel of those who passed her,
+worked her way into the small shop, and up past the knot of people, giving
+friendly nods of recognition on her way.
+
+"How d'ye do, Miss Ellicott, Miss Juliana. How are you, Polly? And, Alexia,
+how is your aunt?" And without waiting for a reply, she sprang, if such a
+ponderous body could be said to spring, at the box of centerpieces Miss
+Angell was packing away. "Oh, oh! how beautiful! Stop"--laying her large
+hand on one. "Just what I want. How much is it?"
+
+"Fifteen dollars," said Miss Angell, whipping it neatly out of the box, her
+dismal frown becoming an expansive smile. "Yes, it is a beauty--one of the
+very latest things," and she spread it forth on the lounge with an
+experienced little nourish.
+
+Miss Ellicott deserted the door and hurried over to the lounge.
+"I'll--I'll"--as she tried to work herself in between. But the portly Mrs.
+Alexander had no idea of being interrupted at such an important crisis in
+life when centerpieces were to be decided upon, so she loudly kept on in
+her bargaining. "I'll take it," she said, in her most decided fashion. "And
+the next one, too, I fancy; let me see that."
+
+"But that is," gasped Miss Juliana, "threading her way into the group," the
+very one that I liked."
+
+"Eh?" said Mrs. Alexander, looking up with the acute eyes of a
+bargain-hunter. "Oh, I don't wonder you like it; it's a beauty. Yes, I'll
+take it also. How much did you say it was, Miss Angell?"
+
+Miss Angell, who hadn't said, saw no reason why she shouldn't now make it
+any price that appealed to her better judgment.
+
+"Twenty dollars," she answered, clapping on a cool third of its price, and
+Mrs. Alexander, who cared very little what she paid for it, beamed at her,
+and said:
+
+"Put them in a box and send it out to my carriage; they are the handsomest
+things I've seen for a long time, and so wonderfully cheap! You are quite
+right; they are beauties."
+
+"If you'd done as I wanted you to," cried Miss Juliana, the tears of
+vexation gathering in her eyes, as she saw the now incomparable bits of
+fancy work borne off before their very faces, "you wouldn't have stopped
+for such a trifle as a few crumbs of sugar, Sister."
+
+Miss Ellicott's face was very red, but she knew better than to show the
+chagrin she felt, to add to the delight of the purchaser over her bargain,
+so she contented herself with saying, as she stalked to the door:
+
+"You said you didn't want them, Juliana, the same as I did."
+
+"But I wasn't so set about it," said Miss Juliana, with a regretful glance
+at the box, now gayly tied up by the jubilant Miss Angell and delivered
+into the hands of the little errand-girl to be given to the Alexander
+footman, "and I'm sure if you hadn't insisted, I should have seen that they
+weren't hurt."
+
+"Well, do come on now, Juliana," said her sister sharply, in all the
+anguish of having the whole blame deposited upon her person. "Since the
+things are gone, what is the use of talking about the matter?"--as they
+disappeared out of the shop.
+
+Polly and Alexia, therefore, had to wait for all this confusion and
+excitement to clear away, before the green floss could be bought and the
+message from Miss Rhys as to the patterns could be given. Meanwhile, Polly
+was tying up the package of sugar, and patting the shrunken paper bag into
+shape over the hole.
+
+"You tell your aunt," said Miss Angell, her cheeks quite flushed with
+elation over her good bargain, "that I haven't any more patterns come in
+since she was here. Yes, Mrs. Alexander"--to that lady, with her head over
+a drawer, deep in a hunt for more bargains-"there are some exquisite
+designs among those. There's the floss"--bunching it up hurriedly into a
+wad, and speaking all in one breath. "Would you mind, Miss Alexia, doing
+this up yourself?"--pointing to the white tissue paper on the table.
+
+Alexia, who didn't mind anything so long as she could get out of the shop,
+twisted up the floss into a wad of the paper.
+
+"Do hurry, Polly," she cried, and scampered out to the street, Polly
+following with her bag of nuts.
+
+"Oh, dear! I've forgotten that tiresome old bundle of sugar after all," she
+cried, prancing back.
+
+"I'll carry it, and you take the nuts," said Polly, cramming her bundle
+into the long arms and getting anxious fingers on the bag of sugar, as
+Alexia came running up with it.
+
+"I'm sure I wish you would." said Alexia, seizing the nuts delightedly. "I
+just hate that old--Polly Pepper, it's four o'clock!"--as the church bell
+on St. Stephen's tower pealed out.
