 Chapter 9 But as Joel was smitten down suddenly, so he came up quickly, and his hearty nature asserted itself by rapid strides toward returning health, and one morning he astonished them all by turning over suddenly, and exclaiming, I want something to eat! Bless the Lord! cried Mrs. Pepper, now he's going to live! But he mustn't eat! protested Mrs. Beebe in great alarm, trotting for the cup of gruel. Here, you pretty creature, you hear something nice! Then she temptingly held the spoon over Joel's mouth, but with a grimace he turned away. Oh, I want something to eat! Some gingerbread, or some bread and butter! Tear me, ejaculated Mrs. Beebe, gingerbread! Poor Mrs. Pepper saw the hardest part of her trouble now before her, as she realized that the returning appetite must be fed only on strengthening food, and for where it was to come from she couldn't tell. The Lord only knows where we'll get it, she groaned within herself. Yes, he knew. A wrap at the door and little David ran down to find the cause. Oh, mammy! he said, Mrs. Henderson sent it, see, see! And in the greatest excitement he placed in her lap a basket that smelt savory and nice, even before it was opened. When it was opened, there lay a little bird, delicately roasted and folded in a clean napkin, also a glass of jelly, crimson and clear. Oh, Joey! cried Mrs. Pepper, almost overwhelmed with joy. See what Mrs. Henderson sent you! Now you can eat fit for a king! That little bird certainly performed its mission in life, for as Mrs. Beebe said, it's just touched the spot. And from that very moment Joel improved so rapidly they could hardly believe their eyes. Oh! I haven't been sick! he cried on the third day, true to his nature. Mammy, I want to get up! Oh, dear no! you mustn't, Joel! cried Mrs. Pepper, in a fright, running up to him as he was preparing to give the bedclothes a lusty kick. You send him in! Sent what in? asked Joel, looking up at his mother in terror as the dreadful thought made him pause. Why, the measles, Joey, they'll go go in if you get out. Are they going to get in again, I'd like to know? asked Joel, looking at the little red spots on his hands in incredulity. Same, huh? Well, they will, said his mother, as you'll soon find to your sorrow if you get out of bed. Oh! dear! said Joel, beginning to whimper as he drew into bed again. When can I get up, Mammy? Oh! in a day or two, responded Mrs. Pepper cheerfully, while you'll be getting on so finally you'll be smart as a cricket. Shouldn't you say he should get up in a day or two, Mrs. Beebe? She appealed to that individual, who was knitting away cheerily in the corner. Well, if he keeps on as he's begun, I shouldn't know what to think! replied Mrs. Beebe. It beats all how he's picked up! I never see anything like it, I'm sure. And as Mrs. Beebe was a great authority in sickness, the old, sunny cheeriness began to creep into the brown house once more, and to bubble over as of yore. Seems as if it was just good to live, said Mrs. Pepper thankfully once, when her thoughts were too much for her. I don't believe I shall ever care how poor we are, she continued, as long as we're together. And that's just what the Lord meant, maybe, replied good Mrs. Beebe, who was preparing to go home. Joel kept the house in a perfect uproar, all through his getting well. Mrs. Pepper observed one day, when he had been more turbulent than usual, that she was almost worn to a thread. It wasn't anything to take care of you, Joe, she added, when you were real sick, because then I knew where you were. But, well, you won't ever have the measles again, I suppose, and that's some comfort. Little David, who had been nearly stunned by the sickness that had laid aside his almost constant companion, could express his satisfaction and joy in no other way than by running every third minute and begging to do something for him. And Joel, who loved dearly to be waited on, improved every opportunity that offered, which Mrs. Pepper, observing, soon put a stop to. He'll run his legs off, Joel, at last she said, when he sent David the third time down to the wood-pile for a stick of just the exact thickness in which the little messenger declared wasn't to be found. Haven't you any mercy? You kept him going all day, too, she added, glancing at David's pale face. Oh, mammy, panted David, don't. I love to go. Here, Joe, it's the best I could find, handing him a nice smooth stick. I know you do, said his mother, but Joe's getting better now, and he must learn to spare you. I don't want to spare folks, grumbled Joel, whittling away with energy. I've been sick, real sick, he added, lifting his chubby face to his mother to impress that fact. I know you have, she cried, running to kiss her boy, but now, Joe, you're almost well. Tomorrow I'm going to let you go downstairs. What do you think of that? Hooray! screamed Joel, throwing away the stick, and clapping his hands, forgetting all about his serious illness. That'll be prime! Aren't you too sick to go, Joey? asked Mrs. Pepper, mischievously. No, I'm not sick! cried Joel, in the greatest alarm, fearful his mother meant to take back the promise. I've never been sick! Oh, mammy, you know you'd let me go, won't you? I guess so, laughed his mother. Come on, fron! cried Joel, giving her a whirl. David, who was too tired for active sport, sat on the floor and watched them frolic in great delight. Mammy, said he, edging up to her side, as the sport went on. Do you know? I think it's just good. It's—oh, it's so frisky, since Joe got well, isn't it, mammy? Yes, indeed, said Mrs. Pepper, giving him a radiant look and return for his. And when Polly's around again with her two eyes all right, well, I don't know what we shall do, I declare. Boo! cried a voice, next morning, close to Polly's elbow, and unmistakably Joel's. Oh, Joel Pepper! she cried whirling around. Is that really you? Yes! cried that individual, confidently. It's I. Oh, I say, Polly, I've had fun upstairs. I tell you what. Poor boy! said Polly, compassionately. I wasn't a poor boy! cried Joel indignantly. I had splendid things to eat. Oh, my! And he closed one eye and smacked his lips in the delightful memory. I know it, said Polly, and I'm so glad, Joel. I don't suppose I'll ever get so many again, observed Joel reflectively, after a minute's pause, as one and another of the wondrous delicacies rose before his mind's eye. Not unless I have the measles again. Say, Polly, can I have them again? Marcy, no! cried Polly, an intense alarm. I hope not. Well, I don't, said Joel. I wish I could have them sixty. No, two hundred times. So there. Well, Mammy couldn't take care of you, said Ben. You don't know what you're saying, Joel. Well, then I wish I could have the things without the measles, said Joel, willing to accommodate. Only, folks won't send them, he added, in an injured tone. Polly's had the hardest time of all, said his mother, affectionately patting the bandage. I think so, too, put in Ben. If my eyes were hurt, I'd give up. So would I, said David and Joel, to be in the fashion, cried also. I know I would. Well, little Fronzie squeezed up to Polly's side. I, too. Would what, puss? asked Ben, tossing her up high. Have good things! cried the child in delight at understanding the others. I would, really, Ben! she cried gravely, and they all screamed. Well, I hope so, said Ben, tossing her higher yet. Don't laugh at her boys, put in Polly. Roe's going to have good times now, Fronzie. Now we've got well. Yes! laughed the child from her high perch. We aren't ever going to be sick again ever, not any more, she added impressively. The good times were coming for Polly. Coming pretty near, but she didn't know it. All the children were in the secret, for as Mrs. Pepper declared, they'd have to know it, and if they were led into the secret they'd keep it better. So they had individually and collectively been entrusted with the precious secret, and charged with the extreme importance of never letting any one know, and they had been nearly bursting ever since with the wild desire to impart their knowledge. I'm afraid I shall tell, said David, running to his mother at last. Oh, Mammy, I don't dare stay near Polly. I do want to tell. So bad! Oh, no you won't, David, said his mother encouragingly. When you know mother doesn't want you to, and besides, think how Polly'll look when she sees it. I knew, cried David, in the greatest rapture. I wouldn't tell for all the world. I guess she'll look nice, don't you, mother? He laughed and glee at this thought. Poor child, I guess she will. And then Mrs. Pepper laughed, too, till the little old kitchen rang with delight at the accustomed sound. The children all had to play clap in and clap out in the bedroom while it came, and stage coach, too. Anything to make noise, Ben said. And then after they got nicely started in the game he would be missing to help about the mysterious thing in the kitchen, which was safe since Polly couldn't see him go on account of her bandage, so she didn't expect in the least. And although the rest were almost dying to be out in the kitchen, they conscientiously stuck to their bargain to keep Polly occupied. Only Joel would open the door and peep once, and then Franzi behind him began, oh, I see the step! But David swooped down on her in a twinkling and smothered the rest by tickling her. Guess they came very near to having the whole thing pop out. Whatever is that noise in the kitchen? asked Polly as they all stopped to take a breath after a scuffle of stagecoach. It sounds just like raiding. I'll go and see, cried Joel promptly, and then he flew out where his mother and Ben and two men were at work on a big black thing in the corner. The old stove, strange to say, was nowhere to be seen. Something else stood in its place, a shiny black affair, with a generous supply of oven doors and altogether such a comfortable, home-like look about it, as if to say, I'm going to make sunshine in this house. Oh, Joel, cried his mother, turning around on him with very black hands. You haven't told? No, said Joel, but she's here in the noise, Polly is. Hush, said Ben, to one of the men. We can't put it up without some noise, the man replied. But we'll be still as we can. Isn't it a big one more? asked Joel in the loudest of stage whispers. The Polly, on the other side of the door, couldn't have failed to hear, if Fronzie hadn't laughed just then. Go back, Joel. Do, said Ben. Play tag. Anything, he implored. We'll be through in a few minutes. It takes forever, said Joel, disappearing within the bedroom door. Luckily, for the secret, Fronzie just then ran a pin sticking up on the arm of the old chair into her finger, and Polly, well comforting her, forgot to question Joel. And then the mother came in, and though she had ill-concealed hilarity in her voice, she kept chattering and bustling around with Polly's supper, to such an extent that there was no chance for a word to be got in. Next morning it seemed as if the little brown house would turn inside out with joy. Oh, mammy! cried Polly, jumping into her arms the first thing as Dr. Fisher untied to the bandage. My eyes are new, just the same as if I just got them. Do they look different? she asked earnestly, running to the cracked glass to see for herself. No, said Ben. I hope not. Same brown ones, Polly. Well, said Polly, hugging first one and then another. Polly looks different through them anyway. Oh, cried Joel, come out in the kitchen, Polly, it's a great deal better out there. May I?" asked Polly, who was in such a Twitter, looking at everything that she didn't know which way to turn. Yes, said the doctor, smiling at her. Well then, sang Polly, come, mammy, we'll go first. Isn't it just lovely? And—oh! Mammy! Polly turned so very pale, and looked as if she was going to tumble right over that Mrs. Pepper grasped her arm in this may. What is it? she asked, pointing to the corner, while all the children stood round in the greatest excitement. Why? cried Fransy, it's a stove! Don't you know, Polly? But Polly gave one plunge across the room, and before anybody could think, she was down on her knees with her arms flung right around that big black thing, laughing and crying over it all in the same breath. And then they all took hold of hands and danced around it, like wild little things. Well, Dr. Fisher stole out silently, and Mrs. Pepper laughed until she wiped her eyes to see them go. We aren't ever going to have any more burnt bread, sang Polly, all out of breath. Nor your back isn't going to break any more, panted Ben, with a very red face. Hey! screamed Joel and David to fill any pause that might occur, while Fransy gurgled and laughed at everything just as it came along. And then they all danced and capered again, all but Polly, who was down before the precious stove, examining and exploring its ovens and everything that belonged to it. Oh, ma! she announced, coming up to Mrs. Pepper, who had been obliged to fly to her sewing again, and exhibiting a very crocky face and a pair of extremely smutty hands. It's most all ovens, it's just splendid! I know it, answered her mother, delighted at the joy of her child. My, how black you are, Polly! Oh, I wish, cried Polly, as the thought struck her, that Dr. Fisher could see it. Where did it go, ma? I guess