 CHAPTER 25 ON THE MARITTA GLASS Well, we can't all get into one carriage, said Polly, on the little brick-paved veranda of the hotel. So what is the use of fussing, Adela? I don't care, said Adela. I'm going to ride in the same carriage with you, Polly Pepper, so there! And she ran her arm in Polly's and held it fast. Jasper kicked his heel impatiently against one of the pillars where the sweepfire ran, and then he remembered and stopped suddenly, hoping nobody had heard. The best way to fix it is to go where we're put, he said, at last, trying to speak pleasantly. No, I'm going with Polly, declared Adela, perversely, holding Polly tighter than ever. I'm going with you, Polly, cried Franzi, running up gleefully. Grandpa Pa says I may. Well, so am I, announced Adela, loudly. Tom Selwyn gave a low whistle and thrust his hands in his pockets, his great and only comfort on times like this. Anything but a greedy girl, the sniffed and lofty contempt. Meanwhile, the horses were being put in the carriages. The stablemen were running hither and thither to look to buckle and strap, and a lot of bustle was going on that at any other time would have claimed the boys. Now it fell flat as a matter of interest. Hello, Colupp, the drivers gave their queer call, clear down in their throats, and hopped to their places on the three conveyances. And with a rattle and a flourish, the horses now spun around the fountain in the little courtyard to come up with a swing to the veranda. No, then, said Grandpa Pa, who had been overseeing every detail. There we are, running his eyes over his party, that's right, in great satisfaction. I never saw such a family as I have for being prompt on all occasions. Well, then, the first thing I have to do is get you settled in these carriages the right way." Adelaide at that snuggled up closer than ever to Polly, and gripped her fast. "'Now, Mrs. Fisher,' said old Mr. King, "'you'll ride with Mrs. Selwyn in the first carriage, and you must take two of the young folks in with you.' "'Oh, let Polly and me go in there,' cried Adela, forgetting her wholesome fear of the stately old gentleman in her anxiety to get her own way. "'Polly is going with me and Franzi,' said Mr. King, "'hop in, Adela Child, and one of you boys.' Tom ducked off the rando, while Adela, not daring to say another syllable, slowly withdrew her arm from Polly's, and mounted the carriage-step with a miserable face. "'Come on, one of you boys,' cried Mr. King impatiently. "'We should have started a quarter of an hour ago. I don't care which one, only hurry.' "'I can't,' declared Tom, flatly grinding his heel into the pebbles, and looking into Jasper's face. "'Hurry well,' Jasper drew a long breath. "'I must, then.' And without more ado, he got into the first carriage, and they rattled off to wait outside the big gate till the procession was ready to start. All Mrs. Gray, the parson's wife and the parson, and little Dr. Fisher, made the next load, and then Grandpa Pa, perfectly delighted that he had arranged it all so nicely, with Polly and Franzi, climbed into the third and last carriage, while Tom swung of himself up as a fourth. "'They say it is a difficult thing to arrange carriage parties with success,' observed Mr. King. "'I don't find it so in the least,' he added complacently, just on the point of telling the driver to give the horses their heads. "'But this is because I have such a fine party on my hands, for each one is willing to oblige and—' "'Ugh!' exclaimed Tom Selwyn, with a snort that made the old gentleman start. "'I'm going to get out a minute. Excuse me, can't explain.' And he vaulted over the wheel. "'Bless me. Let's come to the boy,' exclaimed Mr. King. "'Now he's forgotten something. I hope you won't be long.' But Tom didn't go to the hotel. Instead he dashed up to carriage number one. "'Get out,' he was saying to Jasper, and presenting a very red face to view. "'I'm going in here.' "'Oh, no,' said Jasper. "'It's all fixed, and I'm going to stay here.' And despite all Tom could say, this was the sole reply he got. So back he went, and climbed into old Mr. King's carriage again, with a very rueful face. Old Mr. King viewed him with a cold displeasure, as the driver smacked his whip, and off they went to join the rest of the party. "'You must go first,' sang out the little doctor, as Grandpa Pa's carriage drew up. "'You are the leader, and we'll all follow you.' "'Yes, yes,' shouted the parson, like a boy. "'And the occupants of carriage number one, saying the same thing, Grandpa Pa's conveyance bold ahead, and he, well pleased to head the position, felt some of his displeasure at the boy sitting opposite to him, dropping off with each revolution of the wheels. But Tom couldn't keep still. "'I didn't want to come in this carriage, sir,' he burst out. "'Eh, what?' Old Mr. King brought his gaze again to bear upon Tom's face. "'Well, here you are now,' he said, only half comprehending. "'Because Jasper won't take the place,' cried Tom, setting his teeth together in distress. "'That's what I got out for.' "'Oh, I see,' said Mr. King, a light beginning to break through. Tom wilted miserably over the gaze that still seemed to go through and through him, and Polly looked off at her side of the carriage, wishing the drive over the tetanoir was all ended. Old Mr. King turned to Franzi at his side. "'Well, now,' he said, taking her hand, "'we are in a predicament, Franzi, for it evidently isn't going to be such an overwhelming success as I thought. "'What's a predicament?' asked Franzi, wrenching her gaze from the lovely vine-clad hills, which he had been viewing with great satisfaction, to look at once into his face. "'Oh, a mix-up, a mess generally,' answered Grand Papa, not pausing to choose words. "'Well, what's to be done now? That is the question.' Tom groaned at sight of the face under the white hair from which all prospect of pleasure had fled. "'I was a beastly cat,' he muttered to himself. Franzi leaned over Mr. King's knee. "'Tell me,' she begged. "'What is it, Grand Papa?' "'Oh, nothing, child,' said Grand Papa, with a glance at Polly's face. "'And that you can help, at least.' Polly drew a long breath. "'Something must be done,' she decided. "'Oh, I know. Why, Grand Papa, we can change before we get to the halfway place.' She cried suddenly, glad to think of something to say. "'Can't we? And then we can all have different places.' "'The very thing,' exclaimed Mr. King, his continence lightening. "'Come, Tom, my boy, cheer up. I'll put Jasper and everyone else in the right place soon. "'Here, you, stop a bit, will you?' to the driver. "'Call up,' cried the driver, thinking it a call to increase speed, so the horse is bounded on smartly for several paces, and no one could speak to advantage. "'Make him hold up, Tom,' commanded Mr. King sharply. "'And, Tom, knowing quite well how to accomplish this, Grand Papa soon stood up in the carriage and announced, "'In half an hour or thereabout, if we come to a good stopping place, I shall change some of you twelve people about in the carriages. Pass the word along.' But Adela didn't ride with Polly. For rushing and pushing as the change about was affected, to get her way and be with Polly, she felt her arm taken in a very light but firm grasp. "'No, no, my dear,' it was old Mr. King. "'Not that way. Here is your place. When a little girl pushes, she doesn't get as much as if she waits to be asked.' "'It had to be done,' he said to himself, for this poor old child has had no mother to teach her, and it will do her good.' But he felt sorry for himself to be the one to teach the lesson, and so they went over the tetenoir to catch the first sight of Mont Blanc. "'I'm going to have a donkey for my very own,' provided Franzi excitedly the next morning to Jasper, whom she met in the little sun-parler. "'No,' cried Jasper, pretending to be much amazed. "'You don't say so, Franzi.' "'Yes, I am,' she cried, bobbing her yellow head. "'Grandpa Pa said so. He really did, Jasper, and I'm going to ride up that long, big mountain on my donkey.' She pointed up and off, but in the wrong direction. "'Oh no, Franzi, that isn't the way we're going. The mountain varies over here, child,' corrected Jasper. "'And I'm going to ride my donkey,' repeated Franzi, carrying little which way she was going, since all roads must, of course, lead to Fairyland. "'And we're going to see the water that's frozen, and Grandpa Pa says we are to walk over it. But I'd rather ride my donkey,' Jasper, confided Franzi in a burst of confidence. "'I guess you'll be glad enough to get off your donkey by the time we reach the top of Mountain Bear,' observed Jasper wisely. "'Well, no, Franzi, we are not going for a day or two, you know, for our father doesn't wish us to be tired.' "'Well, I'm not a bit tired, Jasper,' said Franzi, and I do so very much wish we could go to-day.' "'Oh, dear me,' exclaimed Jasper with a little laugh. "'Well, we've only just come, Franzi. It won't be so very long before we'll be off. Goodness, the time flies so here. It seems to me we shan't hardly turn around before those donkeys will be coming up into this yard after us to get on their backs.' But Franzi thought the time had never dragged so in all her small life, and although