XIII
PASSENGERS FOR THE BOXFORD STAGE
"I declare, that's fine!" said Ben, the next day. It was dulland cloudy, and he squinted up at the sky. "There isn't a bit ofwind. Now Mr. Blodgett'll have that bonfire, I guess; that'llsuit you, Joe, as you can't have much fun with that hand."
Joel squealed right out. "That's prime! And I can pile in thesticks and straw just as well with my other hand."
"You aren't goin' to touch that bonfire, once it's lighted,"declared Ben, in his most decided way. "Now you remember that,Joe Pepper!"
"There ain't any good in it, if I can't help," cried Joel,horribly disappointed.
"You can see it," said Ben, "same's David."
"Hoh! what's that!" cried Joel; "that won't be any fun."
"Then you can stay at home," said Ben, coolly. "As for havingyou, Joe, careering round that fire, and cutting up your capers,we ain't goin' to let you. Like enough you'd be half burnt up."
"Phoo!" cried Joel, in high disdain, and snapping the fingers ofhis well hand, "I wouldn't get afire."
"I wouldn't trust you. You'd be afire before you knew it. Youneedn't tease, Joe; Mamsie wouldn't allow it." And Ben walkedoff and shut the door.
"Ben never let's me do anything," howled Joel, twisting his faceup into a dreadful knot, and wishing there was something hecould do with his left hand, for the other was all tied up in asling, Mother Pepper wisely concluding that to be the only wayto keep it still. "If I tie it up, Joel, you can't use it," shehad said, fastening the broad strip of white cloth firmly overhis shoulder. And Joel, knowing there was no use in protesting,had borne it as well as he could, making Davie wait on him, anddriving Polly almost to despair in her efforts to amuse him,while she did up the morning work, Mother Pepper being away."Why don't you play stage-coach, Joel?" proposed Polly now, asJoel couldn't vent his disappointment loudly enough.
"That's no fun, with one hand," said Joel, disconsolately,drumming on the window pane.
"Some folks always drive with their left hand," said Polly.
"Mr. Tisbett doesn't," said Joel, gloomily regarding the bunchof white cloth that covered his right hand. "He always driveswith this one," sticking it out, "'cept when he takes both."
"Well, you can play there's been an accident, and you got hurt,and so you had to drive with that hand," said Polly.
"So I can," cried Joel, bounding away from the window, "so I can,Polly Pepper. I'll have it right now, and it's to be a perfectlyawful one. Come on, Dave, let's fix up the coach, and you getinside, and I'll upset you, and most smash everything to death."And Joel ran hither and thither, dragging the chairs, andPhronsie's little cricket, and everything movable into place aswell as he could with one hand.
"Take care, Joe," warned Polly, wondering if she hadn't donewrong in proposing stagecoach, "don't fly round so. You'll hurtyour hand. I'd get up on the front seat if I were you, and beginto drive."
"Would you have the horses run into something, Polly, kersmash,"cried Joel, tugging at Mamsie's rocking chair to bring it intoline, "or make the stage-coach tumble over and roll down hill?"
"Dear me," cried Polly, going into the pantry to mix up herbrown bread, and wondering which would be the less of the twoevils, "I'm sure I don't know, Joel."
"I'm goin' to have 'em do both," decided Joel. "Dave, pull thisup, will you?" So little David ran and gave a lift on the otherside of the big rocking chair, to haul it into place. "We'll runinto somethin' an' th' horse'll shy, and that'll make the oldstage-coach roll down hill. Gee-whickets!" he brought up, inhuge delight.
"I shan't let you play it at all," said Polly, from the pantry,"if you say such words, Joel. You'll just have to stop and goand sit down. So remember."
Joel was clambering up into Mr. Tisbett's seat on the box, buthe ducked his head at Polly's rebuke. "Get in, Dave," he shouted,recovering himself. "Hurry up. You're the passenger that wantsto go to Boxford. You're awful slow. I'll drive off without youif you don't make haste," he threatened, gathering up in hisleft hand the bits of string that were fastened to a nail in thecorner of the shelf.
