XVIII
IN THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE
The delights of that day at Strawberry Hill never died out ofremembrance, as Joel and David went over it constantly, so thatthe whole Pepper family soon felt that they had been of thecompany in the stage-coach along with Mr. Tisbett. Only whenonce the story was told of the trouble with Jim, as it was byDavid, Mrs. Pepper decided that that should never be referred toagain. But her black eyes glowed when little David proudlyrelated how Joel had stopped the beating that Jim's father wasgiving him, although the account was much delayed, Davie was insuch a tremble.
But the dinner! The two boys couldn't tell enough times to suitthemselves or their audience, about that wonderful meal.
"How did it taste?" asked Polly, as Joel finished thedescription of Mrs. Green's raspberry shortcake, and smacked hislips over it.
"Just like all the best things you ever tasted in your life,Polly Pepper," he answered. "And the juice ran out all over it,and there was sugar on top."
"Oh, Joel," cried Polly, incredulously, "not sugar on top, andinside too!" and she paused to think how such a fine shortcakecould taste.
"Yes, there was," said Joel; "lots and lots of sugar, PollyPepper, was all sprinkled on top. Wasn't it, Dave?"
"Yes," said little Davie, and his mouth watered as he thought ofit.
"And sugar inside--was it sweet?" persisted Polly, stillstanding quite still.
"As sweet as anything," declared Joel, positively, and bobbinghis stubby black head. "You can't think what a shortcake thatwas, Polly, if you try ever so hard."
"Mamsie," cried Polly, suddenly, "do you suppose we'll ever haveone? Do you?"
"Maybe," said Mrs. Pepper, not looking into the brown eyes, butkeeping her own bent on her work; "but I wouldn't think of it,Polly, if I were you. Things don't happen if you sit down andfold your hands and watch for 'em."
"Well, I don't b'lieve it will ever happen that we do get ashortcake, any more than we had a chicken pie," said Polly, turningaway with a sigh.
"Why, you had your chicken pie, Polly," cried Joel, "only 'twasa goose."
"Old gray goose!" said Polly, scornfully. "It was trimmed with aposy, though, and that was nice, wasn't it, Mammy?" brighteningup.
"Yes, indeed," cried Mrs. Pepper, cheerily; "and you baked it sogood, Polly."
"So it was baked good," said Polly, all her good humor returning."And it did not make so much matter, did it, Mamsie, that he wastough?"
"No, indeed," said Mrs. Pepper, laughing; "he lasted all thelonger, you know, Polly."
"Mean old gray goose!" exclaimed Joel, at the remembrance; "hemost broke my teeth, trying to eat him."
"Do you remember, Joe, how you teased for the drumstick?"laughed Polly. "You soon put it down on your plate, didn't you?"
"Yes," said Joel, bobbing his head, "I remember, Polly. Icouldn't bite a single thing off. Mean old goose!"
"He looked nice," said little Davie, thoughtfully, "he was sobrown, and there were Polly's flowers on top of him."
"Yes," said Polly, "those were nice, children. Well, p'r'apswe'll get a really and truly chicken pie sometime. And if theold stove would behave, and not have these dreadful holes comingall the time, where the putty tumbles out, it would be perfectlysplendid. Now," cried Polly, running up to the stove, andshaking her brown head at it, "you've got to do your very best.If you don't, I'm sure I shall just give up!"
"Will you cry, Polly?" asked Phronsie, creeping up behind her.
"Yes, maybe," said Polly, recklessly. "Yes, I really think Ishall have to cry, Phronsie, if that old stove lets the puttyBen put in last week tumble out again."
"Then it mustn't, Polly," said Phronsie, very decidedly, "letthe--What is it Ben put in?"
"The putty, child," said Polly.
"It mustn't let the putty tumble out," said Phronsie. Then sheran up to the stove, and laid her little face up against itscold, black surface, for on summer afternoons there was neverany fire in it. "You mustn't be naughty, old stove," she said,"for then Polly will cry."