she went about hanging to Grandpa Pa's hand as sweet and patient as ever, all her mind was on the donkeys. And whenever she saw one, and the street was full, especially at morning and in the late afternoon of the little beasts of burden clattering up the stony roads, she would beg to just go and pat one of the noses, if by chance one of the beasts should stand still long enough to admit of such attention. "'Oh, no, Franzi,' expostulated old Mr. King, when his pleasing little performance had been indulged in for half a dozen times. "'You can't pat them all. Goodness me, child. The woods are full of them,' he brought up in dismay. "'Do they live in the woods?' asked Franzi in astonishment. "'I mean the place. This whole valley of shamanese, full of donkeys,' said Grandpa Pa. "'So you see, child. It's next to impossible to pat all their noses.' "'I hope I'm going to have that sweet dear little one,' cried Franzi, giving up all her mind, since the soft noses couldn't be padded, to happy thoughts of tomorrow's bliss. "'See, Grandpa Pa,' she pulled his hand gently, to ride up the mountain on. "'Well, you'll have a good one. That is as good as can be obtained,' said the old gentleman. "'But as far as any particular one, what they're all alike to me is two peas, Franzi.' But Franzi had her own ideas on the subject, and though, on every other occasion, agreeing with Grandpa Pa, she saw good and sufficient reason why every donkey should be entirely different from every other donkey. And when, on the next morning, their possession of donkeys filed solemnly into the hotel yard, she screamed out. "'Oh, Grandpa Pa, there he is! The very one I wanted! Oh, may I have him? Put me up, too!' "'He's the worst one of the whole lot,' groaned Grandpa Pa, his eyes running over the file. "'I know, by the way, he puts his vicious soul's beat down. Franzi, here's a cunning little fellow,' he added, artfully trying to lead her to one a few degrees better, he fondly hoped. But Franzi already had her arms up by her particular donkey's neck, and her cheek laid against his nose, and she was telling him that he was her donkey, for she thought Grandpa Pa would say yes. "'So what else could he do, pray tell, but say yes?' As she mounted the steps and was seated, her little brown gown pulled out straight and the saddle girth tightened, and all the other delightful and important details attended to, and then the reins were put on her overjoyed hands. She never knew how it was all done, seeing nothing, hearing nothing of the confusion and chatter, of the mounting of the others, her gaze fixed on the long ears before her, and only conscious that her very own donkey was really there, and that she was on his back. And it was not until they started, and the guy who held her bridal lopped off into an easy pace by the animal's head, that she aroused from her dream of bliss, as a sudden thought struck her. "'What is my donkey's name?' she asked softly. The man lopped on, not hearing, and he wouldn't have understood had he heard. "'I don't believe he has any name,' said old Mr. King just behind. "'Franzi, is your saddle all right? Do you like a child?' All in one breath. "'I like it very much,' answered Franzi, trying to turn around. "'Oh, don't do that, child!' said Grandpa Pa, hastily, sit perfectly still, and on no account turn around or move in the saddle. "'I want Grandpa Pa,' she promised obediently, and presently she began again. "'I want to know his name, Grandpa Pa, so that I can tell my pony when I get home.' "'Well, we'll find out,' said Grandpa Pa. "'Here you. Can't you tell me the name of that donkey?' He cried to the guy holding Franzi's bridal. "'Oh, I forgot he doesn't understand English,' and he tried it in French. But this was not much better, for old Mr. King, preferring to use none but the best of French when he employed any, was only succeeding in mystifying the poor man so that he couldn't find his tongue at all, but stared like a claw till the old gentleman's patience was exhausted. At last Jasper, hearing what the trouble was, shouted out something from his position in the rear. They carried the meaning along with it, and Franzi the next minute was delighted to hear Bula as the guy turned and smiled and showed all his teeth at her. His pleasure was so great at discovering that he could really understand. "'Why, that's the name of my donkey,' said Polly, patting the beast's rough neck. He told me so when he helped me to mount. "'So it is mine,' announced Jasper, bursting into a laugh. I guess they only have one name for the whole lot. "'Well, don't let us tell Franzi so,' said Polly. "'And I shall call mine Greybeard, "'because he's got such a funny old stiff beard and is gray.' "'And I shall question mine Boneyard,' declared Jasper, "'for he's got such a very big lot of bones, "'and they aren't funny, I can tell you.' "'And so, with fun and nonsense and laughter, "'as soon as they round around "'by the little English church and across the meadow "'and chuck into the pine wood, "'the whole party of twelve, grandpa and all, "'began to sing snatches from the newest opera "'down to college songs. "'For grandpa hadn't forgotten his college days "'when he had sung with the best, "'and he had to parse it on this occasion "'to keep him company, "'and the young people, of course, "'knew all the songs by heart, "'as what young person doesn't, very tell. "'So the bits and snatches rolled out with a gusto "'and seemed to echo along the whole mountainside "'as a possession of sure-footed animals "'climbed the steep curves. "'Oh, Polly, your donkey is going over,' exclaimed Adela, who rode the second in the rear after Polly. "'He flirts his hind legs right over the precipice "'every time you go round a curve.' "'Well, he brings them round, all right,' said Polly, "'composably, and with a little left. "'Oh, isn't this too lovely for anything?' She cried with sparkling eyes. "'Well, don't let him,' cried Adela, huddling up on her donkey and pulling at the ring to make him creep closer to the protecting earth wall. "'Nah, nah,' one of the guides ran up to her shaking his head. Adela, fresh from her Paris school, had all her French of the best kind, too, at her tongue's end, but she seemed to get on no better than Mr. King. "'My French is just bad enough to be useful,' laughed Jasper, so he unctangled the trouble again and made Adela see that she really must not pull at her bridle but allow the donkey to go his own gate, for they were all trained to it. "'Your French is just beautiful,' cried Polly. "'Oh, Jasper, you know, Monsieur always says, "'Don't Polly,' begged Jasper in great distress. "'Oh, no, I won't,' promised Polly, and I didn't mean to, but I couldn't help it, Jasper, when you spoke against your beautiful French.' "'We've all heard you talk French, Jasper, so you needn't feel so cut up that Polly should quote your Monsieur,' cried Tom, who, strange to say, no matter how far he chanced to ride in the rear, always managed to hear everything. "'That's because we're everlastingly turning a corner,' he exclaimed when they tweeted him for it. "'And as I'm near the end of the line, I get the benefit of the doubling and twisting, for the front is always just above me. "'So don't say anything, you don't want me to hear, old fellow,' he sang out to Jasper on the bridle path, just above,' as Tom had said. "'No, don't you want to get off?' cried Jasper, deserting his donkey and running up to Frenzy as they reached the summit and drew up before the hotel. "'Oh, somebody take that child off,' groaned old Mr. King, accepting the arm of the guide to help him dismount. "'For I can't. Every separate and distinct bone in my body protests against donkeys from this time forth and forever more. "'And yet I've got to go down on one,' he added ruefully. "'Now, I don't want to get down,' declared Frenzy, still holding fast to the reins. "'Can't I sit on my donkey, Jasper, while you all walk over to the frozen water?' "'Oh, my goodness, no,' gasped Jasper. "'Why, Frenzy, you'll be tired to death. The very idea, child.' "'No,' said Frenzy, shaking her yellow hair obstinately. "'I wouldn't be tired once in a bit, Jasper. And I don't want to get down from my donkey.' "'Well, if you didn't go over, then married a glass, why, we couldn't any of us go,' said Jasper at his wit's end. How to manage it without worrying his father already extremely tired, he could say. "'And that's what we came up for.' Frenzy dropped the reins. "'Take me down, please, Jasper,' she said, putting out her arms. "'How are you now, father?' cried Jasper, running over to him when he had set Frenzy on the ground. "'It's astonishing,' said old Mr. King, stretching his shapely limbs. "'But all that dreadful sensation I always have, after riding on one of those atrocious animals, is disappearing fast.' "'Oh, that's good,' cried Jasper, in delight. "'Well, I suppose we were all going to wait a bit?' He asked, and longing to begin the tramp over the married a glass. "'Wait? Yes, indeed. Every blessed one of us,' declared his father. "'Goodness me, Jasper. What are you thinking of to us? Such a question. After this pull-up here, why, we shan't stir from this place for an hour.' "'I suppose we'd have to wait,' said Jasper, rushing off over