+
+So Polly didn't have a chance, after all, to tell her glad piece of news,
+until they were at the Club supper, which was to be given at Larry Keep's
+to celebrate his getting well.
+
+"Oh, Alexia," she was guilty of whispering, "it's the most splendid thing."
+
+"Isn't it!" cried Alexia, in the greatest satisfaction. "To think I got it
+done after all our fright! And it's the best candy I ever made"--glancing
+over the room, where the dish was being passed about eagerly.
+
+"Yes, I know," said Polly carelessly, "but this is much better than candy,
+Alexia, that I mean."
+
+"Much better than candy!" echoed Alexia, laying clown the slice of sponge
+cake that Clem had made, on her plate, and peering around into Polly's
+face. "What do you mean, Polly Pepper? There can't anything possibly be
+better than candy."
+
+"Yes, there can," contradicted Polly, twisting in delight on her chair,
+"and you'll say so when you hear it. It's the most beautiful thing that
+could possibly have happened, Alexia Rhys. It's"--and just then the door
+opened and in walked Miss Mary Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce, and the first
+glance that Alexia took of their faces, she guessed the whole thing.
+
+"Polly!" she gasped, seizing Polly's arm, "you don't mean that our Miss
+Mary is going to marry Mr. Dyce?"
+
+"Yes, I do," said Polly happily, "mean just that very thing, Alexia."
+
+"I don't believe it," declared Alexia, while all the time she knew it was
+true by their radiant faces.
+
+"Well, it is true, as true can be," said Polly, "for she told me" so this
+very afternoon at her house."
+
+"And you've known it all this time," cried Alexia, for the first time In
+her life in a passion at Polly, "and never told me at all!"
+
+"Oh, Alexia, how could I?" cried Polly, in an aggrieved little voice; "for
+we were in such a perfectly dreadful scrape over getting ready for the
+supper! How could I, Alexia?" She turned such a miserable face that Alexia
+made haste to say:
+
+"You couldn't, you sweet thing, you!" and gave her a reassuring hug.
+
+"Well, just look at Mr. Dyce, and hear him laugh!"
+
+And Mr. Hamilton Dyce being unable to keep his delight within bounds, and
+seeming to think it incumbent upon himself to take the young people into
+his confidence, just coolly announced it. And then there was no more paying
+attention to the cakes, and the little biscuits, the custards, and the
+whipped cream; and even Alexia's nut candy went begging.
+
+And Miss Mary had to sit in the center of each group of boys and girls, a
+few minutes at a time, for the supper was passed around on trays, till Mr.
+Dyce said he wished he hadn't told the news until the feast was ended. And
+after that, when they all finished up the evening festivities with a dance,
+why, every one there, tried to get her for first partner. But it was Alexia
+who swept them all one side.
+
+"She's my Sunday-school teacher," she declared, "and I shall have her
+first."
+
+"Well, so she is our Sunday-school teacher," cried half a dozen of the
+girls at once, as they crowded up.
+
+"Well, she's my very dearest friend--that is, except Polly Pepper," said
+Alexia positively. "Come, Miss Mary"--hanging obstinately to her hand, on
+which shone a new ring with a big, bright gem in it.
+
+"Well, you said Miss Salisbury was," Pickering Dodge, on the fringe of the
+circle of girls, couldn't help saying.
+
+"Oh, well, I mean Miss Mary is my very dearest friend after that," said
+Alexia coolly, tossing him a saucy glance, as she bore off her beloved
+Sunday-school teacher down the whole length of Mrs. Keep's drawing-room
+floor.
+
+
+
+
+XXVIII
+
+THE LITTLE STONE CUPBOARD
+
+
+Phronsie ran down the hall.
+
+"Oh, Mamsie!" she cried, hurrying into
+
+Mrs. Fisher's room, "Grandpapa says she is coming--she really is!" She
+clasped her hands and stood quite still in front of her mother.
+
+"Who, dear?" asked Mrs. Fisher absently. She was standing over by the
+window, with one of Phronsie's pinafores in her hand and wondering if any
+more were needed to carry her through the summer.
+
+"She really is, Mamsie," said Phronsie, very much disappointed that her
+mother didn't seem to notice. Then her mouth drooped, and she gave a long
+sigh.
+
+Mrs. Fisher tore her mind off from the pinafores and looked down quickly.