Dr. Fisher has seen it before, said Mrs. Pepper, and then she began to laugh. You haven't even asked where the stove gave from, Polly? And to be sure, Polly had been so overwhelmed, that if the stove had really dropped from the clouds, it would have been small matter of astonishment to her, as long as it had come. That was the main thing. Mammy, said Polly, turning around slowly with the stove-lifter in her hand, did Dr. Fisher bring that stove? He didn't exactly bring it, answered her mother, but I guess he knew something about it. Oh, he's the splendidest, goodest man, cried Polly, that ever breathed. Did he really get us that stove? Yes, said Mrs. Pepper. He would. I couldn't stop him. I don't know how he found out you wanted one so bad, but he said it must be kept as a surprise when your eyes got well. And he saved my eyes, cried Polly, full of gratitude. I've got a stove and two new eyes, Mammy, just to think. We ought to be good after all our mercies, said Mrs. Pepper, thankfully, looking around on her little group. Joel was engaged in the pleasing occupation of seeing how far he could run his head into the biggest oven, and then, pulling it out, to exhibit its blackness, thus engrossing the others in a perfect hub-bub. I'm going to bake my doctor some little cakes, declared Polly, when there was a comparative quiet. Oh, do Polly! cried Joel, and then leave one or two over. No, said Polly, we can't have any, because these must be very nice. Mammy, can't I have some white on top? Just once. Polly pleaded. I don't know, dubiously replied Mrs. Pepper. Eggs are dreadful, dear, and I don't care, said Polly recklessly. I must, just once, for Dr. Fisher. I tell you, Polly, said Mrs. Pepper, what you might do. You might make him some little apple-tarts. Most everyone likes them, you know. Well, said Polly with a sigh, I suppose it'll have to do. But some time, Mammy, I'm going to bake him a big cake. So there. Polly and Polly were busy in the kitchen. Franzi was out in the orchard, as the one scraggly apple-tree was called by courtesy, singing her ragdoll to sleep under its sheltering branches. But baby was cross and wouldn't go to sleep, and Franzi was on the point of giving up and returning to the house when a strain of music made her pause, with Dolly and her apen. There she stood with her finger in her mouth in utter astonishment, wondering where the sweet sounds came from. Oh, Franzi screamed Polly from the back door. Where are—oh, here, come quick, it's the beautifullest. What is it, eagerly asked the little one, hopping over the stubby grass, leaving poor discarded baby on its snubby nose, where it dropped in her hurry. Oh, a monkey! cried Polly, do hurry, the sweetest little monkey you ever saw. What's a monkey? asked Franzi, scurrying after Polly to the gate, where her mother was waiting for them. Why, a monkey's a—a monkey, explained Polly. I don't know any better than that. Here he is. Isn't he splendid? And she lifted Franzi up to the big post, where she could see finally. Oh! Ow! screamed little Franzi. See him, Polly, just see him! A man with an organ was standing in the middle of the road, playing away with all his might, and at the end of a long rope was a lively little monkey in a bright red coat and a smart cocked hat. The little creature pulled off his hat, and with one long jump coming on the fence he made Franzi a most magnificent bow. Strange to say the child wasn't at least frightened but put out her little fat hand, speaking in gentle tones. Poor little monkey, come here, poor little monkey! Turning up his little wrinkled face and glancing fearfully at his master, Giacomo began to grimace and beg for something to eat. The man pulled the string and struck up a merry tune, and in a minute the monkey spun around and round at such a lively pace and put in so many queer antics that the little audience were fairly convulsed with laughter. I can't pay you, said Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes, when at last the man pulled up the strap whistling to Giacomo to jump up. But I'll give you something to eat, and the monkey, too. He shall have something for his pains, and am using my children. The man looked very cross when she brought him out only brown bread and two cold potatoes. Haven't you got nothing better than that? It's as good as we have," answered Mrs. Pepper. The man threw down the bread and the road. But Giacomo thankfully ate his share. Polly and Franzi busily feeding him, and then he turned and snapped up the portion his master had left in the dusty road. Then they moved on, Mrs. Pepper and Polly going back to their work in the kitchen. A little down the road the man struck up another tune. Franzi, who had started merrily to tell baby old about it, stopped a minute to hear, and she didn't go back to the orchard. About two hours after, Polly said merrily, I'm going to call Franzi and Mammy. She must be awfully tired and hungry by this time. She sang gaily on the way, I'm coming, Franzi, coming, why, where? And peeping under the tree, baby lay on its face disconsolently on the ground, and the orchard was empty. Franzi was gone. It's no use, said Ben, to the distracted household and such of the neighbors as the news had brought hurriedly to the scene. To look any more around here. But somebody must go towards Hayam. He'd be likely to go that way. No one could tell where he would go, cried Polly, ringing her hands. But he'd change, Ben, if he thought folks would think he'd gone there, said Mrs. Pepper. We must go all roads, said Ben, firmly. One must take the staged box-fill. I'll take Deacon Brown's wagon on the Hayam Road, and somebody else must go to Toad Hollow. I'll go in the stage, screamed Joel, who could barely see out of his eyes. He had cried so. I'll find, find her, I know. We'll be spied then, Joe, and catch it at the corner. Everybody soon knew that little Franzi Pepper had gone off with a cross-organ man and an awful monkey. And in the course of an hour dozens of people were out on the hot dusty roads in search. What's the matter, asked a testy old gentleman in the stage of Joel, who in his anxiety to see both sides of the road at once bobbed the old gentleman in the face so often as the stage lurched that at last he knocked his hat over his eyes. My sister's gone off with a monkey, explained Joel, bobbing over to the other side, as he thought he caught sight of something pink that he felt sure must be Franzi's apron. Stop! Stop! There she is! He roared, and the driver, who had his instructions and was fully in sympathy, pulled up so suddenly that the old gentleman flew over into the opposite seat. Where? But when they got up to it, Joel saw that it was only a bit of pink calico flapping on a clothesline, so he climbed back and away they rumbled again. The others were having the same luck. No trace could be found of the child. To Ben, who took the Highham Road, the minute seemed like hours. I won't go back, he muttered, until I take her. I can't see mother's face." But the ten miles were nearly traversed. Almost the last hope was gone. Into every thicket and lurking place by the roadside had he peered, but no Franzi. Deacon Brown's horse began to lag. Go on, said Ben Horsley. Oh, dear Lord, make me find her! The hot sun poured down on the boy's face, and he had no cap. What cared he for that? On and on he went. Suddenly the horse stopped. Then doubled up the reins to give him a cut. Then, ho! He roared so loud that the horse in very astonishment gave a lurch, and nearly flung him headlong. But he was over the wheel in a twinkling, and out with a bound to a small thicket of scrubby bushes on a high hill by the roadside. Here lay a little bundle on the ground, and close by it a big black dog, and over the whole standing guard was a boy, a little bigger than Ben, with honest gray eyes, and the bundle was Franzi. Don't wake her up, said the boy warningly, as Ben with a hungry look in his eyes leapt up the hill. She's tired to death. She's my sister, cried Ben, of Franzi. I know it, said the boy kindly, but I wouldn't wake her up yet if I were you. I'll tell you all about it." And he took Ben's hand, which was cold as ice. CHAPTER 11 OF FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GROW This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Philip Griffiths. Five Little Peppers and How They Grew By Margaret Sidney CHAPTER 11 SAFE It's all right, Prince, the boy added, encouragingly, to the big dog, who, lifting his noble head, had turned two big eyes steadily on Ben. He's all right, lie down again. Then, flinging himself down on the grass, he told Ben how he came to rescue Franzi. Prince and I were out for a stroll, said he. I live over in Hingham, pointing to the pretty little town just a short distance before them in the hollow. That is, laughing, I do this summer. Well, we were out strolling along, about a mile below here on the crossroad, and all of a sudden, just as if they sprung right up out of the ground, I saw a man with an organ and a monkey and a little girl coming along the road. She was crying, and as soon as Prince saw that, he gave a growl. Then the man saw us, and he looked so mean and cringing, I knew there must be something wrong. And I inquired of him, what he was doing with that little girl. Then she looked up and begged so with her eyes, and all of a sudden broke away from him and ran towards me, screaming, I want Polly! Well, the man sprang after her, then I tell you. Here the boy forgot his caution about waking Franzi. We went for him, Prince and I. Prince is a noble fellow. Here the dog's ears twitched very perceptibly. And he kept to that man, oh, how he bit him, till he had to run for fear the monkey would get killed. Was Franzi frightened, asked Ben, she's never seen strangers. Not a bit, said the boy cheerily, she just clung to me like everything, I only wish she was my sister, he added impulsively. What were you going to do with her, if I hadn't come along, asked Ben. Well, I got out on the main road, said the boy, because I thought anybody who had lost her would probably come through this way. And if somebody hadn't come, I was going to carry her into Hingham, and the father and I had to contrive some way to do. Well, said Ben, as the boy finished and fastened his bright eyes on him, somebody did come along, and now I must get her home about as fast as I can for poor Mammy and Polly. Yes, said the boy, I'll help you lift her, perhaps she won't wake up. The big dog moved away a step or two, but still kept his eye on Franzi. There, said the boy, brightly, as they laid the child on the wagon seat. Now, when you get in, you can hold her head, that's it, he added, seeing them both fixed to his satisfaction, but still Ben lingered. Thank you, he tried to say, I know, laughed the boy, only his prince instead of me, and he pulled forward the big black creature, who had followed faithfully down the hill to see the last of it. To the front, sir, there, we're coming to see you, he continued, if you will let us, where do you live? Do come, said Ben, lighting up, for he was just feeling he couldn't bear to look his last on the merry, honest face. Anybody will tell you where Mrs. Pepper lives. Is she a pepper? Asked the boy, laughing, and pointing to the unconscious little heap in the wagon. And are you a pepper? Yes, said Ben, laughing too. There are five of us besides mother. Jolly, that's something like. Goodbye, come on, prince. Then away home to mother, Franzi never woke up or turned over once till she was put a little pink sleepy heap into her mother's arms. Joel was there, crying bitterly at his forlorn search. The testy old gentleman in the seat opposite had relented and ordered the coach about and bought him home in an outburst of grief when all hope was gone. And one after another they all had come back, disheartened to the distracted mother. Polly alone clung to hope. Ben will bring her mommy. I know God will let him, she whispered. But when Ben did bring her, Polly, for the second time in her life, tumbled over with a gasp into old Mrs. Baskham's lap. Home and mother, little Franzi slept all that night straight through. The neighbours came in softly, and with all struck visages stole into the bedroom to look at the child. And as they crept out again, thoughts of their own little ones tugging at their hearts, the tears would drop unheeded. CHAPTER XII. NEW FRIENDS Up the stairs of the hotel, two steps at a time, ran a boy with a big black dog at his heels. Lawn prince saw now as they neared a door at the end of the corridors. It opened into a corner room overlooking the park, as the small open space in front of the hotel was called. Within the room there was sunshine and comfort, it being the most luxurious one in the house, which the proprietor had placed at the disposal of this most exacting guest. He didn't look very happy, however. The gentleman who sat in the easy chair by the window, a large, handsome old gentleman, whose whole bearing showed plainly that personal comfort had always been his, and was, therefore, neither a matter of surprise nor thankfulness. Where have you been? He asked, turning around to greet the boy who came in, followed by prince. Oh, such a long story, father! He cried, blushing, his eyes sparkling as he flung