the rocks, feeling how good it was to get down on one's feet again, and run and race. And getting Polly and Tom and Adela, they ran down where the donkeys were tethered and saw them fed, and did a lot of exploring. It didn't seem like any time before the alpine horn sounded above their heads, and there was grandpa Pah, tooting away and calling them to come up and buy their woollen socks, for they were going to start. So they scrambled up and picked out their socks, and each seizing a pair on one hand, and in Alpenstock with a long, sharp spike on the end in the other, they ran off down the zig-zag pack to the glacier, two or three guides helping the others along. At the foot of the rocky path, the four drew up. "'Oh, dear! It's time to put on these horrible old stockings,' grumbled Adela, shaking hers discontentedly. "'Good old stockings, you'd much better say,' broke in Jasper. "'They're better than a broken neck,' observed Tom, just meaning to ask Polly if he could put hers on for her. But he was too slow in getting at it, and Jasper was already kneeling on the rocks and doing that very thing. Now I'm all ready,' announced Polly, stamping her feet, arrayed in marvelous red-and-white striped affairs. "'Thank you, Jasper. Oh, how funny they feel!' "'Shall I help you?' asked Tom awkwardly enough of Adela. "'Oh, I don't want them on, and I don't mean to wear them,' said Adela, with sudden twist. "'I'm going to throw them away.' "'And you'll just have to stay back,' said Jasper decidedly, for no one is to be allowed on that glacier who doesn't put on a pair.' "'I won't slip the idea,' grumbled Adela. Yet she stuck out her foot, and Tom, getting down on his knees, suppressed a whistle as he securely tied them on. Then the boys flew into there's instant earth. "'Find a blue!' said Franzi as the others filed slowly down the winding path between the rocks, and she pointed to the pair dangling across her arm. "'I'm so very glad they're blue, Grandpa Pa!' "'So do I, Pitt,' he cried, delighted to find that he was apparently as agile as a parson. No one could hope to equal little Dr. Fisher, who was here, there, and everywhere, skipping about among the rocks like a boy let loose from school. "'Well, well, the children are already,' exclaimed old Mr. King, coming up on the floor, impatient to begin their icy walk. "'Didn't you expect it?' cried little Dr. Fisher, skipping up. "'Well, to say the truth, I did,' answered old Mr. King with a laugh. "'Well, Franzi, sit down on that rock, and let the guy tie on your stockings.' So Franzi's little blue stockings were tied on, and after Grandpa Pa had gallantly seen that everybody else was served, he had his pulled over his boots and fastened securely, and the line of march was taken up. "'You go ahead, Father,' begged Jasper, and will all follow. So old Mr. King, with Franzi, and a guide on her farther side, led the way, and the red stockings and the brown and the black and some of indescribable hue moved off upon the mare-de-glace. "'It's dreadfully dirty,' said Adela, turning up her nose. "'I thought a glacier was white when you got up to it.' "'Oh, I think it's lovely,' cried Polly, and the green down on the crevasse. "'Look, Adela, it's a dirty green,' persisted Adela, whose artistic sense wouldn't be satisfied. "'Oh, dear me,' as her foot slipped, and she clutched Mrs. Henderson, who happened to be next.' "'Now how about those woolen stockings, as Tom, while Polly and Jasper both sang out, "'Take care, and go slowly.' Adela didn't answer, but struck the sharp end of her Alpenstock smartly in the ice. "'Something is the matter with my stocking,' at last said the parson's wife, stopping and holding out her right foot. The guide nears her stock, too, and kneeling down on the ice, he pulled it into place, for it had slipped half off. "'Now be very careful,' warned Grandpa Pa, "'and don't venture too near the edge.' As he paused with Franzi in the guide, the others, coming up, looked down into a round green pool of water, and seemed to stare up at them as if to say, "'I am of unknown depth, so beware of me.' "'That gives me the creeps, Polly,' as you say,' Mrs. Henderson observed. "'Dear me, I shall never forget how that green water looks.' And she shivered and edged farther off yet. Supposing any one of us should fall in.' "'Well, he'd go down right straight through the globe, seems to me,' said Tom, with a last look at the pool as they turned off. It looks as if it had no end, till one would fetch up on the other side. "'I'd love to hop over these little crevices,' said Polly, and suiting the action to the word. "'Something is the matter with my stocking again,' announced Mrs. Henderson to the guide presently. "'I am sorry to trouble you, but it needs to be fixed.' He didn't understand the words, but there was no mistaking the foot thrust out with the woolen sock, now wet and soddened, half off again. So he kneeled down and pulled it on once more. Before they reached the other side, the parson's wife had had that stocking pulled on six times, until at last the guide, finding no more pleasure in a repetition of the performance, took a string from his pocket, and bunching up in his fists a good portion of the stocking heel, he wound the string around it and tied it fast, cut off the string, and returned the rest to his pocket. "'Why do you tie up the heel?' queried Mrs. Henderson. "'I should think it much better to secure it in front.' But he didn't understand, and the rest were quite a good bit in advance, and, heading to give trouble, she went on, the stocking heel sticking out a few inches. But she kept it on her foot, so that might be called success. The little widow Gray was not going over the mauve pas. Neither was Mrs. Selwyn, as she had traversed it twice before. So on reaching the other side, they were just about bidding goodbye to the others, when, without a bit of warning, the parson's wife, in turning around, fell flat and disappeared to the view of some of them behind a boulder of ice. All was confusion in an instant. The guides rushed everybody rushed, palmel to the rescue, Tom's long legs, as usual, getting him there first. There she was in a heap, in a depression of ice and snow and water. "'I'm all right, except,' and she couldn't help but grimace of pain, my foot. The little doctor swept them all to one side, as they seated her on one of the boulders of ice. "'Huh, I would think lightly,' at the sight of the tied-up stocking hill, you stepped on that, and it flung you straight as a die, and turned your foot completely over.' "'Yes,' said Mrs. Henderson, then she saw the guy who had tied the stocking, looking on with a face of great concern. "'Oh, don't say anything. It makes him feel badly,' she mumbled, wishing her foot wouldn't ache so. Little Dr. Fisher was rapidly untying the unlucky stocking, and whipping off the boot. He soon made sure that no ligaments were broken. Then he put on the boot and the woolen sock, being careful to tie it in front, over the instep, and whipping out his big handkerchief, he proceeded to bandage the ankle in a truly scientific way. "'Now, that messes, Henderson. You're all right to take the walk slowly, back to the hotel.' Parson Henderson took his wife's hand. "'Come on, Sarah,' he said, quietly helping her up. "'Oh, you are going over the mauve pas,' she cried, in distress at the thought of his missing it. "'Come, Sarah,' he said gently, keeping her hand in his. "'I'll go back with her, too,' said Little Dr. Fisher. "'Oh, Adorama,' explained his wife, but it was under her breath, and no one heard the exclamation. "'I think Dr. Fisher ought to go with the other party. He will be needed there,' Mrs. Selwyn was saying in her quiet way. "'And I will bathe Mrs. Henderson's foot just as he says it should be done. So, goodbye.' And anyone looking down, with a field-glass from the Mountain Bear Hotel, could have seen at this point two parties, one proceeding to the mauve pas and the chapeau, and the other of three ladies, the Parson, and a guide, wending their way slowly on the return across the crevice. End of Chapter 25. Chapter 26. Well, here we are in Paris. Notwithstanding all the glory of the shops, and the tempting array of the jewelry and trinkets of every description therein displayed, after a few days of sailing on the exquisite lake, and some walks and drives, Polly, down deep in her heart, was quite ready to move on from Geneva. And although she didn't say anything, old Mr. King guessed as much, and broke out suddenly, well, are you ready to start, Polly? Yes, Grandpa Pah, she answered. I have the presents for the girls. I'm all ready. Why, Polly, you haven't anything for yourself, Mother Fisher exclaimed, as Polly ran into her room and told the news, how Grandpa Pah said they were to pack up and leave in the morning. You haven't bought a single thing. Oh, I don't want anything, said Polly. I've so many things at home that Grandpa Pah has given me. Mamzy, isn't this pin for Alexia just too lovely for anything? She curled up on the end of the bed, and drew it out of its little box. I think she'll like it, with Anxious Eyes on Mother Fisher's face. Like it, repeated her mother. How can she help it, Polly? I think so too, said Polly happily, replacing it on the