+
+"Well, I declare, child;" and she took her in her arms. "Now, then!" She
+put the pinafore in a chair, and herself in another; then she drew Phronsie
+into her lap. "Tell Mother all about it," she said.
+
+"Yes," said Phronsie, "I will"--snuggling in great satisfaction up against
+her mother's neck: "you see, my little girl is really coming; Grandpapa
+said so."
+
+"Oh, yes--Rachel."
+
+"Yes." Phronsie bobbed her yellow head; then took it up from its
+resting-place in her mother's neck, to peer up into the face above. "And
+she'll be my little girl all the time she is here, and I must get Clorinda
+fixed this very minute," she added, dreadfully excited. And, her news all
+told, Phronsie clambered down from Mrs. Fisher's lap and scurried off.
+
+And in a few minutes everybody knew all over the house that the letter had
+come, in which the invitation for Rachel's visit had been accepted by Miss
+Parrott. Moreover, she was to arrive on the following day.
+
+"Whoopity-la!" sang Joel, who very much liked Rachel, for she was always
+ready to play anything that he proposed, and was a perfect adept in
+climbing trees and inventing a circus out of small material; "now that's
+just prime! I wish she was coming to-day."
+
+Van and Percy, just as well pleased, ran hither and yon, very much excited.
+
+"What shall we do to show her we are glad she's coming?" asked Percy, who
+seized every chance that offered itself to celebrate such events.
+
+"Why, she'll see it," said Joel, pounding away lustily. He was mending his
+tennis racket. "Whickets! I 'most split that"--holding it up ruefully.
+
+"Mrs. Fisher told you not to say that," cried Van, who dearly loved to
+bring Joel up for correction.
+
+"Well, I didn't mean--" Joel whirled around on him, "And I guess you'd say
+it if you'd 'most split your racket, so!"
+
+"She told you not to," repeated Van, knowing his power in holding to that
+simple statement.
+
+"Well, I didn't mean to, I tell you," cried Joel loudly, and very red in
+the face.
+
+"And she won't like it," said Van, delighted to see the effect of his
+words.
+
+Joel's face worked, and he flung the broken racket across the room. It fell
+with a crash; and he ran over to the bed, hopped into the middle of it, and
+buried his face in his brown hands, his shoulders in distress.
+
+"I didn't mean--go away," he screamed, kicking as hard as he could.
+
+Van, terribly frightened at the storm he had raised, stood perfectly still
+in the middle of the room.
+
+"There, now, I hope you're satisfied," said Percy, from the other side.
+"See what you've done. I guess you'll catch it, Van Whitney," he added
+pleasantly.
+
+Van, not so much worried over what he would catch as terrified about Joel,
+ran over to his brother.
+
+"Oh, do stop him," he implored, seizing Percy's hand.
+
+"I can't stop him," said Percy; "you know yourself it's silly to ask me
+that."
+
+"I must, then," cried Van, scurrying over to the foot of the bed. "Joel, do
+stop," he begged frantically.
+
+"Go away!" screamed Joel, kicking lustily. "I didn't mean to say it. Oh,
+dear me! Mamsie--Mamsie!" he blubbered, rolling from side to side on the
+neat, white bed.
+
+"I guess he's going to have a fit," said Percy cheerfully, coming up to
+view matters at a safe distance from the flying feet.
+
+At this, Van's distress knew no bounds, and, regardless of all possible
+danger to himself, he ran around the bed and flung himself upon it, to
+burrow close to Joel's stubby black head.
+
+"Joe, don't," he cried, bursting into tears and hugging him with both
+frantic arms.
+
+Joel wriggled and screamed, "Go away!" and kicked more than ever, but Van
+held on sturdily, and together the two boys rolled over and over across the
+bed, back and forth, till their breath gave out.
+
+"Oh, just look what you are doing," exclaimed Percy, prancing up and down
+the room. He had started two or three times to run out and call Mrs.
+Fisher; then thought better of it. "You've mussed the bedspread all up; and
+only look at those shams!"--hanging over the footboard in extreme dismay.
+
+Hearing these last words, both boys rolled apart and thrust up their heads,
+to gaze at the details in question. There they were, spick and span as
+usual at the top, but the lower parts were all mussed and wrinkled, while
+the lace at one end hung down in a small tag.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" cried Joel, huddling up to Van, to throw his arm around his
+neck, "just see what I've done!"