"Oh, Phronsie!" cried Polly, "you've smutted your face, andblacked up your nice clean dress," and she pulled her back indismay.
"O dear!" whimpered Phronsie, in distress, as she looked down atthe long black streak across her pink calico gown. "I didn'tmean to, Polly; truly, I didn't."
"Never mind," said Mrs. Pepper, looking across the kitchen;"Mother'll wash it out for you by and by. Put on another one,Polly."
"Let me wash it, Mammy," begged Polly, carrying Phronsie off towash her face and get her into another gown.
"No, you'll only spread it more, for you don't know how, Polly,"answered Mother Pepper. So Polly, feeling as if there were agreat many things she must grow up and learn, hurried off withPhronsie into the bedroom.
And then it was that Joel suddenly thought of the circus hemeant to have whenever the time came ready. "Come on out to thewoodpile, Dave," he said, "and let's talk it over."
It was a good two hours after when Joel and David clambered downfrom the woodpile, and ran into the house.
"Joel," said Mother Pepper, "you forgot to fill up the wood box;see, it's nearly empty."
"It's always empty," Joel began, his head nearly bursting withbig plans for his circus.
"Joel," said Mrs. Pepper, sternly, "don't let me ever hear youfret at your work again. Go straight out and bring in thekindlings."
"And I'm going to help, too," cried David, skipping after. So itwasn't very long before the two boys had brought in two goodbasketsful of kindlings, which just filled the wood box behindthe stove.
"I'm glad it's done," remarked Joel, with great satisfaction,knocking off the little splinters sticking to his fingers.
"People always are glad when their work is finished," said Mrs.Pepper, breaking off a fresh needleful of thread.
"Shall you be glad, Mamsie?" suddenly asked Joel, who nevercould get over the idea that it was a perfect delight to hismother to sit and sew.
"Of course she will," cried Polly, unguardedly. "Mamsie's tiredto death sewing and working all the time."
Little David's face grew very long, and he turned away, hopingno one would see him cry. Joel burst into a loud fit of sobbing.
"I think--it's--too--too bad," he blubbered, covering his facewith his arm, "that Mamsie has--has--to sew and work--all thetime."
"Now you see, Polly," said Mrs. Pepper, putting aside her workand drawing Joel on her lap, "what mischief a few words can do.There, there, Joel, don't cry," and she patted his black hair."Mother's glad to work for her children, and she gets restedwhen they're good." But Joel sobbed on, and she had to repeat itmany times before he would wipe his tears, and be comforted.Little Davie drew near silently, to hear what she said.
Phronsie, in the bedroom, saw Joel in Mamsie's lap, and Daviehanging over her chair, and she pattered across the kitchenfloor. "Take me, too, do Mamsie," holding out her arms.
"So Mamsie will," cried Mrs. Pepper, heartily, and drawing herup to sit next to Joel, on her lap. When little Davie saw that,"I wish there was room," he said softly, "to hold me, too,Mamsie."
"Well, there is," said Mother Pepper, opening her arms, "and forPolly, too," for she saw Polly's head drooping from her reproof.
"Oh, Mamsie!" cried Polly, running over to her, to get withinthe good arms, though she couldn't sit on her lap, of course, asthere were three little Peppers there already; "I'm sorry Ispoke, but I didn't think."
"Didn't think makes most all of the trouble in this world," saidMrs. Pepper, gravely; "so see to it that next time you don'thave to make that excuse, Polly child," and she dropped a kisson Polly's red cheek.
"It's just this way, children," she went on, smiling on all thebunch; "Mother is really glad to work, and every stitch she putsin, she keeps thinking, now that's for Ben and Polly and Joeland David and Phronsie." Mother Pepper's black eyes wentlovingly around on all the faces so near her own. "And I keeplooking ahead, too, to the time when the little brown housepeople are going out into the world an
d--"
"Oh, we aren't ever going out into the world, Mammy," declaredPolly, in alarm. "We are going to stay in the little brown houseforever'n ever."