back the dark hair from his forehead. Even guess! Never mind now, said the old gentleman, testily. Your stories are always long. The paper hasn't come. Strange, indeed, that one must needs be so annoyed. Do ring the bell again. So the bell was pulled, and the porter popped in his head. What is it, sir? The paper, said the old gentleman, irritably. Hasn't it come yet? No, sir, said the man, and then he repeated, taint in yet, please, sir. Very well you said so once, that's all, waving his hand, then, as the door closed, he said to his son. That pays one for coming to such an out-of-the-way country place as this, away from papers, I will never do it again. As the old gentleman against the advice of many friends who knew his dependence on externals had determined to come to this very place, the boy was not much startled at the decisive words. He stood very quietly, however, until his father finished. Then he said, It's too bad, father, suppose I tell you my story, perhaps you'll enjoy hearing it while you wait. It's really quite newspaper-ish. Well, you might as well tell it now, I suppose, said the old gentleman. But it's a great shame about that paper to advertise that morning papers are to be obtained. It's a swindle, Jasper, a complete swindle. And the old gentleman looked so very irate that the boy exerted himself to soothe him. I know, he said, but they can't help the trains being late. They shouldn't have the trains late, said his father, unreasonably. There is no need for all this preying about trains late. I'm convinced it's because they forgot to send down for the papers till they were all sold. I don't believe that's it, father, said the boy, trying to change a subject. But you don't know how splendid Prince has been, nor. And then such a breakfast continued the old gentleman. My liver certainly will be in a dreadful state if these things continue. He got up and, going to the corner of the room, opened his medicine chest. And taking a box of pills there from, he swallowed the tube. Which done, he came back with a somewhat easier expression to his favorite chair. He was just splendid, father, began the boy. He went for him, I tell you. I hope, Jasper, your dog has not been doing anything violent, said the old gentleman. I must caution you, he'll get into trouble some day, and then there'll be a heavy bill to play. He grows more irritable every day. Irritable cried the boy flinging his arms around the dog's neck, who was looking up at the old gentleman in high disdain. He's done the most splendid thing you ever saw, why, he saved a little girl, father, from a cross-old organ man, and he drove that man, oh, you should have seen him run. And now that it was over, Jasper put back his head and laughed long and loud as he remembered the rapid transit of the musical pair. Well, how do you know she wasn't the man's daughter? Asked his father determined to find fault some way. You haven't any business to go around the country setting your dog on people. I shall have an awful bill to pay some day, Jasper, an awful bill. He continued getting up and commencing to pace up and down the floor in extreme irritation. Father cried the boy half laughing, half vex, springing to his side and keeping step with him. We found our brother, he came along when we were by the side of the road. He couldn't go any further, for the poor little thing was all tired out. And don't you think they live out over in Badger Town and, well, said the old gentleman, pausing his walk and taking out his watch to wonder if the paper would ever come? She had probably followed the organ man, so it served her right after all. Well, but Father, and the boy's dark eyes glowed, she was such a cunning little thing, she wasn't more than four years old, and she had such a pretty little yellow head, and she said so funny. I want Polly! Did she, said the old gentleman, getting interested in spite of himself. What then? Why, then, sir, said Jasper, delighted at his success in diverting his thoughts. Prince and I waited and waited, and I was just going to bring her here to ask what we should do when— Dear me, said the old gentleman, instinctively starting back, as if he actually saw the forlorn little damsel. You needn't ever bring such people here, Jasper. I don't know what to do with them, I'm sure. Well, said the boy, laughing. We didn't have to, did we, Prince? Stroking the big head of the dog, who was slowly following the two as they paced up and down, but keeping carefully on the side of his master. For just as we really didn't know what to do, don't you think there was a big wagon come along drawn by the rickiest old horse and a boy in the wagon, looking both sides of the road and into every bush, just as wild as he could be? And before I could think hardly, he spied us, and if he didn't jump, I thought he'd broken his leg. And I suppose he just abused you for what you had done, observed the old gentleman petulently. That's about all the gratitude there is in this world. He didn't seem to see me at all, said the boy. I thought he'd eat the little girl up. I ought to have looked out for her better than, grumbled the old gentleman, determined to find fault with somebody. Oh, he's a splendid fellow, I just know, cried Jasper, waxing enthusiastic, and his name is Pepper. Repeated his father. No nice family ever had the name of Pepper. Well, I don't care. And Jasper's laugh was loud at Mary. He's nice anyway. I know. A little thing's nice, and I'm going to see them. Can't I, Father? Dear me, said his father, how can you, Jasper? You have the strangest taste I've ever seen. It's dreadful dull here, pleaded the boy, touching the right string. You know that you're self-father, and I don't know any boys around here, and Prince and I are so lonely on our walks. Do permit me, Father. The old gentleman, who really cared very little about it, turned away muttering, well, I'm sure I don't care. Go where you like. When a knock was heard at the door, and the paper was handed in, which broke up the conversation and restored good humor. The next day, but one, Ben was out by the wood pile, trying to break up some kindlings for Polly, who was washing up the dishes, and otherwise preparing for the Delights of Baking Day. Hello, said a voice but thought he knew. He turned around to see the merry-faced boy, and the big black dog, who immediately began to wag his tail as if willing to recognize him. You see, I thought you'd never look around, said the boy with a laugh. How's the little girl? Oh, you have come, really, cried Ben, springing over the wood pile with a beaming face. Polly! The Polly was already by the door with the dishcloth in hand. This is my sister Polly, began Ben, and then stopped not knowing the boy's name. I'm Jasper King, said the boy, stepping upon the flat stone by Polly's side and taking off his cap he put out his hand. And this is Prince, he added. Polly put her hand in his and received a hearty shake, and then she sprang over the big stove, dishcloth and all, and just flung her arms around the dog's neck. Oh, you splendid fellow you, said she. Don't you know we all think you're as good as gold? The dog submitted to the astonishing procedure as if he liked it, while Jasper delighted with Polly's appreciation, beamed down on them and struck up a friendship with her on the instant. Now I must call Franzi, said Polly, getting up her face is red as a rose. Is her name Franzi, asked the boy with interest? No, it's Sophronia, said Polly, but we call her Franzi. What a very funny name, said Jasper. Sophronia is for such a little thing, and yours is Polly, is it, not? He asked, turning around suddenly on her. Yes, said Polly, no, not truly Polly, it's Mary, my real name is, but I've always been called Polly. I like Polly best, declared Jasper, it sounds so nice. And his name is Ben, said Polly. Ebenezer, you mean, said Ben, correcting her. Well, we call him Ben, said Polly. It don't ever seem unless if there was any Ebenezer about it. I should think not, laughed Jasper. Well, I must get Franzi, again, said Polly, running back into the bedroom where the small damsel was busily engaged in washing baby in the basin of water that she had with extreme difficulty succeeded in getting down on the floor. She had then, by means of a handful of soft soap taken from Polly's soap bowl during the dishwashing and a bit of old cotton plastered herself and baby to a comfortable degree of stickiness. Franzi, said Polly, dear me, what are you doing? The big dogs out there, you know, that scared the naughty organ man and the boy. But before the words were half out, Franzi had slipped out from under her hands into Polly's extreme dismay, clattered out into the kitchen. Here she is, cried Jasper, meeting her at the door. The little soapy hands were grasped and kissed. Ag, he said, as the soft soap, plentifully spread on her face, met his mouth. Oh, Franzi, you shouldn't, cried Polly. And they all burst out into a peel of laughter at Jasper's funny grimaces. She's been washing baby, explained Polly, wiping her eyes and looking at Franzi, who was hanging over Prince in extreme affection. Evidently, Prince still regarded her as his a special property. Have you got a baby? As Jasper, I thought she was the baby, pointing to Franzi. Oh, I mean her little listali. She always calls her baby, said Polly. Come, Franzi, and have your face washed and a clean apron on. When Franzi could be fairly persuaded that Prince would not run away during her absence, she allowed herself to be taken off and soon reappeared again, her own dainty little self. Ben, in the meantime, had been initiating Jasper into the mysteries of Cuddy Wood, the toolhouse and all the surroundings of the little brown house. They had received a reinforcement in the advent of Joel and David, who stared delightfully at Franzi's protector, made friends with the dog, and all together had such a thoroughly good time that Franzi, coming back, clapped her hands in glee to hear them. I wish Mami was home, said Polly, polishing up the last cup carefully. Let me put it up, said Jasper, taking it from her. It goes up here, donut with the rest, reaching up to the upper shelf of the old cupboard. Yes, said Polly. Oh, I should think you have really good times, said the boy, enviously. I haven't a single brother or sister. Haven't you, said Polly, looking at him with extreme pity? Yes, we do have real fun, she added, answering his questioning look. The house is just brimful sometimes, even if we are poor. We aren't poor, said Joel, who could never bear to be pity. Then, with a very proud air, he said in a grand way, at any rate, we aren't going to be long for some things coming. What do you mean, Joey? asked Ben, while the rest look equally amazed. Our ship, said Joel confidently, as if they were right before their eyes, at which they all screamed. See, Polly stove, cried Franzi, wishing to entertain in her turn. Here it is running up to it and pointing with her fat little finger. Yes, I see it, cried Jasper, pretending to be greatly surprised. It's new, isn't it? Yes, said the child. It's very all new, four yesterdays ago. And then Polly stopped in sweeping and related with many additions and explanations from the others, the history of the stove, and good Dr. Fisher, upon whom they all dilated at great length, and the dreadful measles and everything. And Jasper sympathized and rejoiced with them to their heart's content and altogether got so very home-like that they all felt as if they had known him for a year. Ben neglected his work a little, but when visitors didn't come every day to the peppers, so while Polly worked away at her bread, which she was going to make like biscuits, she said, the audience gathered in the little kitchen, was in the merriest mood and enjoyed everything to the fullest extent. Dupit in another stick, Benzie, dear, said Polly, this bread won't be fit for nothing. Isn't this fun, though? Cried Jasper running up to try the oven. I wish I could bake. And he looked longingly at the little brown biscuits waiting their turn out on the table. You come out some day, said Polly, so shall be. And we'll all try baking. Mammy'd like to have you, I know. Feeling sure that nothing would be too much for Mrs. Pepper to do for the protector of little Franzie. I will, cried Jasper, perfectly delighted. You can't think how awfully dull it is out in Hingham. Don't you live there? Asked Polly with a gasp, almost dropping a tin full of little brown lumps of dough she was carrying to the oven. Live there, cried Jasper, and then he burst out Mary left. No, indeed I hope not. We're only spending the summer there, father and I, in the hotel. Where's your mother, asked Joel, squeezing in between Jasper and his audience? And then they all felt instinctively that a very wrong question had been asked. I haven't any mother, said the boy, in a low voice. They all stood quite still for a moment. Then Polly said, I wish you'd come out sometime. You may bake or anything else, she added. And there was a kinder ring to her voice than ever. No mother, Polly for her life, couldn't imagine how anybody could feel without a mother. But the very words alone smote her heart. And there was nothing she wouldn't have done to give pleasure to one who had done so much for