+
+"Oh, you didn't do it; I did," said Van, giving Joel an affectionate
+squeeze. "It was all my fault."
+
+"No such thing," declared Joel sturdily; "if you say so again, I'll fight
+you."
+
+"And perhaps you can straighten that lace," suggested Percy, with no relish
+for any further hostilities.
+
+Van and Joel drew off to the foot of the bed, and huddled up there to
+regard his efforts, as he ran around to the pillows, patting and smoothing
+them straight.
+
+"That won't do any good," said Joel, in great disfavor; "you can't make the
+lace whole again."
+
+Van sorrowfully embraced his knees, his feet tucked up under him.
+
+"Oh, what will Jane say?" he breathed fearfully.
+
+"Jane? I don't care for her," said Joel scornfully. "It's Mamsie," and he
+swallowed hard.
+
+"Perhaps she won't care," cried Van, leaving his knees to take care of
+themselves, in alarm lest Joel was going off again.
+
+"And just see how you've mussed up the bedspread," Percy couldn't help
+saying, to relieve his chagrin over the failure to make the pillow shams
+look nicely, and he drew off and pointed to it tragically. "It looks as if
+crocodiles had been all over it," he declared, hunting for the worst thing
+he could think of.
+
+Joel and Van rolled fearful eyes all over the bed.
+
+"I'm going to Mamsie!" was all Joel said, as he rolled over the edge and
+disappeared from the room.
+
+"Oh, wait," screamed Van. Then he rolled off his side of the bed, took two
+big steps, and stood quite still in the middle of the floor.
+
+"You've got to go with him and help tell," said Percy pleasantly, as if
+proposing the most delightful thing. But Van didn't stir.
+
+"Aren't you ashamed!" cried Percy, with a sniff. "I'd like to know if Polly
+will think it's nice for you to sneak out of it, Van Whitney."
+
+"Ow!" squealed Van. He shot out into the hall, and without giving himself
+time to think, ran as hard as he could to join Joel in Mother Fisher's
+room.
+
+Left to himself, Percy set himself to work on straightening the bedspread,
+running around from one side to the other to pat and twitch impatiently.
+
+"As soon as I get one side nice, it all comes away from the other," he said
+to himself. "How in the world does Jane ever make a bed, I wonder?" And at
+last he deserted it altogether and drew off with a very hot face.
+"Heigh-ho! I wish we could do something to celebrate when Rachel comes,"
+and he wrinkled his brows in perplexity. "Oh, I know," and he clapped his
+hands in glee. Then he ran softly out and up to Ben's room.
+
+But Ben wasn't in; so Percy, nearly bursting with a plan that now seemed to
+him very grand, was obliged to take some one else into his confidence. And
+that one happened to be old Mr. King, whom he met as he came downstairs
+with a very rueful countenance.
+
+"What's the matter, Percy?" asked the old gentleman, with a keen glance.
+
+"Nothing, Grandpapa," said Percy dismally.
+
+"Goodness me! Do you carry about such a face as that for nothing?" cried
+the old gentleman, with a laugh. "You look as if you'd something on your
+mind, my boy."
+
+"Well, I have, Grandpapa," said Percy, now driven into a corner, and
+looking up at last.
+
+"Best have it out then," said Grandpapa firmly, taking one of Percy's
+hands, and they went on to the writing-room.
+
+"There, now, here is just the place for a boy to get things that are
+unpleasant off his mind, I take it," he said, closing the door on them
+both. "Sit down and tell me what is troubling you, Percy."
+
+"Can't I stand up, Grandpapa?" asked Percy, over by the table.
+
+"To be sure," laughed Grandpapa; "stand up or sit down, just as you choose.
+Only let us get at this bugaboo that is worrying you, my boy. Out with it."
+
+"It isn't a bugaboo," said Percy, with open eyes; "it's a plan, Grandpapa.
+Only I can't find Ben," and he began to be dismal once more. "Dear me!
+where can he be!"
+
+"Oh, it's a plan, is it?" said Grandpapa, vastly relieved. "Well, well!"
+Then he began to laugh. "And so you wanted Ben to help you with it, eh?"
+
+"Yes, Grandpapa," said Percy, his happiness returning, and he deserted the
+table and ran up to the old gentleman's side. "You see, Rachel is coming."
+
+"Yes, she is," said old Mr. King, with a satisfied nod, "and you like it, I
+hope, my boy." He looked up with a keen glance.