bed of cotton, and putting on the cover to look over another gift. Mrs. Fisher regarded her keenly. Well now, Polly, she said, decidedly. I shall go down and get that chain we were looking at, for you do need that, and your father and I are going to give it to you. Oh, Mamzy, protested Polly. I don't need it. Really, I don't. Well, we shall give it to you, said Mother Fisher. Then she went over to the bed and dropped a kiss on Polly's brown hair. Mamzy exclaimed Polly, springing off the bed, and throwing her arms around her mother's neck. I shall love that chain, and I shall wear it just all the time, because you and Papa Doctor gave it to me. When they neared Paris, Adela drew herself up in her corner of the compartment. I expect you'll stare some when you get to Paris, Polly Pepper. I've been staring all the time since we started on our journey, Adela, as hard as I could, said Polly, laughing. Well, you'll stare worse than ever now, said Adela, in an important way. There isn't anything in all this world that isn't in Paris, she brought up, not very elegantly. I don't like Paris. Tom let the words out before he thought. That's just because you are a boy, sniffed Adela. Oh, Polly, you ought to see the shops. When Mademoiselle has taken us into some, I declare I could stay all day in one. Such dreams of clothes and bonnets. You never saw such bonnets, Polly Pepper, in all your life. She lifted her hands, unable to find words enough. And the parks and gardens, I suppose, are perfectly lovely, cried Polly, feeling as if she must get away from the bonnets and clothes. Yes, and the Bois de Boulogne to drive in, that's elegant. Only Mademoiselle won't take us there very often. I wish I was rich, and I'd have a span of long-tail gray horses, and drive up and down there every day. Polly laughed. Well, I should like the tramways and the stages, said Polly. Oh, those don't go into the Bois de Boulogne, cried Adela, in a tone of horror. Why, Polly Pepper, what are you thinking of? She exclaimed. This nettle, Tom, of something besides clothes and bonnets, he broke out. Then he was sorry he had spoken. Well, there's the Louvre, said Polly, after an uncomfortable little pause. Yes, said Adela. That's best of all, and it doesn't cost anything. So Mademoiselle takes us there very often. I should think it would be, cried Polly, beaming at her, and answering the first part of Adela's sentence. Oh, Adela, I do so long to see it. And you can't go there too often, Polly, said Jasper. It's the only decent thing in Paris, said Tom, that I like, I mean. That, and to sail up and down on the Seine. We'll go there the first day, Polly, said Jasper. The Louvre, I mean. Well, here we are in Paris. And then it was all confusion, for the guards were throwing open the doors to the compartments, and streams of people were meeting on the platform, in what seemed to be inextricable confusion amid a babble of sounds, and it wasn't until Polly was driving up in the big cab with their part of Mr. King's family, as he called it, through the broad avenues and boulevards, interspersed with occasional squares and gardens, and the beautiful bridges here and there across the Seine, gleaming in the sunshine that she could realize that they were actually in Paris. And the next day they did go to the Louvre, and Adela, who was to stay a day or two at the hotel with them before going back into her school, was very important indeed. And she piloted them about, the parson and Mrs. Henderson joining their group, the others, with the exception of the little widow Gray, who stayed at home to look over Adela's clothes, and take any last stitches going off by themselves. I do want to see the Venus de Milo, said Polly, quite gone with impatience. Oh, Adela, these paintings will wait. Well, that old statue will wait too, cried Adela, pulling her off into another gallery. Now, Polly, Mademoiselle says, in point of art, the pictures in here are quite important. Are they? said poor Polly, listlessly. Yes, they are, said Adela, twitching her sleeve. And Mademoiselle brings us in this room every single time we come to the Louvre. It's the early French school, you know, she brought up glibly. Well, it's too early for us to take it in, said Tom. Come, I'm for the Venus de Milo. It's this way. And Adela was forced to follow, which she did in a discontented fashion. Oh, cried Polly, catching her breath, and standing quite still as she caught sight of the wonderful marble, instinct with life at the end of the long corridor below stairs. Why, she's smiling at us, as the afternoon sunshine streamed across the lovely face, to lose itself in the folds of the crimson curtain in the background. The parson folded his arms and drew in long breaths of delight. It's worth fifty journeys over the ocean to once see that, Sarah, he said. Do come back and look at the pictures, vegged Adela, pulling Polly's arm again after a minute or two. Oh, don't, exclaimed Polly, under her breath. Oh, she's so beautiful, Adela. Well, it's much better to see the pictures, said Adela, and then we can come here again tomorrow. Oh, I haven't seen this half enough, began Polly, and I've wanted to for so long. Then she glanced at Adela's face. Well, all right, she said, and turned off, to come directly into the path of grandpa with Franzi clinging to his hand, and the rest of his part of the family, standing in silent admiration. We thought we'd come here first, said old Mr. King. I don't mean to see anything else today. The Venus de Milo is quite enough for me. Tomorrow now we'll drop in again and look at some of the pictures. There is beauty enough in that statue, said a lady, who just passed them to the gentleman with her, to satisfy anyone. But living beauty, after all, is most appealing. Just look at that child's face, Edward. They were guilty of standing in a niche at a little remove, and studying Franzi with keen, critical eyes. It's a wonderful type of beauty, said Edward. Yellow hair and brown eyes, and such features. I don't care about the features, said the lady. It's the expression. The child hasn't a thought of herself, and that's wonderful to begin with. That's about it, replied Edward. And I suppose that's largely where the beauty lies, Evelyn. Let us walk slowly down the corridor again, said Evelyn, and then come up. Otherwise we shall attract attention to be standing here and gazing at them. And I'd like to see that little beauty again, remarked Edward. I'll confess, Evelyn. So Evelyn and Edward continued to gaze at intervals at the living beauty, and Mr. King and his party were absorbed in the marble beauty, and Adela was running over in her mind how she meant to have polypepper all to herself at the visit to the Louvre the next afternoon, when she would show her the pictures she especially liked. But they didn't any of them go to the Louvre that next day, as it happened? It was so beautifully bright and sunshiny, that Grandpa Pa said it would be wicked to pass the day indoors. So they had all the morning in a walk, and a sail on the Seine, and that pleased Tom, and all the afternoon, or nearly all, sitting up in stade and carriages, driving up and down the Bois de Bologna, and that pleased Adela. And when they tired of driving, old Mr. King gave orders for the drivers to rest their horses, and then they all got out of the carriages, and walked about among the beautiful trees, and on the winding, sheltered paths. It's perfectly lovely off there, said Polly, and almost like the country, with a longing glance off into the green, cool shade beyond. So they strolled off there, separating into little groups, Polly and Jasper in front, and wishing for nothing so much as a race. I should think we might try it, said Jasper. There is no one near to see. Come on, Polly, do. I suppose we ought not to, said Polly, with a sigh, as Adela overtook them. Ought not to what? she asked eagerly. Jasper and I were wanting to run a race, said Polly. Why, Polly Pepper, you are in Paris! exclaimed Adela, quite shocked. I know it, said Polly, and I wish we weren't. Oh, dear, this seems just like the country, and just then a child screamed. That's fronzy, exclaimed Polly, her cheek turning quite white, and she sped back over the path. Oh, no, Polly! Jasper tried to reassure her, as he ran after her. They were having their race after all, but in a different way from what they had planned. Dear me, you are running, said Adela, who hadn't got it into her head what for. As she didn't connect the screen with any of their party. And she walked just as fast as she could to catch up with them. As that was impossible, she gave a hasty glance around the shrubbery, and seeing no one to notice her, she broke out into a lively run. Yes, fronzy, grandpa was saying, as the young people had left them, and the others had wandered off to enjoy the quiet shady paths. This place was the old forette de rouvret. It wasn't a very pretty place to come to, in those days, what with the robbers and other bad people who infested it. And now let us go and find a seat, child, and I'll show you one or two little pictures I picked up in the shop this morning, and you could send them in your next letter to Joel and David, if you like, old Mr. King took out his pocketbook, and it just