them. I wish you could see our mother, she said gently. Why, here she comes now. Oh, manzy dear, she cried. Do, Joe, run and take her bundle. Mrs. Pepper stopped a minute to kiss Fronze. Her baby was dearer to her ever than now. Then I fell on Jasper, who stood respectfully waiting and watching her with great interest. Is this, she asked, taking it all in at the first glance, the boy with the honest eyes, as Ben had described him. And the big black dog, is this the boy who saved my little girl? Oh, ma'am, cried Jasper. I didn't do much, twas Prince. I guess you'll never know how much you did do. Us, said Mrs. Pepper. Then looking with long keen gaze into the boy's eyes and met her own, so frankly and kindly. I'll trust him, she said to herself. A boy with those eyes can't help but be good. Her eyes are just the same as Polly's, thought Jasper. Just such laughing ones. Only Polly's are brown, and he liked her on the spot. And then somehow the hubbub seized. Polly went on with her work and the other separated and Mrs. Pepper and Jasper had a long talk. When the mother's eyes fell on Fronze's, playing around on the floor, she gave the boy a grateful smile that he thought was beautiful. Well, I declare, said Jasper at last, looking up at the old clock, in the corner by the side of the cupboard. I'm afraid I'll miss the stage, and then father'll never let me come again. Come, Prince. Oh, don't go, cried Fronze, wailing. Let the doggies stay. Oh, make him stay, mammy. I can't, Fronze, said Mrs. Pepper. Smiling, if he thinks he ought to go. I'll come again, said Jasper eagerly. If I may, ma'am. He looked up at Mrs. Pepper as he stood cap in hand, waiting for an answer. I'm sure we would all be glad if your father all be willing, she added, thinking proudly. My children are an honor to anybody, I'm sure, as she glanced around on the bright little group she could call her own. But be sure, Jasper, and she laid her hand on his arm as she looked down into his eyes, that your father is willing, that's all. Oh, yes, said the boy, but he will be, I guess, if he feels well. Then come on Thursday, said Polly, and can't we bake something, then, mammy? I'm sure I don't care, laughed Mrs. Pepper, but you won't find much but brown flour and meal to bake with. Well, we can pretend, said Polly, and we can cut cakes with the heart shape, and they'll do for anything. Oh, I'll come, laughed Jasper, ready for such lovely fun in the old kitchen. Look out for me on Thursday, Ben. So Jasper and Prince took their leave, all the children accompanying them to the gate, and then, after seeing him fairly start on a smart run to catch the stage, Prince scampered at his heels. They all began to sing his praises and wished for Thursday to come. But Jasper didn't come. Thursday came and went, a beautiful bright sunny day, but with no signs of the merry boy whom all had begun to love, nor of the big black dog. The children had made all the needful preparations with much ostentation and bustle, and were in a state of excited happiness ready for any gale. But the last hope had to be given up as the old clock ticked away, hour after hour, and the last Polly had to put Franzi to bed, who wouldn't stop crying enough to eat her supper at the dreadful disappointment. He couldn't come, I know, said both Ben and Polly standing staunchly up for their new friend, but Joel and David felt that he had broken his word. He promised, said Joel vindictively. I don't believe his father'd let him, said Polly, wiping away a slight tear. I know Jasper'd come, if he could. Mrs. Pepper wisely kept her own counsel, simply giving them a kindly caution. Don't you go judging them children till you know. Well, he promised, said Joel, as a subtler. Aren't you ashamed, Joel, said his mother? To talk about anyone who's back his turn, wait till he tells you the reason himself. Joel hung his head and then began to tease David in the corner to make up for his disappointment. The next morning, Ben had to go to the store after some more meal. As he was going out, rather dismally, the storekeeper, who was also a postmaster, cried out, oh, hello there. What is it, asked Ben, turning back, thinking perhaps Mr. Atkins hadn't given him the right change. Here, said Mr. Atkins, stepping up to the post office department, quite smart with its array of boxes and official notices, where Ben had always lingered, wishing that there might be some letter for him or some of them. You've got a sister, Polly, haven't you? Yes, said Ben, wondering what was coming next. Well, she's got a letter, said the postmaster, holding up a nice big envelope, looking just like those that Ben had many times wished for. That magic piece of white paper danced before the boy's eyes for a moment. Then he said, can't be for her, Mr. Atkins, why she's never had one. Well, she sure got one now, sure enough, said Mr. Atkins. Here, Tis, plain enough, and he read what he had no need to study much as he had already passed his examination by his own and his wife's faithful eyes. Miss Polly Pepper near the Turnpike Badger town, that's her, isn't it? He had it laying it down before Ben's eyes. Must be the first time for everything, you know, my boy, and he laughed long over his own joke. So take it and run along home, for Ben still stood looking at it and not offering to stir. If you say so, said the boy, as if Mr. Atkins had given him something out of his own pocket. But I'm afraid Tis isn't for Polly. Then, buttoning up the precious letter in his jacket, he spun along home, as never before. Polly, Polly, he screamed. Where is she, mother? I don't know, said Mrs. Pepper, coming out of the bedroom. Do you hear me? Has anybody heard, Ben? I don't know, said Ben, in a state to believe anything, but Polly's got a letter. Polly's got a letter? cried Mrs. Pepper. What do you mean, Ben? I don't know, repeated the boy, still holding out the precious letter. But Mr. Atkins gave it to me. Where is Polly? I know where she is, said Joel. She's upstairs. And he flew out in twinkling and just as soon reappeared with Polly, scampering after him in wildest excitement. And then the kitchen was in an uproar, as the precious missive was put into Polly's hand. And they all gathered around her, wondering and examining, till Ben thought he would go wild with the delay. I wonder where it came from, said Polly, in the greatest anxiety examining again the address. Where does the postmark say? asked Mrs. Pepper, looking over her shoulder. It's all rubbed out, said Polly, peering at it. You can't see anything. Do open it, said Ben, and then you'll find out. But perhaps it isn't for me, said Polly timidly. Well, Mr. Atkins says to his, said Ben impatiently. Here, I'll open it for you, Polly. No, let her open it for herself, Ben, protested as mother. But she won't, said Ben. Do tear it open, Polly. No, I'm gonna get a knife, she said. I'll get one, cried Joel, running up to the table door. Here's one, Polly. Oh dear, grown Ben, you'll never get it open at this rate. But at last it was cut and they all holding their breath, gazed, awestruck, while Polly drew out the mysterious missive. What does it say, gassed Mrs. Pepper? Dear Miss Polly began both Ben and Polly in breath. Let Polly read, said Joel, who couldn't hear in the confusion. Well, go on, Polly, said Ben, hurry. Dear Miss Polly, I was so sorry I couldn't come on Thursday. Oh, it's Jasper, it's Jasper, cried all the children in a bath. I told you so, cried Ben and Polly, perfectly delighted to find their friend vindicated fully. There, Joey, Pepper. Well, I don't care, cried Joe. Nothing daunted, he didn't come anyway. Do go on, Polly. I was so sorry I couldn't come, began Polly. You read that, said Joel. I know it, said Polly, but it's just lovely, on Thursday, but my father was sick and I couldn't leave him. If you don't mind, I'll come again. I mean, I'll come some other day if it's just as convenient for you. For I do so want to do the baking and the nice time. I forgot to say that I had a cold, too. Here Jasper definitely had to struggle in his mind whether there should be two O's or one. And he at last decided on it by crossing out one. But my father is willing, I should come when I am well. Give my love to all and especially, remember me respectfully to your mother, your friend, Jasper Elliott King. Oh, lovely, lovely, cried Polly, flying around with the letter in her hand. He's coming. Ben was just as wild as she was for no one knew but Polly just how the new friend had stepped into his heart. Franzi went to sleep happy, hugging baby. And don't you think, baby dear? She whispered sleepily and Polly heard her say it as she was tucking her in. The Jasper's really coming, really. And the big, beautiful doggy, too. End of chapter, recorded by BJ. Chapter 13 of Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recorded by BJ. Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 13. Franzi pays a debt of gratitude. And now I tell you, said Polly the next day, let's make Jasper something, can't we, Ma? Oh, do, do, cried all the other children. Let's, but what'll it be, Polly? I don't know anything about this interrupted, Mrs. Pepper. I don't see how you could get anything to him if you could make it. Oh, we could, Mamzie, said Polly, eagerly running up tour. For Ben knows, and he says we can do it. Oh, well, if Ben and you have your heads together, I suppose it's all right, laughed Mrs. Pepper, but I don't see how you can do it. Well, we can, mother, truly, put in Ben. I'll tell you how, and you'll say it'll be splendid. You see, Deacon Blodgett's going over to Hingham tomorrow. I heard him tell Mrs. Blodgett so. And he goes right past the hotel, and we can do it up real nice, and we'll, please, Jasper, so, do, Mamie. And it's real dull there, Jasper says, put in Polly persuasively. And just think, Mamie, no brothers and sisters. And Polly looked around on the others. After that, there was no need to say anything more. Her mother would have consented to almost any plan, then. Well, go on, children, she said. You may do it. I don't see but what you can get them there well enough. But I'm sure I don't know what you can make. Can't we, said Polly, and she knelt down by her mother's side and put her face in between the sewing and Mrs. Pepper's lap, and the eyes bent kindly down on her. Make some little cakes, real cakes, I mean. Now don't say no, Mamie, she said alarmed, for she saw a no slowly coming in the eyes above her as Mrs. Pepper began to shake her head. But we haven't any white flour, Polly, began her mother. I know, said Polly, but we'll make them out of brown. It'll do, if you'll give us some reasons. You know there's some in the bowl, Mamie. I was saving them for a nest egg, said Mrs. Pepper, meaning at some future time to indulge in another plum pudding that the children so loved. We'll do give them to us, cried Polly, do ma. I want them for a plum pudding, sometimes, said Mrs. Pepper. Ow, and Joel with a house brung up from the floor where he had been trying to make a cart for baby out of an old box and joined Mrs. Pepper and Polly. No, don't give him away, ma, he screamed. Let's have our plum pudding now. Polly, Pepper, you're gonna bake up our raisins and nasty little cakes, and Joey, commanded Mrs. Pepper. Hush, what word did you say? Well, blubbered Joel, wiping his tears away with his grimy little hand. Polly's are gonna give. I would rather you had never had plum pudding than to say such words, said Mrs. Pepper sternly, taking up her work again. And besides, do you think that what Jasper has done for you and her face grew very white around the lips? Well, he can have plum pudding, said Joel, whimpering forever and ever if he wants them. And, well, Joey, said Polly there, don't feel bad. And she put her arms around him and tried to wipe away the tears that still roll down his cheeks. We won't give him him if you don't want us to. But Jasper's sick and there isn't anything for him to do. And here she whispered slightly up into his ear. Don't you remember how you liked folks to send you things when you had the measles? Yes, I know, said Joel, beginning to smile through his tears. Wasn't it fun, Polly? I guess it was, laughed Polly back again, pleased at the return of the sunshine. Well, Jasper'll be just as pleased as you were, because we love him and want to do something for him. He was so good to fronze. I will, Polly, I will, cried Joel, completely won over. Do let's make something for him and put him in thick, oh, thick as you can, and determined to do nothing by halves. Joel ran generously for the precious bowl of raisins. And after setting it on the table began to help Polly in all needful preparations. Mrs. Pepper smiled away to herself to see happiness restored to the little group. And soon a pleasant hum and bustle went around the backing table, the center of attention. Now, said Fronze, coming up to the table and standing on tiptoe to see Polly measure out the floor, I'm gonna bake something for my sick man I am. Oh, no, Fronze, you can't, began Polly. Hey, asked Joel with the daub of flour on the tip of his chubby nose, gained by too much peering into Polly's flower bag. What did she say, Polly? Watching her shake the clouds of flour in the sieve. She said she was gonna bake something for Jasper, said Polly. There, as she whisked in the flour. Now, that's done. No, I didn't say Jasper, said Fronze. I didn't say Jasper, she repeated evadically. Why, what did you say, Pet? Asked Polly astonished while little Davey repeated. What did you say, Fronze? I said my sick man, said Fronze, shaking her yellow head, poor sick man. Who does she mean, said Polly, in despair, stopping a moment of her violence during the threat to overturn the whole cake bowl? I guess she means Prince, said Joel. Can't I stir a Polly? Oh, no, said Polly, only one person must stir a cake. Why, asked Joel, why Polly? Oh, I don't know, said Polly, cause to so. Never mind now, Joel, do you mean Prince, Fronze? No, I don't mean Prince, he said the child decisively. I mean my sick man. It's Jasper's father, I guess she means, said Mrs. Pepper over in the corner. But what in the world? Yes, yes, said Fronze, perfectly delighted at being at last understood and hopping on one toe, my sick man. I shall give up, said Polly, tumbling over in a chair with the cake spoon in her hand, from which a small sticky lump fell on her apron. Which Joel immediately pounced upon and devoured. What do you want to bake, Fronze? She gasped, holding the spoon, sticking up straight and staring at the child. A gingerbread boy, said child, promptly. He'd like that best, poor sick man. And she commenced to climb up to active preparations. End of chapter, recorded by BJ. Chapter 14 of Five Little Peppers and How They Grew. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Angela. Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 14. A Letter to Jasper. Ma'am, see, what shall we do? implored Polly of her mother. I don't know, said her mother. However, did that get into her head, do you suppose? I am sure I can't tell, said Polly, jumping up and beginning to stir briskly to make up for lost time. Perhaps she heard us talking about Jasper's having to take care of his sick father, and how hard it must be to be sick away from home. Yes, said Fronzie, but he'll be glad to see my gingerbread boy, I guess, poor sick man. Oh, Fronzie, cried Polly in great distress. You aren't ever going to make a gingerbread boy today. See, we'll put in a cunning little cake for Mr. King. Full of raisins, Fronzie, won't that be lovely? And Polly began to fill a little scalloped tin with some of the cake mixture. No, said the child, dying it suspiciously. That isn't like a gingerbread boy, Polly. He'll like that best. Ramsay, said Polly, we can't let her make a dreadful, horrid gingerbread boy to send Mr. King. He'll never let Jasper come here again. Oh, letter, cried Joel. She can bake it, and Dave and I'll eat it. And he picked up a raisin that had fallen under the table and began crunching it with great gusto. That wouldn't be fair, said Polly gloomily. Do get her off from it, Mammy. Fronzie, said Mrs. Pepper, going up back of the child, who sat patiently in her high chair, waiting for Polly to let her begin. Hadn't you rather wait and give your gingerbread boy to Jasper for his father when he comes? Oh, no, no, no! cried Fronzie, twisting in her chair in great apprehension. I want to send it now, I do! Well, Polly, said her mother, laughing. After all, it's best, I think, to let her. It can't do any harm anyway. And instead of Mr. King's not letting Jasper come, if he's a sensible man, that won't make any difference. And if he isn't, why? Then there'd be sure to something come up some time to make trouble. Well, said Polly, I suppose she's got to, and perhaps, as a consoling idea struck her, perhaps she'll want to eat it up herself when it's done. Here, Fronzie, giving her a handful of the cake mixture, which she's stiffened with flour to the right thickness. There, you can call that a gingerbread boy. See, won't it make a beautiful one? You needn't think, said Mrs. Pepper, seeing Fronzie's delighted face and laughing as she went back to her work. But what that gingerbread boy'll go. When the little cakes were done, eight of them, and set upon the table for exhibition, they won and all protested that they never saw so fine a lot. Polly was delighted with the praise they received in her mother's commendation that she was growing a better cook every day. How glad Jasper'll be, won't he, Mamzie? said she. The children walked around and around the table, admiring and pointing out the chief points of attraction, as they appeared before their discriminating eyes. I should choose that one, said Joel, pointing at one which was particularly plummy, with a raisin standing up on one end with a festive air, as if to say, there's lots of us inside, you'd better believe. I wouldn't, said Davy, I'd have that. That's cracked so pretty. So, Tiz, said Mrs. Pepper, they're all as light as a feather, Polly. But my gingerbread boy, cried Franzi, running eagerly along with a particularly ugly-looking specimen of a cake figure in her hand, is the beautifulest, isn't it, Polly? Oh, dear, grown Polly, it looks just awfully, don't it, Ben? Oh, laughed Joel in derision. His leg is crooked, see, Franzi, you better let Davy and me have it. No, no, screamed the child in terror. That's my sick man's gingerbread boy, it is. Joel, put it down, said Ben. Yes, Franzi, you shall have it. There, it's all safe. And he put it carefully into Franzi's apron when she breathed easier. And he hasn't, but one eye. Still laughed Joel while little Davy giggled too. He did have two, said Polly, but she punched the other end with her thumb. Don't, boys, she said aside, you'll make her feel bad, do stop laughing. Now, how will we send the things? Put them in a basket, said Ben, that's nicest. But we haven't got any baskets, said Polly, except the potato basket, and they'd be lost in that. Can't we take your work, basket, Mamsi? Asked Ben, they look so nice in that. Oh, said Mrs. Pepper, that wouldn't do, I couldn't spare it. And besides, it's all broken at the side, Ben, that don't look nice. Oh dear, said Polly, sitting down on one of the hardwooden chairs to think. I do wish we had things nice to send to sick people. And her forehead puckered up in a little hard knot. We'll have to do them up in a paper, Polly, said Ben, there isn't any other way. They'll look nice in anything, because they are nice, he added, comfortingly. If we only had some flowers, said Polly, that would set them off. You're always a thinkin' of flowers, Polly, said Ben. I guess the cakes'll have to go without them. I suppose they will, said Polly, stifling a little sigh. Where's the paper? I've got a nice piece upstairs, said Ben, just right, I'll get it. Put my gingerbread boy on top, cried Fonsi, handing him up. So Polly packed the little cakes neatly in two rows and laid the gingerbread boy in a fascinating attitude across the top. He looks as if he'd been struck by lightning, said Ben, viewing him critically as he came in the door with the paper. Be still, said Polly, trying not to laugh. That's because he baked so funny it made his feet stick out. Children, said Mrs. Pepper, how'll Jasper know where the cakes come from? Why, he'll know it's us, said Polly, of course, because it'll make him think of the baking we're going to have when he gets well. Well, but you don't say so, said Mrs. Pepper, smiling, tisn't polite to send it this way. Whatever we do, Mammy, said all four children in dismay while Fonsi simply stared. Can't we send them at all? Why, yes, said their mother. I hope so, I'm sure, after you've got them baked. But you might answer Jasper's letter, I should think, and tell him about him and the gingerbread boy. Oh, dear, said Polly, ready to fly. I couldn't, Mamsy. I never wrote a letter. Well, you never had one before, did you? Said her mother, composedly biting her thread. Never say you can't, Polly, because you don't know what you can do till you've tried. You right, Ben, said Polly imploringly. No, said Ben. I think the nicest way is for all to say something, then won't be hard for any of us. Where's the paper, queried Polly, coming from my wonder? Joel, said Mrs. Pepper, run to the bureau and the bedroom and open the top drawer and get a green box there. So Joel, quite important that the errand departed and presently put the designated box into his mother's hand. There, now I'm going to give you this. And she took out a small sheet of paper, slightly yellowed by age, but being guilt-edged, it looked very magnificent to the five pairs of eyes directed to it. Now, Ben, you get the ink bottle on the pen and then go to work. So Ben reached down from the upper shelf in the cupboard the ink bottle and a pen and a black wooden pen holder. Oh, Nancy, cried Polly. That's where Franzi bit it off when she was a baby, isn't it? Holding up the stubby end where the little ball had disappeared. Yes, said Mrs. Pepper. And now you're going to write about her gingerbread boy with it. Well, time goes to be sure. And she bent over her work again harder than ever. Poor woman. If she could only scrape together enough money to get her children into school, that was the earnest wish of her heart. She must do it soon, for Ben was twelve years old. But with all her strivings and scrimpings she could only manage to put bread into their mouths and live from day to day. I know I ought to be thankful for that, she said to herself, not taking time even to cry over her troubles. But oh, the learning, they must have that. Now, said Polly, how will we do it, Ben? As they ranged themselves around the table, on which repose the cakes, you begin. How do folks begin a letter? Ask Ben and despair of his mother. How did Jasper begin his? Ask Mrs. Pepper back again. Oh, cried Polly running into the bedroom to get the precious missive. Dear Miss Polly, that's what it says. Well, said Mrs. Pepper, then you'd better say, Dear Mr. Jasper, or you might say, Dear Mr. King. Oh dear, cried Polly, that would be the father then. Suppose he should think we wrote to him. And Polly looked horror-stricken to the last degree. There, there it is, said Ben. Dear Mr. Jasper, now, what do we say? We say about the cakes, replied Polly. And the gingerbread boy, cried Fonzie. Oh, tell about him, Polly, do. Yes, yes, Fonzie, said Polly, we will. Why, tell him how we wish he could have come, and that we baked him some cakes, and that we do so want him to come just as soon as he can. All right, said Ben, so we went to work laboriously, only his hard breathing showing what a hard task it was as the stiff old pen scratched up and down the paper. There, that's done. He cried at length and great satisfaction, holding it up for inspection. Oh, I do wish, cried Polly in intense admiration. I could write so nice and so fast as you can, Ben. Read it, Polly, said Mrs. Pepper in pride. So Polly began, dear Mr. Jasper, we were all dreadfully sorry that you didn't come, and so we baked you some cakes. You didn't say anything about us being sick, Ben. I forgot it, said Ben, but I put it in farther down. You'll see if you read on. Baked you some cakes, that is, Polly did, for this is Ben that's writing. You needn't said that, Ben, said Polly dissatisfied. We all baked them, I'm sure. And just as soon as you get well, we do want you to come over and have the baking. We're real sorry you're sick. Boneset's good for colds. Oh, Ben, said Mrs. Pepper, I guess his father knows what to give him. And all the bitter stuff, cried Polly with a rye face. Well, it's hard work to write, said Ben yawning. I'd rather chop wood. I wish I knew how, exclaimed Joe longingly. Just you try every day, Ben'll teach you, Joe, said his mother eagerly, and then I'll let you write. I will, cried Joe. Then Dave, you'll see how I'll write, I'll tell you. And I'm going to ma, can't I? Said Davey, unwilling to be outdone. Yes, you may, to be sure, said Mrs. Pepper, delighted. That'll make a man of you fast. Oh, boys, said Polly, lifting a very red face. You joggle the table so I can't do anything. I wasn't joggling, said Joel, the old thing tipped. Look, he whispered to Davey, see Polly, she's writing crooked. So while the others hung around her and looked over her shoulder while they made their various comments, Polly finished her part and also held it up for inspection. Let us see, said Ben, taking it up. It's after, bone sets good for colds, said Polly, puckering up her face again at the thought. We most of us knew you were sick. I'm Polly now, because you didn't come. And we liked your letter telling us so, oh, Polly, we weren't glad to hear he was sick, cried Ben in horror. I didn't say so, cried Polly, starting up. Why, Ben Pepper, I never said so. And she looked ready to cry. Sounds something like it, don't it, Mammy? Said Ben, unwilling to give her pain but appealing to Mrs. Pepper. Polly didn't mean it, said her mother consolingly. But if I were you, I'd say something to explain it. I can't put anything in now, said poor Polly. There isn't any room, nor any more paper either. What shall I do? I told you, Ben, I couldn't write. And Polly looked helplessly from one to the other for comfort. Yes, you can, said Ben. There, now I'll show you, write it fine, Polly. You write so big, little bits of letters like these. So Polly took the pen again with a sigh. Now he won't think so, I guess, she said, much relieved as Ben began to read again. I'll begin yours