+
+"Awfully," said Percy, great satisfaction settling over his face.
+
+"Well, I think all of us like the plan," remarked the old gentleman, in
+extreme complacency at achieving the visit, "for she's a very nice girl,
+Rachel is, it appears to me."
+
+"She's awfully good fun," said Percy, "only Joel will make her play with
+him all the time, I suppose," and his face fell.
+
+"Oh, you must cut Joe out," said old Mr. King, laughing heartily.
+
+"I can't," said Percy dismally; "we can't any of us, Grandpapa," and he
+opened his blue eyes very wide at the mere thought.
+
+"Well, yes, I think we are all pleased, very much pleased indeed that
+Rachel is coming," repeated old Mr. King, going back to the expected visit,
+"and, as she comes to-morrow----"
+
+"To-morrow!" echoed Percy, aghast, "why, then I can't get up my surprise,
+Grandpapa." For, strange to say, the time of the arrival had slipped from
+his mind. The old gentleman hastened to comfort him.
+
+"Suppose you tell me the grand plan," he said at last; "then we'll see if
+there won't be time enough."
+
+"Oh, I was going to get Ben to take me out into the woods to-morrow,"
+said Percy, feeling as if he should very much like to cry, he was so
+disappointed, "and we could have dug up some cunning little plants and
+ferns: Rachel said she liked them at the garden party. We could have
+planted them in a box, and 'twould have been so nice, and now it's too
+late." And, overcome with despair, he sat down on the first thing he
+could find, which was a pile of books on the floor.
+
+"Take care," warned Grandpapa, but over Percy had gone, the books flying
+all ways under him.
+
+"I'll pick them up," he cried, when he could get his breath.
+
+"I am glad you are not hurt," said Grandpapa King, with a rueful glance at
+the big reference volumes, only laid out for his use that morning, which
+certainly wouldn't be improved by their fall. "Here, wait a bit, and I'll
+help you, Percy, my boy," and he got out of his chair.
+
+"Oh, I can do it; let me, Grandpapa; let me do it alone," begged Percy,
+tugging at the books and piling as rapidly as he could, for they were quite
+heavy. "There, see, they're almost back again"--as he staggered up with the
+last one.
+
+"Not quite so fast," said Grandpapa King, lending his hand to the task.
+"Now next time when you want to sit down, I advise you to take a chair,
+Percy, my boy. Well, now, let us think how you can get up a nice little
+surprise for Rachel when she comes to-morrow."
+
+"And nobody must know it," cried Percy, quite enchanted at the prospect of
+having a secret plan with Grandpapa. "Oh, you won't tell anybody but me,
+will you?" He crowded in between the old gentleman's chair and the big
+table, and regarded him anxiously.
+
+"No, indeed," cried old Mr. King, in his most emphatic way, and bringing
+his hand heavily down on the table; "not a single person shall hear about
+it. This is your and my secret, Percy, my boy."
+
+And outside, in a slope of the terrace where it ran down to a tangle of
+greenery, were Phronsie and little Dick. And they were making great
+preparations, too, for Rachel's visit on the following day. The great task
+before them was nothing more nor less than to set up their little stone
+house in the boulders under the big apple tree.
+
+"I'm going to set up the cupboard," announced little Dick.
+
+"Wait for me, do," begged Phronsie, who was busy in putting the little
+acorn cups and saucers in fine array on the big, flat stone that served
+them as a table.
+
+"Well, do hurry, then," said Dick, his fingers twitching to be at their
+work, "for it's just full of everything." He had pulled out the stone from
+a hole between the boulders, which, running in quite deeply, had served as
+a convenient receptacle for certain treasures and accumulations, and was
+therefore called the cupboard. "We haven't cleaned it out in ever 'n' ever
+so long, Phronsie."
+
+"Yes, I will hurry," said Phronsie, gently putting the little acorn she
+held back into its cup. She had a soft little bit of cloth in her hand,
+with which she first wiped each piece.
+
+"I'm almost through; I haven't but one, two, 'leven more to do."
+
+"Oh, I'll help you," cried Dick, "wash up the dishes," and he turned his
+back on the cupboard. "Where's another towel?"
+
+"You mustn't break them," said Phronsie gravely, handing him another small
+portion of cloth, "because you see they're _very_ nice dishes"--and
+she went back to her own polishing.
+
+"I won't break them," promised little Dick, beginning on an acorn saucer.