"Forever'n ever," echoed Phronsie, folding her hands tightlytogether; while the two boys vociferously protested that nothingshould ever drive them out of the little brown house. "No, noteven to live over in Strawberry Hill with nice Mrs. Green."
"Well, anyway, we must all live and grow up so that the littlebrown house won't be ashamed of us," said Mrs. Pepper, "andthat's what Mother is working for; so don't let me hear any morecrying about it. Now remember, all of you." With that she openedher arms wide again. "Now scamper off," she said, with a brightsmile, and she picked up her sewing and sent her needle cheerilyin and out once more.
That evening, after the supper things were all cleared away,Joel began by drawing Davie off in a corner to whisper mysteriously."Let him alone, Polly," said Ben, in a low voice. "Joe'll tell of hisown accord, pretty soon."
And sure enough, it wasn't ten minutes. Mother Pepper had goneinto the bedroom to tuck Phronsie away for the night, when Joelsaid triumphantly, "We know something, Dave and me, and we won'ttell what 'tis."
"All right," said Ben, coolly. "Polly, I guess I'll mend Mamsie'swashboard. I shan't have another chance so good this week."
"I wish you would, Bensie," said Polly, well pleased, for Pollydearly loved everything kept mended up, and "shipshape," as Mrs.Pepper used to say. "I'll spread the paper down so you don't getany mess on the floor." So she ran to the pile of old weeklynewspapers her mother always saved, when any of the Badgertownpeople sent her a copy, as they did once in a while, andflapping one open, she soon had a "paper carpet," as she saidmerrily, on the floor. And Ben, coming out from the woodshed,with the washboard in his hand, together with the hammer andnails, the kitchen began to hum with the noise.
"Yes," said Joel, loudly, "we do; we know something real fine,Dave and I. Don't we, Dave?" with a nip on Davie's little arm.
"Ow!" said Davie.
"That so?" assented Ben, coolly.
"Yes, and we aren't goin' to tell, either," said Joel, "not asingle word; so there, Ben!" Then he began to whisper as fast ashe could to David.
"You'll tell, yourself, Joe, without anybody's asking," said Ben,as Joel began again with: "It's perfectly splendid, Ben Pepper.And oh, Polly, you don't know what we do; does she, Dave?"
"Polly and I will know pretty soon," added Ben.
"No, you won't, either," contradicted Joel. "We aren't ever inall this world goin' to tell of the circus I'm goin' to--"
"There!" shouted Ben, throwing down the hammer. "You've told it,Joe, just the same as I knew you would. Ha, ha!"
"Don't, Ben," begged Polly, "it teases Joel. Well, we don't knowwhat kind of a circus you are going to have, Joey," she saidkindly, "so we'll be just as much surprised when we see it."
"Will you?" cried Joel; "well, then, Polly, I'd rather tell thewhole, if you'll be surprised when you see all the animals."
"I guess you will," said Ben, in a low voice; "there's no dangerin promising that."
"I truly will, Joey," promised Polly. "Do be still, Ben."
"Well, to begin with, Polly, there's going to be a rhodo--What'sthat you told us about in your story of the circus?"
"Hoh, hoh!" laughed Ben, busily at work over the washboard,"there's your rhododendron, Polly. I thought Joel wouldn'tforget to have one in his circus."
"Go on, Joel," said Polly, with a cold shoulder for Ben. "Now Iknow your circus is going to be perfectly elegant," she criedenthusiastically, running over to their corner. "Do tell usabout it, Joel."
Joel, vastly complimented that Polly took such an interest inhis plan, now began lustily to set it forth, and little Daviepiped in whenever there was a chance for a word, which wasn'toften. And finally Ben said, "I guess I'll move my washboard andthe 'paper carpet' up there with you all," and Polly said, "Oh,do, Ben."
And presently they were all so very jolly, Ben deciding not tosay anything more of Polly's rhododendron, that none of themknew when Mother Pepper said above their heads, "I thought youdidn't know 'twas five minutes past your bedtime, Joel andDavid," pointing to the clock.