Little David, feeling it a dreadful calamity to be left behindwhen he wanted to go to Boxford, hopped nimbly into the openingin the pile of chairs that represented the stage-coach, and offthey drove.
"I can't hold my whip," cried Joel in distress, after a minuteor so of bowling along on the road to Boxford, accompanied withmuch shouting to Mr. Tisbett's pair of black horses, andexcitement generally as the stage-driver tried to get out of theway of the great number of teams on the turnpike. "O dear, itain't any fun without the whip!" and the whole establishmentcame to a dead stop.
"I'll hold the whip," cried the passenger, eagerly, poking hishead out of the stage-coach window.
"No, you won't, either," cried Joel. "You're the passenger. Odear me, there ain't any fun without th' whip!"
"Then I can drive," said little David. "Do let me, Joel," hepleaded.
"I won't either," declared Joel, flatly. "I'm Mr. Tisbett, andbesides, there won't be anybody inside if you get up here."
"Phronsie might be passenger," said David, reflecting a moment.
"Goody, oh, so she might!" cried Joel, "and Seraphina too. Andthat'll make more upset. Then you may come up here, Dave," hepromised. But when Polly was made acquainted with this fine plan,she refused to allow Phronsie to enter into such a noisy play. AndJoel's face dropped so dismally that she was at her wits' endto know how to straighten out the trouble. Just then one ofthe Henderson boys came up to the door with a little pat ofbutter in a dish for Mrs. Pepper.
"Here comes Peletiah Henderson," announced Polly, catching sightof him through the window. "Now, p'r'aps he can stop and playwith you, Joel."
"He ain't much good to play," answered Joel, who never seemed tobe able to wake up the quiet boy to much action.
"Oh, Joel, he'll play real pretty, I guess," said Polly,reprovingly, "and he's such a good boy."
"He might be the passenger," said Joel, thinking busily, asPolly ran to the door to let the Henderson boy in. "We'll playhe's the minister goin' over to preach in Boxford, and we'llupset him just before he gets there. Jump out, Dave, and getup here."
"I don't know as we ought to upset him if he's the minister,"objected David, doubtfully, as he clambered up to Joel's side.Still, a perfect thrill of delight seized him at his promotionto the seat of honor, and his little hands trembled as Joel laidthe precious whip within them.
"No, I guess I'd rather you had the reins," decided Joel,twitching away the whip to lay the bits of string in David'slittle brown hands. "You can drive first, 'cause I want to crackthe whip awful loud as we start. And then I'll take 'em again."
David, who would much rather have cracked the whip, said nothing,feeling it bliss enough to be up there on the box and doingsomething, as Peletiah, a light-haired, serious boy, walkedslowly into the kitchen.
"You're the passenger," shouted Joel at him, and cracking hiswhip, "and you're going over to Boxford. Hurry up and get intothe stage-coach. I'm Mr. Tisbett."
"'YOU'RE THE PASSENGER!' SHOUTED JOEL"]
"And I'm helping, Peletiah," cried David, turning a very pinkand happy face down toward him.
"I don't want to go to Boxford," said Peletiah, deliberately,and standing quite still, while Polly ran into the pantry toslip the little pat of butter on to another plate.
"Oh, how good it looks!" she said, longing for just one taste.
"Well, you've got to go," said Joel, obstinately, "so get in."
"I don't want to go to Boxford," repeated Peletiah, not stirring.
Joel cracked the whip angrily, and glared down at him.
"P'r'aps he wants to go somewhere else," said little David,leaning forward and clutching the reins carefully, "and that'llbe just as good."
"Do you?" asked Joel, crossly. "Want to go anywheres else,Peletiah?"
Peletiah considered so long over this that Joel, drumming withhis heels on the dashboard, got tired out, and shouted, "Hurryup and get in--t
h' stage-coach's goin'!" which had the desiredeffect, to make the passenger skip in much livelier than heintended.