+
+"Chil--dren"--it was Polly's voice--"oh, where are you?" They could hear
+her as she sped over the terrace.
+
+Down went the little dish-towels, and over went all the cups and saucers,
+for Dickie's foot knocked off what Phronsie spared, as both the small
+housekeepers rushed tumultuously out.
+
+"Oh, here we are, Polly," they cried.
+
+"Well, you must come at once if you want to go down to Candace's," she
+announced, standing on the terrace-top, her cheeks quite rosy for her run
+after them. "Auntie is going to take Jasper and me down to get some things
+for Rachel. Do you want to go too?"
+
+Didn't they! Polly laughed to see them clamber along the green bank, and
+she put out her hands and drew them up.
+
+"I shall buy Rachel something," announced Phronsie, smoothing down her pink
+frock with great decision, as they reached the top.
+
+"And so shall I," cried little Dick, bobbing his head; "I shall get her the
+very nicest thing that Candace has."
+
+"Well, now, children, we must hurry," said Polly, as they all ran along,
+"because you know we ought not to keep Auntie waiting. Now, then, one, two,
+three, and away!"
+
+She seized a small hand in each of her own, and away they sped. None too
+soon, for Jasper was just skipping down to meet them with the announcement
+that sister Marion was getting into the carriage; and there on the steps
+was Mrs. Fisher, with Phronsie's hat in her hand.
+
+"Get in, young man," said Jasper, cramming Dick's cap on his head, and he
+bundled him in unceremoniously, then hopped after himself.
+
+"I'm going to buy my little girl something," announced Phronsie, looking
+back where Mamsie still stood upon the step.
+
+"Yes, yes," she said smilingly, as Thomas started up the horses.
+
+"Wait, wait," cried Phronsie, in a tone of great distress, and she leaned
+out toward Mamsie.
+
+"What is it, child?" said Mrs. Fisher.
+
+And, "Wait a bit, Thomas," called Jasper.
+
+"What's the matter, Phronsie?" asked Polly, leaning over from the opposite
+seat, where she was ensconced with Mrs. Whitney.
+
+"I want my little purse," said Phronsie, looking down at her empty hands,
+then up at her in grave reproach.
+
+"Oh, Phronsie, you can take some of my money," began Polly. "We needn't
+wait for that, need we, Mamsie?" she cried, wrinkling up her forehead
+impatiently.
+
+"I want my own little purse," said Phronsie decidedly.
+
+"Yes, Mamsie will get it," said Mrs. Fisher; "that is, if Mrs. Whitney can
+wait." She cast a glance over Polly into the pleasant face above.
+
+"Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Whitney, with a cheery smile; "I think Phronsie
+had much better have her own little purse."
+
+"And I want my own purse, too," declared little Dick, struggling to get
+down from the seat where he was wedged in with Jasper and Phronsie, "Mine
+is big like a man's," he added, with great importance.
+
+"Dear me!" Mrs. Whitney burst into a merry laugh. "Mrs, Fisher, do you
+think you could be troubled enough to get Dicky boy's purse, too?" she
+asked.
+
+"I don't find it any trouble," said Mrs. Fisher, with another laugh, "to
+get them both." So Phronsie's little purse, with a chain to hang on her
+arm, and Dick's bigger one, that folded like a pocketbook, were both handed
+into the carriage, Thomas cracked the whip, and off they went to see
+Candace in her little shop on Temple Place.
+
+The next day but one, Rachel was visiting in the little stone house among
+the boulders. Phronsie had carefully explained how the reason that the cups
+and saucers were all on the ground and the dish-towels thrown carelessly
+aside, was that they had gone away with Auntie, who couldn't be kept
+waiting.
+
+"Well, let's wash 'em up now," said Rachel, flying for one of the
+diminutive dish-towels.
+
+"I'm going to clean out the cupboard," declared little Dick, going back to
+his original purpose.
+
+"Let us do the cups and saucers first," said Phronsie, with gentle
+determination, setting down Clorinda on a stone seat next to Rachel's doll,
+and carefully smoothing out her dress.
+
+"No, I want to do the cupboard," persisted little Dick, with strange
+obstinacy, for he was generally quite willing to give up to Phronsie.
+
+"I tell you, Phronsie," broke in Rachel suddenly: "let's all set up the
+cupboard first, and then it will be ready to put the clean dishes into.
+That's the best way."