opened it when a man darted out from the thick shrubbery behind him, cast a long, searching glance around, and quick as lightning, threw himself against the stately old gentleman, and seized the pocketbook. It was then that fronzy screamed long and loud. What ho! exclaimed Mr. King, starting around to do battle, but the man was just disappearing around the clump of shrubbery. Which way! Tom Selwyn dashed up. It didn't seem as if fronzy's cry had died on her lips. Old Mr. King pointed without a word, and Polly and Jasper were close at hand. Polly flew to fronzy, who was clinging to Grandpa Pa's hand, and wailing bitterly. What is it? Oh, what is it? cried Polly. My pocketbook! said Grandpa Pa. Some fellow has seized it, and frightened this poor child almost to death. He seemed to care a great deal more about that than any loss of the money. Which way! cried Jasper, in his turn, and was off like a shot on getting his answer. Tom saw the fellow slink with the manner of one who knew the ins and outs of the place well, now gliding and ducking low in the sparser growth, now making a bold run around some exposed curve, now dashing into a dense part of the wood. I'll have you yet, said Tom, through set teeth. I haven't trained at school for nothing. A thud, a fast-flying feet in his rear, didn't divert him an instant from his game. Although it might be a rescue-party for the thief, in the shape of a partner, who could tell? And realizing, if he caught the man at all, he must do one of his sprints, he covered the ground by a series of flying leaps, dashed in where he saw his prey rush, one more leap with all his might, and— I have you! cried Tom. The man under him, thrown to the ground by the suddenness of Tom's leap on him, was wriggling and squirming with all the desperation of a trapped creature, when the individual with the flying footsteps hove in sight. It was Jasper, and they had just persuaded the robber that it would be useless to struggle longer against his fate, when the parson, running as he hadn't run for years, appeared to their view. And after him, at such a gait that would have been his fortune, in a professional way, was the little doctor. His hat was gone, and his toes scarcely seemed to touch the ground. He was last at the scene, simply because the news had only just reached him, as he sauntered leisurely up to meet Mr. King in his promenade. When the thief saw him, he looked to see if any more were coming, and resigned himself at once, and closed his eyes instinctively. He was a miserable-looking man, tall, thin, and stoop-shoulder, they saw, when they got him on his feet. Unkempt and unwashed, his long black hair hung around a face-sallow in the extreme. And he shook so, as Tom and Jasper marched him back, escorted by the bodyguard of the parson and the little doctor, that the two boys put their hands under his arms to help him along. Well, well, well, ejaculated Mr. King, as he saw this array. Polly gathered Franzi's other hand in hers, while she clung closer than ever to Grandpa. Here's your pocket-book, said Tom, handing the article over. He hasn't spent much. Don't, Tom, said Jasper, joke about it. Can't help it, said Tom. Well, now, shall we turn him over to the Sargent de Vieux? Turn him over, repeated Mr. King. I should say so, he added dryly, and give him the best recommendation for a long term, too. What else is there to do, pray tell? Grandpa! Suddenly cried Franzi, who hadn't taken her eyes from the man's face. What are you going to do? Where is he going? We're going to hand him over to the police, child, answered old Mr. King harshly, and as soon as possible, too. Grandpa, perhaps he's got some little children at home. Ask him, Grandpa, do. No, no, Franzi, said Mr. King hastily. Say no more, child, you don't understand. We must call the Sargent de Vieux. At the words Sargent de Vieux, the man shivered from head to foot, and wrenched his hands free from the boy's grasp, to tear open his poor coat, and show a bare breast, covered with little, apparently, but the skin drawn over the bones. He didn't attempt to say anything. Oh, my goodness! exclaimed old Mr. King, starting backward, and putting up his hands to his face to shut out the sight. Cover it up, man, bless me. No need to ask him a question. Why, the fellow is starving. His little children, four of them, his wife, all starving, had an habit to eat since he could scarcely say when. It seemed so very long ago since he had eaten last. It all came out in a torrent of words that choked him, and like the true Frenchman that he was, he gestured in a way that told the story with his face and his fingers, as well as with his tongue. A sergeant de Ville strolled by and looked curiously at the group, but as Mr. King met his eye coolly, and the party seemed intelligent, and well able to take care of themselves, it wasn't necessary to tender his services, if they were talking to a worthless vagabond. Huh. Very bad case. Very bad case indeed. Mr. King was exploding at intervals, while the torrent was rushing on in execrable French, as far as accent went. No one else of the spellbound group could have spoken if there had been occasion for a word. Then he pulled out the pocketbook again, and taking out several front notes of a good size, he pressed them between the man's dirty fingers. Go, and get something to eat," was all he said, and take care of the children. 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 Matt Sherman. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. And for the next few days, Franzi talked about the poor man, and wished they could see his children, and hoped he had bought them some nice things to eat, and worried over him because he was all skin and bones. Ah, the bones were real, even if the children aren't, Grandpa Pa would say to himself. Well, I suppose I've been taken in, but at least the fellow hasn't starved to death, and then off they would go, sightseeing as fast as possible, to take up the mind of Franzi, who watched for Grandpa Pa's poor man and every wretched creature she saw, and there were plenty of them, and then Adela went back to school, happy in the thought of the little pile of sketches she had to show as her summer's work, and with ever so many studies and bits to finish up under Mademoiselle's direction, and little old Mrs. Gray, breathing blessings on Mr. King's head, departed for her English country home. Now then, I have ever so much shopping to do, announced old Mr. King briskly, and I shall want you to help me, Franzi. I'll help you, Grandpa Pa, promised Franzi, well pleased and gravely set herself to the task. So they wandered away by themselves, having the most blissful of times, and coming home to the hotel, they would gaily relate to their adventures, and Franzi would often carry a little parcel or two, which it was her greatest delight to do, and then the trail of big boxes would follow them as they were sent home to the hotel to tell of their experiences in the shops. And Grandpa Pa is going to get me a new doll, announced Franzi, on one of these days. Do you mean a peasant doll to add to the collection, asked Polly? For old Mr. King had bought a doll in the national costume in every country in which they had traveled, and they had been packed away, together with the other things as fast as purchased, and sent off home across the sea. Yes, said Franzi, I do, Polly, and it's to be a most beautiful French doll, oh, and sure enough Mr. King, who knew exactly what kind of a doll he meant to purchase, and had kept his eyes open for it, stumbled upon it by a piece of rare good luck in a shop where he least expected to find it. Oh, may I carry her home, Grandpa Pa? begged Franzi, hanging over the doll in a transport. Please don't have her shut up in a box, but do let me carry her in my arms. Oh, Franzi, she's too big, objected Mr. King, and very heavy. Oh, Grandpa Pa, she's not heavy, cried Franzi, not meaning to contradict, but so anxious not to have her child sent home shut up in a box, that she forgot herself. Well, I don't know, but what you may, said Grandpa Pa, relenting. I will call a cab after we get through with this next shop, he reflected, and it won't hurt her to carry the doll that's short distance. So they came out of the shop, and deciding to take a shortcut, they started across the boulevard, he taking the usual precaution to gather Franzi's hand in his. As they were halfway across the street, with its constant stream of pedestrians and vehicles, a sudden gust of wind flapped the doll's pink silk cape up against Franzi's eyes, and taking her hand away from Grandpa Pa's a second to pull down the cape, for she couldn't see, she slipped, and before she knew it, had fallen on top of the doll in the middle of the street. A reckless cabbie driving as only a French cab man can, came dashing down the boulevard directly in her path, while a heavily loaded omnibus going in the opposite direction was trying to get out of his way. Ever so many people screamed, and someone pulled Mr. King back as he started to pick her up. It was all done in an instant, and every person expected to see her killed when a long gaunt individual in a shabby coat dashed in among the plunging horses, knocked up the head of the one belonging to the