"Now we're goin' to Boxford," announced Joel, positively,cracking his whip at its loudest. "Be careful, David; hold thehorses up."
"He said he didn't want to go to Boxford," put in little David,trembling all over at the vast responsibility of holding in Mr.Tisbett's black horses, and the passenger's being taken where hedidn't want to go.
"Well, he didn't tell us where he did want to go," said Joel,"and th' stage is goin' to Boxford. Boxford, Box," he screamedto imaginary people along the road. "Anybody want to go toBoxford?"
"I said I didn't want to go to Boxford," interrupted thepassenger in the general din.
"Well, you've got to," said Joel, "'cause the stage is goin'there. Boxford--Boxford! Anybody goin' to Boxford? Want to go,Marm?" an imaginary old woman sitting on a stone by the roadside.
"I'm goin' to get out," announced Peletiah, in a tone thatconvinced Joel that remonstrance was useless.
"No, you mustn't," cried Joel, "and you can't, either, for th'accident's comin' now," he added cheerfully.
Davie held his breath, and clutched the lines tighter yet, andJoel screamed shrilly, "Look out!" and gave an awful kick withhis heels to the back of the top chair, and before anybody couldsay a word, over it came, knocking Davie with it, and before thepassenger could get out, Mr. Tisbett and his assistant and thebest part of the whole establishment seemed to be on top of him.
Polly heard the noise and came rushing out. "Oh, boys--boys!"she cried in a fright, "are you hurt?" for everything seemed tobe in a heap together, with some small legs kicking wildly about,trying to extricate the persons to whom they belonged.
"I ain't," announced Joel, hopping out of the heaps and shakingthe black hair out of his eyes. "Oh, Polly, it was such fun!" hecried.
"Davie! Davie and Peletiah!" cried Polly, an awful dread at herheart, on account of the little guest, as she hung over thewreck, pulling busily at the chairs, "are you all safe?"
Little David tried to speak, but his head ached dreadfully, andthe breath seemed to have left his body. Peletiah said slowly,"I barked my shin, and I didn't want to go to Boxford."
"O dear me," exclaimed Polly, fishing him out, "that's too bad!Joel, you oughtn't to have taken him to Boxford if he didn'twant to go."
"That wouldn't 'a' made any difference," declared Joel, "'causewe had to get upset, anyway."
"Well, Davie's hurt, I expect," said Polly, looking Peletiahcarefully all over, as in duty bound to a guest, as he stood upbefore her.
"Oh, no, I ain't, Polly," said little David, trying to speakcheerfully, and crawling out with a big lump on his forehead.
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, at sight of it. "Well, I'm glad,child, it's no worse," as she rapidly examined the rest of him."Now you must have some pieces of wet brown paper on that."
"I'm glad I haven't got to have wet brown paper all over me,"declared Joel, with a grimace--"old, slippery, shiny brownpaper."
"I barked my shin," gravely announced Peletiah, standing quitestill.
"Oh, so you did," cried Polly, with a remorseful twinge. "Nowyou must wait, Davie, till I fix Peletiah up, for he's company,you know."
"I guess Grandma's got some wormwood--the stuff she made forPhronsie's toe when 'twas pounded," suggested Joel, quiteoblivious to the black looks which Peletiah was constantlycasting on him.
"You may run over and see," said Polly. "O dear me, no, youcan't, Joe, just look at your hand!" as she happened to glanceup.
Joel looked down quickly at the big white bundle in the sling."There ain't nothin'--" He was going to say, "the matter with myhand, Polly," when he saw some very red spots spreading quicklyalong its surface.
"Oh, now you've burst open the cut," cried Polly, forgettingherself, and turning quite white. "What shall we do, and Mamsieaway!"
Little David, at that, burst into a loud cry, and Joel tried tosay, "No, I haven't," but looking very scared at Polly's scream.