+
+"Oh, let us," said Phronsie, easily pleased, and giving a last pat to
+Rachel's doll. So she ran over to join the others, and, getting down on her
+knees, she began to fumble within the little cupboard. Dick had already
+opened the door, which was accomplished by taking away the stone.
+
+"Now you take out one thing, Phronsie, and I'll take out the next," said
+little Dick, crowding up as close as he could get.
+
+"And then I'll take the things," said Rachel, sitting down a little
+distance off, between the two, "as you hand 'em out; so we'll all clean out
+the cupboard. Hullo! what's this?"--as Phronsie handed out the first
+article.
+
+"That's a top," said little Dick, looking back at her.
+
+"A top!" cried Rachel in derision. "Why, it won't spin; not a bit in this
+world."
+
+"It would before it was broken," said Phronsie, for Dick had his face
+pressed close to the door of the cupboard, while his brown fingers were
+prowling about its interior.
+
+"Dear me! why don't you throw it away?" cried Rachel. "An old broken thing
+like that is no good."
+
+"Oh, we wouldn't ever throw it away, Rachel," said Phronsie, in alarm.
+"That's our dear top, and it used to spin beautifully," and she took it
+affectionately out of Rachel's hand.
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Rachel. "Well, what's the next thing?"--as little
+Dick backed away from the cupboard. "What is it?"--as he placed some
+article in her hand.
+
+"They're a pair of her doll's eyes," said little Dick.
+
+"Oh, misery me!" cried Rachel, tumbling backward, the pair of eyes in her
+hand. "Why don't you have 'em put back in your doll, Phronsie?"
+
+"Because these are broken," said Phronsie, hanging on to the top with one
+hand, while she reached out the other, "and Grandpapa took my child down
+and got her new eyes."
+
+"Well, what makes you save these?" said Rachel, sitting straight again;
+"they're no use, Phronsie, now they're broken. Throw them away, do."
+
+"No, no," protested Phronsie, holding the pair of eyes very closely in her
+warm little palm, "they were my child's; I'm going to keep them always."
+
+"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Rachel faintly, "you'll never set up your cupboard
+if you're going to put everything back again the same as it was. Well, pull
+out the next thing, Phronsie; it's your turn."
+
+So Phronsie set her two treasures down in a niche in the big boulder, and
+leaned over the door of the cupboard.
+
+"I'm going clear back," she announced, running her fat little arm as far as
+it would go, to bring it out with something round in the middle of her
+palm.
+
+"What is it?" asked Rachel curiously. "Whatever in all this world,
+Phronsie?"--at the queer little wad in Phronsie's hand.
+
+"Oh, that?" said little Dick, before Phronsie could answer; "that's what
+the squirrel gave us, a lo--ong time ago, Rachel."
+
+"The squirrel gave you?" she cried. "I suppose it's a nut," she added
+carelessly.
+
+"No, 'tisn't a nut," said Phronsie, still keeping it in her hand, and
+shaking her head decidedly, "and he was a naughty squirrel; he was in a
+bird's nest."
+
+"In a bird's nest? What do you mean, and how could you see him?" demanded
+Rachel, all three questions in one breath.
+
+"We looked up," said little Dick, throwing his head back to illustrate his
+speech, "and he was right there "--pointing up to the highest branches of
+the apple tree--"way up on top."
+
+"And the poor bird was screaming," said Phronsie, snuggling up to Rachel's
+side, but still not offering to give up the little green wad. "Poor little
+bird!--she made a new house, she added sorrowfully.
+
+"And the naughty squirrel was pulling out all the things in her house,"
+said little Dick, breaking in with gusto, "and flinging them down; and he
+threw us this. Show her, Phronsie."
+
+So Phronsie opened her hand and held it up, the little green wad in the
+center.
+
+"Oh, isn't it funny!" Rachel was going to say. Instead, she seized it,
+twitched it apart, and hopped up to her feet; then, deserting the two
+children, ran like lightning up the green bank, two torn bits of paper
+fluttering in her hand. And not observing where she went, she ran directly
+into old Mr. King taking a constitutional on the lawn.
+
+"Bless me! what is it?" he gasped, putting out a strong hand to save her
+from a fall.
+
+"It's the _ten-dollar bill!_" panted Rachel. "Don't you see?"--waving
+it at him.
+
+
+
+
+THE END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Five Little Peppers and their Friends
+by Margaret Sidney
+
+*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS ***
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