again, Ben said. We most of us knew you were sick because you didn't come. And we liked your letter telling us so because we'd all felt so badly and Fronzie cried herself to sleep. That's good, I'm sure. The gingerbread boy is for your father. Please excuse it, but Fronzie wouldn't make it for him because he's sick. There isn't any more to write. And besides, I can't write good. And Ben's tired, from all of us. Well, how's he to know, cried Ben? That won't do to sign it. Well, let's say from Ben and Polly, then, said Polly, only all the others want to be in the letter. Well, they can't write, said Ben. We might sign their names for them, suggested Polly. Here's mine, said Ben, putting under the, from all of us, a big, bold Ben. And here's mine, echoed Polly, setting a slightly crooked Polly by its side. Now, Joe, you had better let Ben hold your hand, said Polly, warningly. But Joel, declaring he could write, had already begun, so there was no hope for it. And a big drop of ink falling from the pen, he spattered the J so that no one could tell what it was. The children looked at each other in despair. Can we ever get it out, Mammy? Said Polly, running to Mrs. Pepper with it. I don't know, said her mother. How could you try it, Joe? I didn't mean to, said Joel, looking very downcast and ashamed. The ugly old pen did it. Well, said Polly, it's got to go. We can't help it. But she looked so sorrowful over it that half the pleasure was gone for Ben, for Polly wanted everything just right and was very particular about things. Now, Dave, Ben held his hand and David went down next to Joel. But when it was Franzi's turn, she protested that Polly and no one else must hold her hand. It's a dreadful, hard name to write, Franzi is, said Polly, as she guided Franzi's fat little hand that clung faithfully to the stubby old pen. There, it's over now, she cried, and I'm thankful. I wouldn't write another for anything. Read it all over now, Ben, cried Mrs. Pepper, and don't speak, children, till he gets through. Don't it sound elegant, said Polly, clasping her hands when he had finished. I didn't think we ever could do it so nice, did you, Ben? No, indeed I didn't, replied Ben in a highly ecstatic frame of mind. Now, oh, what'll we do for an envelope? He asked in dismay. You'll have to do without that, said Mrs. Pepper, for there isn't any in the house. But see here, children, she added as she saw the sorry faces before her. You just fold up the letter and put it inside the parcel. That'll be just as good. Oh, dear, said Polly, but it would have been splendid the other way, Mammy, just like other folks. You must make believe this is like other folks, said Mrs. Pepper cheerily, when you can't do any other way. Yes, said Ben, that's so Polly. Tie him up quick as you can, and I'll take him over to Deacon Blodgett's, for he's going to start early in the morning. So after another last look all around, Polly put the cakes in the paper and tied it with four or five strong knots to avoid all danger of its undoing. He'll never untie it, Polly, said Ben. That's just like a girl's knots. Why didn't you tie it then, said Polly? I'm sure it's as good as a boy's knots, and they always must up a parcel so. And she gave a loving, improving little pat to the top of the package, which, despite its multitude of knots, was certainly very neat indeed. Well, said Ben, grasping the pen again, here goes for the direction. Dear, yes, said Polly, I forgot all about that I thought was done. How'd you suppose he'd get it? asked Ben, coolly beginning the M. I don't know, replied Polly, looking over his shoulder. I suppose anybody else had eaten them up, Ben, and she turned pale at the very thought. There, said Ben at last, after a good many flourishes, now it is done. You can't think of another thing to do to it, Polly. Ma'am, do you see? cried Polly, running with it to Mrs. Pepper. Isn't that fine? Mr. Jasper E. King at the Hotel Hingham. Yes, said Mrs. Pepper admiringly to the content of all the children. I should think it was. Let me take it in my hand, screamed Joel, reaching eagerly up for the tempting brown parcel. Be careful then, Joe, said Polly with an important air. So Joel took a comfortable feel, and then Davy must have the same privilege. At last it was off, and with intense satisfaction the children watched Ben disappear with it, down the long hill to Deacon Blodgets. The next day Ben came running in from his work at the Deacons. Oh Polly, you had him! he screamed all out of breath. You had him! At what? asked Polly in astonishment. Oh, Benzie, what do you mean? Your flowers, he panted, you sent some flowers to Jasper. repeated Polly, afraid Ben had gone out of his wits. Yes, said Ben, I'll begin at the beginning. You see Polly, when I went down this morning Betsy was to set me to work. Deacon Blodget and Mrs. Blodget had started early, you know, and while I was cleaning up the woodshed, as she told me, all of a sudden she said, as she stood in the door looking on, Oh Ben, Miss Blodget took some posies along with your parcel. What I said I didn't know as I'd heard straight. Posies I said, says Betsy, beautiful ones they were too, the best in the guarding. I heard her tell Mr. Blodget it would be a pity if that sick boy couldn't have some flowers, and she knew the pepper children were crazy about him, so she twisted him in the string around the parcel, and there they stood up and looked fine, I tell you, as they drove away. So Polly! Benzie, pepper, cried Polly, taking hold of his jacket and spinning him round. I told you so, I told you so. I know you did, said Ben, as she gave him a parting whirl, and I wish she'd say so about other things, Polly, if you can get him so easy. CHAPTER 15 Jolly Days Oh Ben! cried Jasper, overtaking him by a smart run as he was turning in at the little brown gate one morning three days after. Do wait! Hello! cried Ben, turning around and setting down his load, a bag of salt and a basket of potatoes, and viewing Jasper in prints with great satisfaction. Yes, here I am, said Jasper, and how I've run! That fellow on the stage was awful slow in getting here. Oh, you're so good, he said, and his eyes brimful of gladness beamed on Ben. The cakes were just prime, and it was great fun to get your letter. Did you like it, asked Ben, the color up all over his brown face. Like it! cried Jasper, which was just splendid, and the cakes were royal. Isn't Polly smart, though, to bake like that? he added admiringly. I guess she is, said Ben, drawing himself up to his very tallest dimensions. She knows how to do everything, Jasper King. I should think she did, responded the boy quickly. I wish she was my sister, he finished longingly. Well, I don't, quickly replied Ben, for then she wouldn't be mine, and I couldn't think of being without Polly. Was your father angry about the gingerbread boy? He asked timidly, trembling for an answer. Oh, dear! cried Jasper, tumbling over on the grass. Don't, don't! I shan't be good for anything if you make me laugh. Oh, wasn't it funny? And he rolled over and over, shaking with glee. Yes, said Ben, immensely relieved to find that no offense had been taken. But she would send it. Polly tried not to have her, and she most cried when Fronzie was so determined, because she said your father'd never let you come again. It was just lovely in Fronzie, said the boy, sitting up and wiping his eyes. But, oh, it was so funny! You ought to have seen my father, Ben Pepper. Oh, then he was angry, cried Ben. No, indeed he wasn't, said Jasper. Don't you think it? Do you know it did him lots of good, for he'd been feeling real badly that morning. He hadn't eaten any breakfast. And when he saw that gingerbread boy, here Jasper rolled over again with a peel of laughter. And heard the message, he just put back his head and he laughed. And I never heard him laugh, as he did then. The room shook all over. And he ate a big dinner, and all that afternoon he felt as good as could be. But he says he's coming to see the little girl that baked it for him before we go home. Ben nearly tumbled over by the side of Jasper at these words. Coming to see us, he gasped. Yes, said Jasper, who had scarcely got over his own astonishment about it. For if the roof had suddenly whisked off onto the church steeple, he couldn't have been more amazed than when he heard his father say cheerily, well, Jasper, my boy, I guess I shall have to drive over and see your little girl, since she's been polite enough to bake me this, pointing to the wild-looking gingerbread boy. Come in and tell him about it, cried Ben, radiantly, picking up his potatoes and salt. It's all right, Polly, he said in a jubilant voice, for here's Jasper, and he'll tell you so himself. Hush, said Jasper, warningly, don't let Franzi hear. Well, here's my pet now. And after bobbing lovingly to the others, with eyes beaming over with fun, he caught up the little girl who was screaming, oh, here's Jasper and my beautiful doggie. Now, Franzi, he cried, give me a kiss. You haven't any soft soap today, have you? No, that's a good nice one now. Your gingerbread boy was just splendid. Did he eat it? asked the child in grave delight. Well, no, he hasn't eaten it yet, said Jasper, smiling on the others. He's keeping it to look at, Franzi. I should think so, groaned Polly. Never mind Polly, Ben whispered. Jasper's been telling me about it. His father liked it, he did, truly. Oh, said Polly, I'm so glad. He had eyes, said Franzi, going back to the charms of the gingerbread boy. I know it, said Jasper, admiringly, so he did. Rather deep sunk, one of them was, muttered Ben. And I'll bake you one, Jasper, said the child, as he put her down. I will, very truly, someday. Will you, smiled Jasper, well then. And there was a whispered conference with Franzi that somehow sent that damsel into a blissful state of delight. And then, while Franzi monopolized Prince, Jasper told them all about the reception of the parcel, how very dull and forlorn he was feeling that morning, Prince and he shut up indoors, and how his father had had a miserable night and had eaten scarcely no breakfast, and just at this juncture there came a knock at the door and, said Jasper, your parcel walked in, all dressed up in flowers. They weren't our flowers, said Polly honestly. Mrs. Blodgett put them on. Well, she couldn't have, if you hadn't sent the parcel, said Jasper, in a tone of conviction. Then he launched out into a description of how they opened the package, Prince looking on and begging for one of the cakes. Oh, didn't you give him one? cried Polly at this. Good old Prince. Yes, I did, said Jasper, the biggest one of all. The one, I guess, interrupted Joel with the big raisin on top. Polly spoke up quickly to save any more remarks on Joel's part. Now tell us about your father and the gingerbread boy. So Jasper broke out with a merry laugh into this part of the story and soon had them all in such a gale of merriment that Franzi stopped playing out on the doorstep with Prince and came in to see what the matter was. Never mind, said Polly, trying to get her breath. Just as Jasper was relating how Mr. King set up the gingerbread boy on his writing table before him while he leaned back in his chair for a hearty laugh. And to make it funny or still, said Jasper, don't you think a little pen wiper he has made like a cap hanging on the pen rack above him tumbled off just at this very identical minute right on the head of the gingerbread boy and there it stuck. Oh, they all screamed if we could only have seen it. What was it, asked Franzi, pulling Polly's sleeve to make her here. So Jasper took her in his lap and told how funny the gingerbread boy looked with a cap on and Franzi clapped her hands and laughed with the rest till the little old kitchen rang and rang again. And then they had the baking. And Polly tied one of her mother's ample aprons on Jasper as Mrs. Pepper had left directions if he should come while she was away and he developed such a taste for cookery and had so many splendid improvements on the Pepper's simple ideas that the children thought it the most fortunate thing in the world that he came and one and all voted him a most charming companion. You could cook a Thanksgiving dinner in the stove just as easy as not, said Jasper, putting into the oven something on a little cracked plate that would have been a pie if there were any center but lacking that necessary accompaniment probably was a shortcake. Just as easy as not, he repeated with emphasis, slamming the door to give point to his remarks. No, you couldn't either, said Ben at the table with equal decision, not a bit of it, Jasper King. Why, Ben Pepper, asked Jasper, that oven's big enough. I should like to know why not. Cause there isn't anything to cook, said Ben Cooley, cutting out a piece of dough for a jumble. We don't keep Thanksgiving. Not keep Thanksgiving, said Jasper standing quite still. Never had a Thanksgiving? Well, I declare. And then he stopped again. Yes, answered Ben. We had one once, it was last year, but that wasn't much. Well then, said Jasper leaning over the table. I'll tell you what I should think you'd do, try Christmas. Oh, that's always worse, said Polly, setting down her rolling pin to think, which immediately rolled away by itself