"Oh, I'll fix it, Joe," she exclaimed in haste, though how shemanaged to get the words out she never knew. "Let me see, Mamsiewould untie it if she were here, and put on court plaster. Now,David, you run over to Grandma's and ask her to give us somemore. She told us to come if we wanted it, and I'll put on a freshpiece just as tight, oh, you can't think!" Polly kept talking all thetime, feeling that she should drop if she didn't, and little David,forgetting all about the lump on his forehead, that now was mostas big as an egg, ran off as fast as he could, and presently returnedwith the court plaster, waving it over his head.
Polly took off the bloody rag, setting her lips tightly together,until she saw Joel's face again. Then she began quickly, "Oh,what a nice time you're goin' to have at the bonfire, Joe!"
"Is there goin' to be a bonfire?" asked Peletiah, with moreinterest than he had hitherto shown.
"Yes," said Polly, "there is, Peletiah. Mr. Blodgett's goin' toburn up all that rubbish left after he pulled down his cow-pen,you know."
"When's he goin' to burn it?" continued Peletiah.
"This afternoon," said Polly. "Ben's over there, and Joel's goin',and David." All the while she was dabbing off the blood runningout of the side where the court plaster slipped when the stagewent over. Then she cut off another bit from the piece Grandmasent over, and quickly pasted it over the edge of the old piece."There now, Joey," she cried, "that's as nice as can be! NowI'll get you a fresh piece of cloth to tie it up in."
"I don't want it tied up," cried Joel, wiggling his fingers;"they feel so good to be out, Polly."
"Oh, you must have 'em tied up," cried Polly, decisively,running back with the cloth. "Hold your hand still, Joe; therenow, says I, that's all done!" She gave a great sigh of relief,when at last Joel's arm was once more in its sling.
"I'm glad it's all back again, Polly," said little David,viewing the white bundle with satisfaction.
"So am I, I declare," said Polly, folding her hands to rest abit.
"I guess I'll go to that bonfire," observed Peletiah. At thesound of his voice, Polly came to herself with a little gasp."Oh, I forgot all about you, Peletiah, and David's head. I'llsee your shin first, 'cause you're company."
When Peletiah's small trouser leg was pulled up, Polly saw withdismay a black and blue spot rapidly spreading. "O dear me," shecried, down on her knees, "what will dear Mrs. Henderson say?and she's so good to us!"
"And I didn't want to go to Boxford, either," said Peletiah.
"Well, David, you must just run back and ask Grandma if we mayhave a little wormwood," said Polly. "I'd go, but I don't liketo leave you children alone," in distress as she saw Davie'slump on his forehead, and his hot, tired face. "I'm sorry, foryou've just been over."
"I'll go," cried Joel, springing off, but Polly called him back.
"No, you can't, Joe," she cried, "you'll burst that cut openagain, maybe. Davie must go. Tell Grandma one of the minister'sboys has got hurt."
So Davie ran over again, trying not to think how his head ached,and in he came in a few minutes with the bunch of wormwooddangling at his side.
"She said--Grandma did--pound it up and tie it on with a rag, ifyou haven't got time to steep it," said Davie, relinquishing thebundle into Polly's hand, "and to put some on my head, too," headded, feeling this to be a calamity as much worse as could beimagined than to have on the brown paper bits.
"So I will," declared Polly. "Oh, how good of Grandma! Boys, wemust do ever and all we can for her, she's so nice to us. Now Imust pound this up, just as she said."
This operation was somewhat delayed by all three of the boyshanging over her and getting in the way. And Phronsie, who hadbeen busy with Seraphina in the bedroom, now running out to addherself to the number, it was a little time before Peletiah'ssmall leg had the wet rag tied on.
"Well, now you're done," said Polly, thankfully, "and you'dbetter run home, Peletiah, and tell your mother all about it,and how sorry we are."
"Yes," said Peletiah, slowly m
oving off, "I will, 'cause shetold me to come right back."
"Oh, Peletiah!" exclaimed Polly, in horror, "and you've beenhere all this time!"
"And I didn't want to go to Boxford," said Peletiah, going off.Pretty soon, back he came, just as Polly finished bathingDavie's head. "I'll take the dish," he said. "Mother said bringit back."