reckless cabbie, swung an arm at the other pair to divert their course, and before anyone could quite tell how, he picked up Franzi and bore her to the curb stone. Someone got Mr. King to the same point, too exhausted with fright to utter a word. When he came out of his shock, the shabby man was standing by Franzi, the crowd that saw nothing in the incident to promise further diversion, having melted away, and she was holding his hand, her little mud-stained face radiant with happiness. Oh, Grandpa Pa, she piped out. It's your poor man! The dickens it is, exploded Mr. King. Well, I'm glad to find you. Here, call a cab, will you? I must get this child home. That's the first thing to be done. The shabby man held a cab, but the cab man jeered at him and whirled by, so the old gentleman held up his hand. Franzi all this time, strange to say, not mentioning her doll, and Mr. King, who wouldn't have cared if a hundred dolls had been left behind, not giving it a thought. Now she looked anxiously on all sides. Oh, where is she, Grandpa Pa, dear? She wailed. My child, where is she? Never mind, Franzi, cried Mr. King. I'll get you another one tomorrow. There, get in the cab, child. But I want her. I can't go home without my child. And Franzi's lip began to quiver. Oh, there she is, Grandpa Pa, and she darted off a few steps, where somebody had set the poor thing on the pavement, propped up against the lamppost. Oh, you can't carry her home, said Mr. King, in dismay at the muddy object splashed from head to foot with the smart pink cape that had been the cause of the disaster now torn clear through the middle by the hoof of a passing horse. He shuddered at the sight of it. Do leave it, Franzi child. But she's sick now and hurt. Oh, Grandpa Pa, I can't leave my child, sobbed Franzi, trying with all her might to keep the tears back. All this time the shabby man stood silently by, looking on. A bright thought struck the old gentleman. I'll tell you, Franzi, he said quickly, give the doll to this man for one of his little children. They'll take care of it and like it. Oh, Grandpa Pa, screamed Franzi, skipping up and down and clapping her muddy little hands. Then she picked up the doll and lifted it toward him. Give my child to your little girl and tell her to take good care of it, she said. As Franzi's French had long been one of Grandpa Pa's special responsibilities in the morning hours, she spoke it nearly as well as Polly herself. So the man grasped the doll as he had seized the money before. And now, said Mr. King, you are not going to run away this time without telling me. Oh, bless me. This last was brought out by an excited individual rushing up over the curb stone to get out of the way of a passing dray. And the walking stick, which he swung aloft as a protection, coming into collision with Mr. King's hat, knocked it over his eyes. A thousand pardons, monsieur, exclaimed the Frenchman, bowing and scraping. You may well beg a thousand pardons, cried Mr. King angrily, to go about in this rude fashion through the street. A thousand pardons, repeated the Frenchman, with more on Pross Mall than before, and tripping eerily on his way. When old Mr. King had settled his hat, he turned back to the man. Now tell me, why? The man was nowhere to be seen. It surely does look bad, said the old gentleman to himself as he stepped into the cab with Franzi. That man's children are a myth, and I wanted to do something for them, for he saved Franzi's life. This being the only idea he could possibly retain all the way home to the hotel, he held her closely within his arm, Franzi chattering happily all the way, how the little girl she guessed was just receiving the doll, and wondering what name she would give it. And would she wash its face clean at once, and fix the torn and muddy clothes? Oh, yes, yes, I hope so, answered Grandpa Pa, when she paused for an answer. Jasper came running out as the cab drove into the court. Oh, he exclaimed, at sight of Franzi's face, then drove the words on his tongue back again as he lifted her out. Give her to Polly to fix up a bit, said his father. She's all right, Jasper, my boy. I can't talk of it now. Hurry, and take her to Polly. And for the following days Mr. King never let Franzi out of his sight. A new and more splendid doll, if possible, was bought, and all sorts and styles of clothes for it. Which Franzi took the greatest delight in caring for, humming happily to herself at the pleasure the poor man's little girl was taking at the same time with her other child. Grandpa Pa, she said, laying down the doll carefully on the sofa, and going over to the table where Mr. King had just put aside the newspaper. I do wish we could go and see that poor man and all his children. Why didn't he tell us where he lived? The dickens exclaimed old Mr. King unguardedly, because the fellow is an imposter, Franzi. He saved your life, and he seized Franzi and drew her to his knee. But he lied about those children. Oh, dear me, and he pulled himself up. Then he hasn't any little children, said Franzi, opening her eyes very wide and speaking very slowly. I don't know, stammered Grandpa Pa. It's impossible to tell, Franzi. But you don't believe he has any, said Franzi? With grave persistence, fastening her brown eyes on his face. No, Franzi, I don't, replied old Mr. King in desperation. If he had, why should he run in this fashion when I was just asking him where he lived? But he didn't hear you, Grandpa Pa, said Franzi, when the man knocked your hat off. Oh, well, he knew enough what I wanted, said Mr. King, who, now that he had let out his belief, was going to support it by all the reasons in his power. No, no, Franzi, it won't do. The fellow was an imposter, and we must just accept the fact and make the best of it, my child. But he told a lie, said Franzi, in horror, unable to think of anything else. Well, Mr. King had no words to say on that score, so he wisely said nothing. That poor man told a lie, repeated Franzi, as if producing a wholly fresh statement. There, child, I wouldn't think anything more of it, said Grandpa Pa, soothingly patting her little hand. Grandpa Pa, said Franzi, I've given away my child, and she's sick because she fell and hurt her. And there isn't any little girl, and that poor man told a lie. And she flung herself up against Grandpa Pa's waistcoat and sobbed as if her heart would break. Old Mr. King looked wildly around for Polly, and as good fortune would have it, in she ran. This wasn't very strange, for Polly kept nearly as close to Franzi in these days as Grandpa Pa himself. Here, Polly, he called brokenly. This is something beyond me. You must fix it, child. Why, Franzi, exclaimed Polly in dismay, and her tone was a bit reproachful. Crying? Don't you know that you will make Grandpa Pa very sick unless you stop? Franzi's little hand stole out from over her mouth, where she had been trying to hold the sobs back, and up to give a trembling pat on Old Mr. King's cheek. Bless you, my child, cried Grandpa Pa, quite overcome, so that Polly said more reproachfully. Yes, very sick indeed, Franzi, unless you stop this minute. You ought to see his face, Franzi. Franzi gathered herself up out of his arms, and through a rain of tears looked up at him. You sick, Grandpa Pa? She managed to ask. Yes, dear. Or I shall be if you don't stop crying, Franzi, said Mr. King, pursuing all the advantage so finely gained. I'll stop, said Franzi, her small bosom heaving. I really will, Grandpa Pa. Now you are the very goodest child, exclaimed Polly, down on her knees by Grandpa Pa's side, cuddling Franzi's toes, the very most splendid one in all this world, Franzi Pepper. And you'll be all well, Grandpa Pa? asked Franzi anxiously. Yes, child, said Old Mr. King, kissing her wet face, just as well as I can be since you are all right. And oh, Grandpa Pa, can't we go to Fontainebleau today, big Polly? Franzi, just think it will be precisely like the country, and we can get out of the carriages, and can run and race in the forest. Can't we, Grandpa Pa? All you want to, promised Grandpa Pa, recklessly, and only too thankful to have something proposed for a diversion. The very thing, he added enthusiastically. Now Polly and Franzi run and tell all the others to get ready, just as fast as they can, and we'll be off. Goodness me, Jasper, what makes you run into a room in this fashion? I have found him, exclaimed Jasper, dashing in, and tossing his cap on the table, and his dark hair back from his forehead. And he's all right, as straight as a dye, he panted. Now what in the world are you talking of, demanded his father, in extreme irritation? Can't you make a plain statement and enlighten us without all this noise and confusion, pray tell? Polly, who had Franzi's hand in hers just ready to run off, stood quite still with glowing cheek. Oh, I do believe. Grandpa Pa, it is, it is, she screamed suddenly. You're poor man, isn't it, Jasper, isn't it? She cried, turning to him. Yes, Polly, said Jasper, still panting from his run up the stairs, and do hurry, father, and see for yourself, and we'll all go to him. I'll tell you all about it on the way, when Mr. King comprehended that the man was found, and that he was all right, as Jasper vehemently repeated over and