off from the table. We never had a Christmas, said little Davey reflectively. What are they like, Jasper? Jasper sat quite still and didn't reply to this question for a moment or two. To be among children who didn't like Thanksgiving and who never had seen a Christmas and didn't know what it was like was a new revelation to him. They hang up stockings, said Polly softly. How many, many times she had begged her mother to try it for the younger ones, but there was never anything to put in them and the winners were cold and hard and the strictest economy only carried them through. Oh, said little Franzian horror. Are their feet in them, Polly? No, dear, said Polly, while Jasper, instead of laughing, only stared. Something requiring a deal of thought was passing through the boy's mind just then. They shall have a Christmas, he muttered. I know father'll let me. But he kept his thoughts to himself and becoming his own gay, kindly self, he explained and told to Franzi and the others so many stories of past Christmases he had enjoyed that the interest in the baking soon dwindled away until a horrible smell of something burning brought them all to their senses. Oh, the house is burning, cried Polly. Oh, get a pail of water! Tizen either, said Jasper snuffing wisely. Oh, I know, I forgot all about it. I do beg your pardon. And running to the stove, he knelt down and drew out of the oven a black, odorous mass, which, with a crestfallen air, he brought to Polly. I'm no end sorry, I made such a mess of it, he said. I meant it for you. Tizen any matter, said Polly kindly. And now do you go on, cried Joel and David, both in the same breath, all about the tree, you know. Yes, yes, said the others, if you're not tired, Jasper. Oh, no, cried their accommodating friend. I love to tell about it, only wait. Let's help Polly clear up first. So after all traces of the frolic had been tidied up and made nice for the mother's return, they took seats in a circle and Jasper regaled them with story and reminiscence, till they felt as if fairyland were nothing to it. How did you ever live through it, Jasper King, said Polly, drawing the first long breath she had dared to indulge in? Such an elegant time! Jasper laughed. I hope I'll live through plenty more of them, he said merrily. We're going to Sister Marion's again, father and I. We always spend our Christmas there, you know, and she's to have all the cousins, and I don't know how many more, and a tree. But the best of all, there's going to be a German carol sung by choir boys. I should like that best of all. What are choir boys? Asked Polly, who was intensely fond of music. In some of the churches, explained Jasper, the choir is all boys, and they do chant and sing anthems perfectly beautifully, Polly. Do you play on the piano and sing? Asked Polly, looking at him in awe. Yes, said the boy simply. I've played ever since I was a little fellow, no bigger and fronzy. Oh, Jasper cried Polly, clasping her hands, her cheeks all aflame. Do you mean to say you do really and truly play on the piano? Why, yes, said the boy, looking into her flashing eyes. Polly's always crazy about music, explained Ben. She'll drum on the table and anywhere to make believe it's a piano. There's Dr. Fisher going by, said Joel, who, now that they had gotten on the subject of music, began to find prickles running up and down his legs from sitting so still. I wish he'd stop. Is he the one that cured your measles? And Polly's eyes asked Jasper running to the window. I want to see him. Well, there he is, cried Ben, as the doctor put his head out of the gig and bowed and smiled to the little group in the window. He's just lovely, cried Polly. Oh, I wish you knew him. If father's sick again, said Jasper, we'll have him. He looks nice anyway, for father don't like the doctor over in Hingham. Do you know, perhaps we'll come again next summer. Wouldn't that be nice? Oh, cried the children rapturously. Do come, Jasper, do. Well, maybe, said Jasper, if father likes it and sister Marion and her family will come with us, they do some summers. You'd like little Dick, I know, turning to fronzy. And I guess all of you'd like all of them, he added, looking at the group of interested listeners. They wanted to come this year awfully. They said, oh, grandpa, do let us go with you and Jappy. And what, said the children? Oh, said Jasper with a laugh. They call me Jappy. It's easier to say than Jasper, ever so many people do for short. You may if you want to, he said, and looking around on them all. How funny, he laughed Polly. But I don't know if it is any worse than Polly or Ben. Or fronzy, said Jappy. Don't you like Jappy, he said, bringing his head down to her level as she sat on the little stool at his feet, content and listening to the merry chat. Is that the same as Jasper, she asked gravely. Yes, the very same, he said. When they parted, Jappy and the little peppers were sworn friends, and the boy, happy in his good times in the cheery little home, felt the hours long between the visits that his father, when he saw the change that they brought in his son, willingly allowed him to make. Oh, dear, said Mrs. Pepper one day in the last of September, as a carriage drawn by a pair of very handsome horses stopped at their door, here comes Mr. King, I do believe. We never looked worse than we do today. I don't care, said Polly, flying out of the bedroom. Jappy's with the mama, and it'll be nice, I guess. At any rate, fronzy's clean as a pink, she thought to herself, looking at the little maiden busy with baby, to whom she was teaching deportment in the corner. But there was no time to fix up, for a tall, portly gentleman, leaning on his heavy gold cane, was walking up from the little brown gate to the big flat stone that served as a step. Jasper and Prince followed decorously. Is this little Miss Pepper? He asked pompously of Polly, who answered his rap on the door. Now, whether she was little Miss Pepper, she had never stopped to consider. I don't know, sir, I'm Polly. And then she blushed bright as a rose, and the laughing brown eyes looked beyond to Jasper, who stood on the walk and smiled, encouragingly. Is your mother in? Asked the old gentleman, who was so tall, he could scarcely enter the low door. And then Mrs. Pepper came forward and Jasper introduced her, and the old gentleman bowed and sat down in the seat Polly placed for him. And Mrs. Pepper thanked him with a heart overflowing with gratitude, through lips that would tremble even then, for all that Jasper had done for them. And the old gentleman said, hm, but he looked at his son, and something shone in his eye just for a moment. Franzi had retreated with baby in her arms, behind the door on the new arrival. But seeing everything progressing finely, and overcome by her extreme desire to see Jappy and Prince, she began by peeping out with big eyes to observe how things were going on. Just then the old gentleman happened to say, well, where is my little girl that baked me a cake so kindly? Then Franzi, forgetting all else but her poor, sick man, who also was Jasper's father, rushed out from behind the door, and coming up to the stately old gentleman in the chair, she looked up pityingly and said, shaking her yellow head, poor, sick man, was my boy good? After that there was no more gravity in ceremony. In a moment Franzi was perched upon old Mr. King's knee, and playing with his watch, while the others, freed from all restraint, were chatting and laughing happily, till some of the cheeriness overflowed and warmed the heart of the old gentleman. We go to-morrow, he said, rising and looking at his watch. Why is it possible that we have been here an hour? There, my little girl, will you give me a kiss? And he bent his handsome old head down to the childish face, upturned to his confidingly. Don't go, said the child, as she put up her little lips in grave confidence. I do like you, I do! Oh, Franzi began, Mrs. Pepper. Don't reprove her madam, said the old gentleman who liked it immensely. Yes, we go to-morrow, he said, looking around on the group to whom this was a blow they little expected. They had surely thought Jasper was to stay a week longer. I received a telegram this morning that I must be in the city on Thursday. And besides, madam, he said, addressing Mrs. Pepper, I think the climate is bad for me now as it induces rheumatism. The hotel is also getting unpleasant. There are many annoyances that I cannot put up with, so that altogether I do not regret it. Mrs. Pepper, not knowing exactly what to say to this, wisely said nothing. Meantime, Jappy and the little peppers were having a sorry time over in the corner by themselves. Well, all right, cried Jasper, not liking to look at Polly just then, as he was sure he shouldn't want anyone to look at him if he felt like crying. And you must answer them all. Oh, we will, we will, they cried. And Jappy do come next summer, said Joel. If father will only say yes, we will, I tell you, he responded eagerly. Come, my boy, said his father the third time. And Jasper knew by the tone that there must be no delay. Mr. King had been nervously putting his hand in his pocket during the last few moments that the children were together. But when he glanced at Mrs. Pepper's eyes, something made him draw it out again hastily, as empty as he put it in. No, it wouldn't do, he said to himself. She isn't the kind of woman to whom one could offer money. The children crowded back their tears and hastily said they last goodbye, some of them hanging on to Prince till the last moment. And then the carriage door shut with a bang, Jasper giving them a bright parting smile, and they were gone. And the peppers went into their little brown house and shut the door. End of Chapter 15. Chapter 16 of Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. This recording by Amy Benton. Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 16, Getting a Christmas for the Little Ones. And so October came and went. The Little Peppers were very lonely after Jasper had gone. Even Mrs. Pepper caught herself looking up one day, when the wind blew the door open suddenly, half expecting to see the merry whole-sold boy and the faithful dog come scampering in. But the letters came and that was a comfort, and it was fun to answer them. The first one spoke of Jasper's being under a private tutor with his cousins. Then they were less frequent and they knew he was studying hard. Full of anticipations of Christmas himself, he urged the Little Peppers to try for one. And the life and spirit of the letter was so catching that Polly and Ben found their souls fired within them to try at least to get for the Little Ones a taste of Christmas tide. Now, Mammy, they said at last, one day in the latter part of October when the crisp, fresh air filled their little healthy bodies with springing vitality that must bubble over and rush into something. We don't want to thanksgiving. Truly, we don't, but may we try for a Christmas? Just a little one, they added timidly. For the children? Ben and Polly always called the three younger ones of the flock, the children. To their utter surprise, Mrs. Pepper looked mildly assenting and presently she said, well, I don't see why you can't try. Don't do any harm, I'm sure. You see, Mrs. Pepper had received a letter from Jasper, which at present she didn't feel called upon to say anything about. Now, said Polly, drawing a long breath as she and Ben stole away into a corner to talk over and lay plans. What does it mean? Never mind, said Ben, as long as she's given us leave, I don't care what it is. I neither, said Polly, with a delicious feeling as if the whole world were before them where to choose. It'll be just gorgeous, Ben. What's that? asked Ben, who was not as much given to long words as Polly, who dearly loved to be fine in language as well as other things. Oh, that's something Jappy said one day, and I asked him, and he says it's fine and lovely and all that, answered Polly, delighted that she knew something she could really tell Ben. Then why not just say fine, commented Ben practically, with a little upward lift of his nose? Oh, I'd know, I'm sure, laughed Polly. Let's think of what we'll do for Christmas. How many weeks are there, anyway, Ben? And she began to count on her fingers. That's no way, said Ben, I'm going to get the almanac. So he went to the old clock, or hanging up by its side, was a farmer's almanac. Now we'll know, he said, coming back to their corner. So with heads together they consulted and counted up, till they found that eight weeks and three days remained in which to get ready. Dear me, said Polly, it's most a year, isn't it, Ben? Don't be much time for us, said Ben, who thought of the many hours to be devoted to hard work that would run away with the time. We better begin right away, Polly. Well, all right, said Polly, who could scarcely keep her fingers still, as she thought of the many things she should so love to do if she could. But first, Ben, what let's do? Would you rather hang up their stockings? Asked Ben, as if he had unlimited means at his disposal, or have a tree. Why, said Polly, with wide open eyes at the two magnificent ideas, we haven't got anything to put in the stockings when we hang them, Ben. That's just it, said Ben. Now