over. He communicated that fact to Franzi, whose delight knew no bounds, and in less time than it takes to write it, Tom, who was the only one of the party to be collected on such short notice, had joined them. And they were bowling along in a big carriage, Jasper as a guide, to the spot where the man was waiting. You see, it was just this way, Jasper was rapidly telling off. I was going down by the Madeleine, and I thought I would bring Franzi some flowers, so I stopped at the market, and I couldn't find a little pot of primrose as I wanted, though I went the whole length, and at last, when I had given up, I saw just one in front of a woman who sat at the very end. Do hurry, Jasper, and get to the conclusion, said his father impatiently. Polly dearly loved to have the story go on in just this way, as she leaned forward, her eyes on Jasper's face, but she said nothing, only sighed. Well, said Jasper, I'll tell it as quickly as I can, father, and there were a lot of children, father, all around the woman where she sat on a box, and she was tying in a bunch some flowers that were huddled in her lap, and the children were picking out the good ones for her. And just then, a man who was bending over back of them all, breaking off some little branches from a big green one, straightened up suddenly, and father, as true as you live, cried Jasper in intense excitement, it was your poor man. The children, asked Mr. King, as soon as he could be heard for the excitement, are all his, cried Jasper, and he took the money you gave him, and set his wife up in the flower business down in front of the Madeline. Oh, and Franzi the Dal you gave him was sitting up on another box, and every once in a while, the littlest girl would stop picking out the flowers in her mother's lap, and would run over and wipe its face with her apron. They were rarely on their way to see the little old Earl, after all. How it came about, Mr. King, even days after it had been decided, couldn't exactly remember him. He recalled several conversations in Paris, with Tom's mother, who showed him bits of letters, and one in particular that somehow, seemed to be very potent factor in the plan, that almost before he knew it, came to be made, and when he held out, as hold out he did against the acceptance of the invitation, he found to his utmost surprise, that everyone, mother Fisher and all, was decidedly against him. Oh well, he declared when that came out, I might as well give in grace while he first at last, and he sat down at once, and wrote a very handsome note, to the little old Earl, and that clinched the whole business. And after the week of this visit should be over, for old Mr. King was firmness itself, on not accepting a day more, they were to bid goodbye to Mrs. Selwyn and Tom, and chanted about a bit, to show little old England to the Henderson's, and then run down to Liverpool to see them off, and at last turn their faces toward Dresden, their winter home, and to my work, said Polly to herself in delight. So now here they were, actually driving up the entrance of the park, and stopping at the lodge gate. An old woman, in an immaculate cap, and a stiff white apron over her Lindsay Woolsey gown, which she had done for this occasion, came out of the lodge, and curtsied low to the madame, and held open the big gate. How have you been, Mrs. Bell? asked Mrs. Selwyn, with a kind smile, as the carriage paused a bit. Very well, my lady, said Mrs. Bell, her round face glowing with pride. And the Earl is well, bless him, and we're going to welcome you home again, and, Mr. Tom, and I'm glad enough to get here, Mrs. Bell, cried Tom. Now drive on, your fastest, Hubsen. Hubsen, who knew very well what Mr. Tom's fastest gate was, preferred to drive through the park at what he considered that dignified pace. So they rolled on under the stately trees, going miles, it seemed, to Polly, who sat on the back seat with Tom. He turned to her, unable to conceal his impatience. Anybody would think this pair were a worn-out old cobs, he fumed. Polly, you have no idea how they can go when Hubsen lets them go. What are you wasting all this time for, crawling along in this fashion, Hubsen, when you know we want to get on? Thus publicly addressed, Hubsen let the handsome bays go, as Tom expressed it. And they were bowled along in a way that made Polly turn into light to Tom. There, that's something like it, to clear Tom. Don't you like it, Polly, looking into her rosy face? Like it, cried Polly. Why, Tom, someone, it's beautiful. And these splendid trees, she looked up and around. Oh, I've never saw anything so fine. Oh, they're not half bad, Hubsen, Tom. And we have some more on the other side of the park, about five miles off that. Five miles off, cried Polly with white eyes. Is the park as big as that, Tom? He laughed. That isn't much. But you'll see it all for yourself, he added. Then he rushed off into wondering how his dogs were. And oh, you'll ride with a hounds, Polly. Just then some rabbits go right across the wood, and followed by several more, pattering and leaping through the grass. Oh, Tom, see those rabbits, cried Polly excitedly. Yes, the Warrens are over yonder, said Tom, bobbing his head in the right direction. What? Asked Polly in perplexity. Rabbit Warrens. I forgot you haven't lived in England. You seem so much like an English girl, though, said Tom, paying the highest compliment he knew of. Well, what are they, asked Polly? Quite overcome by the compliment coming from Tom. Oh, they are preserves, you know, where the rabbits live, and they are not allowed to be hunted here. Oh, do you hunt rabbits, cried Polly in horror, leaning out of her side of the big coach to see the scurrying little animals? Not often, said Tom. We mostly ride after the fox. You'll ride with the hounds, Polly, he cried with enthusiasm. We'll have a hunt while you're here, and we always wind up with a breakfast. You know, we'll have no end of sport. He hugged his long arms and huge satisfaction. In a way, in a way, over the winding road and underneath the stately trees rolled the big coach. To be followed by the other carriages, like a dream, it seemed, to Polly. And more than ever, when at last they stopped in front of a massive pile of buildings with towers and arches and wings. And the little old Earl was kissing her rosy cheek in the most courtly fashion. And saying, while he shook her hand and his long fingers, and how do you do, my dear? And Mrs. Helwin was by his other side. And Tom was reaching out, how do you do, Granddaddy? And then, oh, Eleanor and Mary, the two quiet, plain-looking girls standing in the background. And how do your kids, as the faces of his two small brothers appear? And Polly forgot all about the fact that she was in an Earl's house. And she laughed and chatted. And in two minutes, one of Tom's sisters was on either side of her. And the small boys in front. And the little groups were moving in and out of the old hall as grandpa and the rest came in. And the head housekeeper in a black silk gown that seemed quite able to stand alone and a perfect relay of stiff figures and livery were drawn up underneath the armors hanging on the wall. And the little old Earl worked his way up to her and he had grandpa on his arm. Well, I got him here, he said, with twinkling eyes and a chuckle. But the next morning, oh, the next morning, when Polly tried to compass as much of the thronging attractions as she could, and Jasper was at his wit's end, whenever he was appealed to, to decide what he wanted to do first, cricket, or punting on the river that ran through the estate or riding through the park, or to the village owned by his grandfather. I always go see the tenetry as soon as I get home, said Tom. Oh, then, let us go there by all means, said Jasper quickly. I mean, oh, I'm no end-awkward, exclaimed Tom, breaking off his face covered with confusion. It's not necessary to go at once. We can fetch up there tomorrow. Oh, let us do go, Tom, big Polly, clasping her hands. I should dearly love most of all to see the tenetry and those little deer cottages. And so that was decided upon. And Tom had his beloved hunt. Several of the dentry being asked, and Polly rode a special horse selected by the little old Earl himself. It's perfectly safe, he has an excellent disposition, he declared to old Mr. King. And he'll carry her all right. I'm not afraid, said Mr. King. The child rides well. So she must, so she must. I was short of it, cried the little old Earl, with a series of chuckles. And he busied himself, especially with seeing her mount properly when the party gathered on the lawn in front of the old hall. The hounds were baying and straining at Alicia's, impatient to be off. The pink hunting-coats gave dashes of color, as their owners moved about over the broad green sward under the oak, and Polly felt her heart beat rapidly with the exhilarating sights and sounds. It was only when they were off, and Tom, riding up by her side, expatiated on the glory of running down the fox and being in at the death that the color died down in her cheek. Oh, Tom, she said, raining in her horse. If he hadn't been the possessor of a good disposition, he certainly would have bolted in his disappointment at being pulled up so