wouldn't it be better to have a tree, Polly? I can get that easy in the woods, you know. Well, interrupted Polly, eagerly, we haven't got anything to hang on that, either, Ben. You know, Jappy said, folks, hang all sorts of presents on the branches, so I don't see, she continued impatiently, that that's any good. Then you can't do anything, Ben Pepper, so there. There isn't anything to do anything with. And with a flounce, Polly sat down in the old wooden stool, and folding her hands looked at Ben in a most despairing way. I know, said Ben, we haven't got much. We haven't got anything, said Polly, still looking at him. Why, we've got a tree, replied Ben, hopefully. Well, what's a tree, retorted Polly, scornfully? They can go out and look at a tree outdoors. Well, now I tell you, Polly, said Ben, sitting down on the floor beside her, and speaking very slowly and decisively. We've got to do something, because we've begun, and we might make a tree real pretty. How, asked Polly, ashamed of her ill-humour, but not in the least, seeing how anything could be made of a tree. How, Ben Pepper? Well, said Ben, pleasantly, we'd set it up in the corner. Oh, no, not in the corner, cried Polly, whose spirits began to rise a little, as she saw Ben so hopeful. Put it in the middle of the room, do. I don't care where you put it, said Ben, smiling and happy, that Polly's usual cheerful energy had returned. But I thought it will be a little one, you know, and I thought it would look better in the corner. What else, asked Polly, eager to see how Ben would dress the tree. Well, said Ben, you know the Henderson boys gave me a lot of corn last week. I don't see as that helps much, said Polly, still incredulous. Do you mean to hang the cobs on the branches, Ben? That would be just dreadful. I should think likely, laughed Ben. No indeed, Polly Pepper, but if we should pop a lot, oh, a bushel, and then we should string them, we could wind it all in and out among the branches, and, well, wouldn't that be pretty, cried Polly, real pretty? And we can do that, I'm sure. Yes, continued Ben. And then, don't you know, there's some little candle ends in that box in the provision room. Mammy, Mammy, give us them. I don't believe that she would, cried Polly. It would be just like Jappies if she would. Let's ask her now, this very same minute. And they scampered hurriedly to Mrs. Pepper, who, to their extreme astonishment, after all, said yes, and smiled encouragingly on the plan. Isn't Mammy good, said Polly, with loving gratitude as they seated themselves again. Now we're all right, exclaimed Ben, and I tell you, we can make the tree look perfectly splendid, Polly Pepper. I'll tell you another thing, Ben, said Polly, oh, something elegant. You must get ever so many hickory nuts, and you know those bits of bright paper that I've got in the bureau drawer. Well, we can paste them on to the nuts, and hang them on for the balls Jappie tells of. Polly, cried Ben, it'll be such a tree as never was, won't it? Yes, but dear me, cried Polly, springing up, the children are coming. Wasn't it good a grandma wanted them to come over this afternoon so we could talk? No hush, as the door opened to admit the noisy little troupe. If you think of any new plan, whispered Ben behind his hand while Mrs. Pepper engaged their attention. You'll have to come out of the woodshed to talk after this. I know it, whispered Polly back again. Oh, we've got just heaps of things to think of, Benzie. Such a contriving and racking of brains as Polly and Ben set up after this. They would bob over at each other and smile with significant gesture as a new idea would strike one of them in the most mysterious way that if observed would drive the others almost wild. And then, frightened, lest in some hilarious moment the secret should pop out, the two conspirators would be take themselves to the woodshed as before agreed upon. But Joel, finding this out, followed them one day. Or, as Polly said, tagged, so that was no good. Let's go behind the woodpile, she said to Ben in desperation. He can't hear there if we whisper real soft. Yes, he will, said Ben, who knew Joel's hearing faculties much better. We'll have to wait till they're a bed. So after that, when Nightfall first began to make its appearance, Polly would hint mildly about bedtime. You hustle us so, said Joel, after he'd been sent off to bed for two or three nights unusually early. Oh, Joey, it's good for you to get to bed, said Polly coaxingly. It'll make you grow, you know, real fast. Well, I don't grow a bed, grumbled Joel, who thought something was in the wind. You and Ben are gonna talk, I know, and wink your eyes as soon as we're gone. Well, go along, Joel, that's a good boy, said Polly, laughing, and you'll know some day. What will you give me? asked Joel, seeing a bargain, his foot on the lowest stair leading to the loft. Say, Polly. Oh, I haven't got much to give, she said cheerfully, but I'll tell you what, Joey, I'll tell you a story every day that you go to bed. Will you? cried Joel, hopping back into the room. Begin now, Polly, begin now. Well, you haven't been to bed yet, said Polly, so I can't till to-morrow. Yes, I have. You made us go for three. No, I guess, fourteen nights, said Joel indignantly. Well, you were made to go, laughed Polly. I said if you'd go good, you know. So run along, Joe, and I'll tell you a nice one to-morrow. It's got to be long, shouted Joel, when he saw he could get no more, making good time up to the loft. To say that Polly in the following days was Master Joel's slave was stating the case lightly. However, she thought by her storytelling she got off easily, as each evening saw the boys drag their unwilling feet to bedward and leave Ben and herself in peace to plan and work undisturbed. There they would sit by the little old table around the one tallow candle while Mrs. Pepper sewed away busily, looking up to smile or to give some bits of advice, keeping her own secret, meanwhile, which made her blood leap fast, as the happy thoughts nestled in her heart of her little ones and their coming glee. And Polly made the loveliest of paper dolls for fronze out of the rest of the bits of bright paper, and Ben made windmills and whistles for the boys and funny little carved basket with a handle for fronze out of a hickory nutshell, and a new pink calico dress for Seraphina that peered out of the top drawer of the old bureau in the bedroom whenever anyone opened it, for Mrs. Pepper kindly let the children lock up their treasures there as fast as completed. I'll make Seraphina a bonnet, said Mrs. Pepper, for there's that old bonnet string in the bag, you know, Polly, that'll make it beautiful. Oh, do, mother, cried Polly, she's been wanting a new one awfully. And I'm going to knit some mittens for Joel and David, continued Mrs. Pepper, because I could get the yarn cheap now. I saw some down at the store yesterday I could have at house price. I don't believe anybody will have as good a Christmas as we shall, cried Polly, pasting on a bit of trimming to the gayest doll's dress. No, not even Jappy. An odd little smile played around Mrs. Pepper's mouth, but she said not a word, and so the fun and the work went on. The tree was to be set up in the provision room. That was finally decided, as Mrs. Pepper showed the children how utterly useless it would be to try having it in the kitchen. I'll find the key, children, she said. I think I know where it is, and then we can keep them out. Well, but it looks so, said Polly, demureing at the prospect. Oh, no, Polly, said her mother, at any rate, it's clean. Polly, said Ben, we can but ever grain around, you know. So we can, said Polly, brightly. Oh, Ben, you do think of the best things. We couldn't have had them in the kitchen. And don't let's hang the presents on the tree, continued Ben. Let's have the children hang up their stockings. They want to, awfully. For I heard David tell Joel this morning before we got up. They thought I was asleep, but I wasn't. That he did so wish they could. But says he, don't tell Mammy, because that'll make her feel bad. Oh, the little dears, said Mrs. Pepper impulsively, they shall have their stockings, too. And we'll make the tree pretty enough, said Polly enthusiastically. We shan't want the presents to hang on. We've got so many things. And then we'll have hickory nuts to eat. And perhaps Mammy'll let us make some molasses candy the day before, she said, with a sly look at her mother. You may, said Mrs. Pepper, smiling. Oh, goody! They both cried, hugging each other ecstatically. And we'll have a frolic in the provision room afterward, finished Polly, ooh! And so the weeks flew by. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, till only the three days remained. And to think the fun that Polly and Ben had had already. It's better than Christmas, they told their mother, to get ready for it. It's too bad you can't hang up your stockings, said Mrs. Pepper, looking keenly at their flushed faces and bright eyes. You never hung them up. It isn't any matter, Mammy. They both said cheerily. It's a great deal better to have the children have a nice time. I want to be elegant. Perhaps we'll have ours next year. For two days before, the house was turned upside down for Joel to find the biggest stocking he could. But on Polly telling him it must be his own, he stopped his search and, bringing down his well-worn one, hung it by the corner of the chimney to be ready. You put yours up on the other side, Dave, he advised. There isn't any nail, cried David, investigating. I'll drive one, said Joel. So he ran out to the Tewel house, as one corner of the woodshed was called, and brought in the hammer and one or two nails. Franzi, it's a-going in the middle, he said with a nail in his mouth. Yes, I'm going to hang up my stocking, cried the child, hopping from one toe to the other. Run and get it, Franzi, said Joel. And I'll hang it up for you. Why, it's two days before Christmas yet, said Polly, laughing. Look how they'll look hanging there so long. I don't care, said Joel, giving a last thump to the nail. We're going to be ready. Oh, dear, I wish it was tonight. Can't Seraphina hang up her stocking? asked Franzi, coming up to Polly's side. And baby, too? Oh, let her have a part of yours, said Polly. That'll be best. Seraphina and baby and you have one stocking together. Oh, yes, cried Franzi, easily pleased. That'll be best. So for the next two days they were almost distracted. The youngest ones asking countless questions about Santa Claus and how could he possibly get down the chimney? Joel running his head up as far as he dared to see if it was big enough. I guess he can, he said, coming back in a sooty state, looking very much excited and delighted. Will he be black like Joey? asked Franzi, pointing to his grimy face. No, said Polly, he don't ever get black. Why, they all asked, and then over and over, they wanted the delightful mystery explained. I'll never get through this day, said Polly in despair as the last one arrived. I wished was tonight, for we're all ready. Santa's coming, Santa's coming, saying Franzi, as the bright afternoon sunlight went down over the crisp, fresh snow. Yes, Santa is coming, saying Polly. And Santa Claus is coming, rang back and forth to the old kitchen, till it seemed as if the three little old stockings would hop down and join in the dance going on summarily. I'm glad mine is red, said Franzi at last, stopping in the wild jig and going up to see if it was all safe, because then Santa'll know it's mine, won't he, Polly? Oh, dear, cried Polly, catching her up. Oh, Franzi, you are going to have a Christmas. Well, I wish, said Joel, I had my name on mine. I know Dave will get some of my things. Oh, no, Joe, said Mrs. Pepper. Santa Claus is smart, he'll know yours is in the left-hand corner. Will he, asked Joel, still a little fearful. Oh, yes indeed, said Mrs. Pepper, confidently, I never knew him to make a mistake. Now, said Ben, when they had all made a pretense of eating supper, for there was such an excitement prevailing that no one sat still long enough to eat much. You must every one fly off to bed as quick as ever can be. Santa Claus, come faster, then, asked Joel. Yes, said Ben, just twice as fast. I'm going then, said Joel, but I ain't going to sleep, because I mean to hear him come over the roof. Then I'm going to get up, for I do so want a squint at a reindeer. I am, too, cried Davey excitedly. Oh, do come, Joe, and he began to mount the stairs. Good night, said Franzi, going up to the center of the chimney-piece, where the little red stalking dangled limpsily. Lift me up, Polly, do. What do you want to do? asked Polly, running and giving her a jump. What do you going to do, Franzi? I want to kiss it, good night, said the child, with eyes big with anticipation and happiness, hugging the well-worn toe of the little old stalking affectionately. I wish I had something to give Santa, Polly. I do, she cried, as she held her fast in her arms. Never mind, pet, said Polly, nearly smothering her with kisses. If you're a good girl, Franzi, that pleases Santa the most of anything. Does it? cried Franzi, delighted beyond measure, as Polly carried her into the bedroom. But I'll be good always. I will. End of Chapter 16