abruptly. It's so cruel to kill the poor little fox in that way. What exclaimed Tom? Not hearing the words, falling back to her side, consternation all over his face. Why, I never knew Meteor to break in this way before, he said. Oh, it isn't his fault, said Polly hastily, and patting her horse's neck. I pulled him up. Oh, Tom, it's also very cruel. Ah, said Tom, in a puzzled way, to kill the fox in his way, said Polly, her heart sinking as she thought how dreadful it was for her to object when visiting to anything her hosts might plan. Oh, dear me, and she looked so distressed that Tom turned comfort her at once. We all do it, he was saying, as Jasper wrote up. Anything to matter, he asked, in great concern. What's happened? Nothing, said Tom. Only Polly doesn't like the foxant. It's so cruel, cried Polly, turning to Jasper, with a little pink spot coming in either cheek. I ought to have thought of it before, but I didn't. It only seemed so very splendid to be rushing along with the horses and dogs, but to chase that poor fox to death, oh, dear me. Oh, we'll go back, said Jasper, Tom, and distressed. Don't be afraid, Polly. I'll make it all right with Granddaddy. He concealed, as best he might, his awful disappointment. As the echoes of the horns, the bane of the dogs, and now another scrap of chatter, or appeal of laughter, was born to them on the wind. Polly, said Jasper, in a low voice. It isn't quite right, is it, to disturb the party now? Just think. Tom will go back with us. The pink spots died out on Polly's cheek. No, Jasper, she said. It isn't right. Tom, you needn't say one word about going back, for I'm going on. And she gave the rain to Meteor and dashed off. We'll have a race through the park some day, Polly, called Tom, as he sped after her, without any fox. Too bad, Polly, you weren't in it, said the little old earl sympathizingly. Went at the hunt breakfast following, the brush dangled to a victorious young lady's belt had been admired as an extremely fine one. Never mind, butter luck next time, little girl. But to the fat, to the tenetry. Oh, that was something like, and more, to Polly's taste. When this annual affair postponed while Tom's mother and Tom were away, what days before, the preparation had been making the stewards up to their eyes and responsibility to carry out the plans of the little old earl, who meant, on this occasion, to outdo all his former efforts and show his American friends how an Englishman treats those under his care. Oh, the big joins of beef, the haunches of venison, the fowls, the meat pies, and the goose and berry tarts, the beer and ale, and the tea for the old women, with nuts and sweeties for the children. Oh, Polly knew all about it, as she went about with the little old earl, while he gave his orders, her hand in his, just as if she were no older than Fronze, and not such a tall big girl. And Mrs. Selwyn was busy as a bee, and Mother Fisher was just in her element here, in helping her, where flannel petticoats were to be given out, and stuffed rocks and pieces of homespun, and boots and shoes, as prizes for diligent and faithful service. Or, perhaps in order of coal for the coming winter, for some poor cottage, or packages of tea, or some other little comfort. And before any of them quite realized that the days flew by, and then two more of them, the king-party would be off. It's perfectly useless to mention it, said the little old earl, quite confident in his power to influence old Mr. King, to remain when he saw happily everything was running on. My dear son, you were asked for a fourth night, and I accepted for a week, retorted Mr. King. And I go when that time is up. We had a visit, I can't express it to you, what a fine time, as near to perfection, as it is possible for a visit to be. But, day after tomorrow, we surely must leave. Tom was so despondent, as well as the old earl. That it was necessary to cheer him up in some way. Just think what a splendid thing for us to be, in the midst of that fete with the peasantry, explained Polly, with sparkling eyes. It's quite too lovely for our last day. But Tom wasn't to be raised out of his gloom in this way. We've had only one game of cricket, he said miserably. And one afternoon at tennis, and we've been out punting on the river three times, said Polly. Only a bagatella snip, Tom, compared to what I meant to do. Well, let's have the race on horseback this afternoon, proposed Polly, down through the park, that you said you were going to have, Tom. Wouldn't that be nice? Do words, Jasper. It would be so capital, Tom. All right, has sent it, Tom. If you really rather have that than anything else. But it seems as if I ought to think of something more for the last afternoon. But the fete, and that doesn't count. Oh, nothing could be finer, declared Polly. So Tom rushed off to the stables to give the orders. And Polly on meteor was soon flying up and down with the boys. And Eleanor and Mary, and the two small lads, trotted after them on their shetland ponies, in and out of the winding roads of the park confines, without any haunting fear of a poor red fox to be done to death at the end. On the morrow, the sun condescended to come out all in his glory. Upon the groups of tenantry scattered all over the broad lawns, there were games in abundance for the men and boys, and others for the children. There were chairs for the old women, and long benches for those who desired to sit under the spreading branches of the great oaks to look on, and there were cups of tea and thin bread and butter passed around, by the white-cap maids, superintended by the housekeeper and the butler. Quite important in their several functions. This was done to appease the hunger before the grand coalition to take place later, and there was music by the fiddlers on the upper terrace, and there was, dear me, it would take too long to tell it all. And at last the order was given to fall into line, and march round the long tables, were splendid with their cold joints and hot joints, their pastries and tarts and cakes, and flagons of ale, and overall was a wealth of bloom from the old English gardens in the rear of the hall. The posies filled Polly with delight, as she and Tom's sisters and Franzi had gathered under them the direction of the gardeners in the early morning. And then, oh, best of all, Mrs. Selwyn had allowed her to give the finishing touches to them as they became the decorations for the feast. And the little old Earl called a large assemblage to order, and the vicar asked the grace, and the feast was begun. And then one of the tenants found his feet, and leaning on his staff, he thanked the Earl of Cavendish for all his goodness, and he hoped that there would be many blessings in the store for ims and ids, and sank on his bench again, mopping his face with his big red anchorure. And then the little old Earl responded in as pretty a speech as could well be imagined, in which he forgot nothing that he ought to say, and there were many God-blessings to follow it, and then there were cries of Master Tom, Master Tom, who appeared to be an immense favorite. And the Earl, well pleased, pulled him forward, saying, Go ahead, youngster, and give it to them. And Tom, extremely red in the face, tried to duck away, but found himself instead in front on the longest table with everybody looking at him. Then he mumbled out a few words and bobbed his head, and everyone was just as well pleased, and then they gave cheer on cheer for the Earl, and as many more for his oldest grandson. And then the little old Earl raised his hand and said, And now, my men, give a rousing good one for my dear American friends. And didn't they do it? On the following morning the old hall, with its towers and its wings, had only the memory of the happy week to sustain it. Jasper ran up to Polly on the deck. We ought to go, he said. The order has been given to leave the steamer. Yes, Polly, said Mother Fisher. We must go, child. Give my love to dear Grandma Baskham, said Polly, for about the fifteenth time. Oh, Mrs. Henderson, and don't forget to take the new cap just as soon as you can, will you? I won't forget, promised the Parsons wife. And take mine to dear Mrs. Beebe, begged Fonzie, twitching gently at Mrs. Henderson's sleeve, and tell her I got pink ribbon because I know she loves that best. I won't forget, said Mrs. Henderson again. Oh, and give the big handkerchief to my dear Mr. Beebe, said Fonzie. Please, Mrs. Henderson, to tie his throat up, and because, you know, he gets it so cold when he goes out. I'll remember every single thing, promised the Parsons wife. Don't you worry, children. Oh, how we hate to leave you. Only we are going to see our boys. We really are, Polly. And her eyes shone. Polly, Polly, cried Jasper. All off, who aren't going, roared the order out again. Polly, the little doctor, sees one arm in Fonzie's hand. There now, here you are. And whisk them off amid, goodbye, goodbye, and a flutter of handkerchiefs. I give my love to dear Grandma Baskham, piped Fonzie, on the wharf by old Mr. King's side, as the big steamer slowly pushed from its moorings. End of Chapter 28, recording by Kenneth Sergeant Gagan, Auburn, California. End of Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney.