Five Little Peppers And How They Grew [24]
to let a crack of light in through the curtain," as the old green paper shade was called.
"No; if you're very hungry, you can eat bread," said Mrs. Pepper, sensibly.
"Joel," said Polly, after the mother had gone, "I do wish you could read to me."
"Well, I can't," said Joel, glad he didn't know how; "I thought the minister was comin'."
"Well, he was," said Polly, "but mammy said he had to go out of town to a consequence."
"A what!" asked Joel, very much impressed.
"A con--" repeated Polly. "Well, it began with a con--and I am sure--yes, very sure it was consequence."
"That must be splendid," said Joel, coming up to her chair, and slowly drawing a string he held in his hand back and forth, "to go to consequences, and everything! When I'm a man, Polly Pepper, I'm going to be a minister, and have a nice time, and go--just everywhere!"
"Oh, Joel!" exclaimed Polly, quite shocked; "you couldn't be one; you aren't good enough."
"I don't care," said Joel, not at all dashed by her plainness, "I'll be good then--when I'm a big man; don't you suppose, Polly," as a new idea struck him, "that Mr. Henderson ever is naughty?"
"No," said Polly, very decidedly; "never, never, never!"
"Then, I don't want to be one," said Joel, veering round with a sigh of relief, "and besides I'd rather have a pair of horses like Mr. Slocum's, and then I could go everywheres, I guess!"
"And sell tin?" asked Polly, "just like Mr. Slocum?"
"Yes," said Joel; "this is the way I'd go--Gee-whop! gee-whoa!" and Joel pranced with his imaginary steeds all around the room, making about as much noise as any other four boys, as he brought up occasionally against the four-poster or the high old bureau.
"Well!" said a voice close up by Polly's chair, that made her skip with apprehension, it was so like Miss Jerusha Henderson's--Joel was whooping away behind the bedstead to his horses that had become seriously entangled, so he didn't hear anything. But when Polly said, bashfully, "I can't see anything, ma'am," he came up red and shining to the surface, and stared with all his might.
"I came to see you, little girl," said Miss Jerusha severely, seating herself stiffly by Polly's side.
"Thank you, ma'am," said Polly, faintly.
"Who's this boy?" asked the lady, turning around squarely on Joel, and eying him from head to foot.
"He's my brother Joel," said Polly.
Joel still stared.
"Which brother?" pursued Miss Jerusha, like a census-taker.
"He is next to me," said Polly, wishing her mother was home; "he's nine, Joel is."
"He's big enough to do something to help his mother," said Miss Jerusha, looking him through and through. "Don't you think you might do something, when the others are sick, and your poor mother is working so hard?" she continued, in a cold voice.
"I do something," blurted out Joel, sturdily, "lots and lots!"
"You shouldn't say 'lots," reproved Miss Jerusha, with a sharp look over her spectacles, "tisn't proper for boys to talk so; what do you do all day long?" she asked, turning back to Polly, after a withering glance at Joel, who still stared.
"I can't do anything, ma'am," replied Polly, sadly, "I can't see to do anything."
"Well, you might knit, I should think," said her visitor, "it's dreadful for a girl as big as you are to sit all day idle; I had sore eyes once when I was a little girl--how old are you?" she asked, abruptly.
"Eleven last month," said Polly.
"Well, I wasn't only nine when I knit a stocking; and I had sore eyes, too; you see I was a very little girl, and--"
"Was you ever little?" interrupted Joel, in extreme incredulity, drawing near, and looking over the big square figure.
"Hey?" said Miss Jerusha; so Joel repeated his question before Polly could stop him.
"Of course," answered Miss Jerusha; and then she added, tartly, "little boys shouldn't speak unless they're spoken to. Now," and she turned back to Polly again, "didn't you ever knit a stocking?"
"No, ma'am," said Polly, "not a whole one."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Jerusha; "did I ever!" And
"No; if you're very hungry, you can eat bread," said Mrs. Pepper, sensibly.
"Joel," said Polly, after the mother had gone, "I do wish you could read to me."
"Well, I can't," said Joel, glad he didn't know how; "I thought the minister was comin'."
"Well, he was," said Polly, "but mammy said he had to go out of town to a consequence."
"A what!" asked Joel, very much impressed.
"A con--" repeated Polly. "Well, it began with a con--and I am sure--yes, very sure it was consequence."
"That must be splendid," said Joel, coming up to her chair, and slowly drawing a string he held in his hand back and forth, "to go to consequences, and everything! When I'm a man, Polly Pepper, I'm going to be a minister, and have a nice time, and go--just everywhere!"
"Oh, Joel!" exclaimed Polly, quite shocked; "you couldn't be one; you aren't good enough."
"I don't care," said Joel, not at all dashed by her plainness, "I'll be good then--when I'm a big man; don't you suppose, Polly," as a new idea struck him, "that Mr. Henderson ever is naughty?"
"No," said Polly, very decidedly; "never, never, never!"
"Then, I don't want to be one," said Joel, veering round with a sigh of relief, "and besides I'd rather have a pair of horses like Mr. Slocum's, and then I could go everywheres, I guess!"
"And sell tin?" asked Polly, "just like Mr. Slocum?"
"Yes," said Joel; "this is the way I'd go--Gee-whop! gee-whoa!" and Joel pranced with his imaginary steeds all around the room, making about as much noise as any other four boys, as he brought up occasionally against the four-poster or the high old bureau.
"Well!" said a voice close up by Polly's chair, that made her skip with apprehension, it was so like Miss Jerusha Henderson's--Joel was whooping away behind the bedstead to his horses that had become seriously entangled, so he didn't hear anything. But when Polly said, bashfully, "I can't see anything, ma'am," he came up red and shining to the surface, and stared with all his might.
"I came to see you, little girl," said Miss Jerusha severely, seating herself stiffly by Polly's side.
"Thank you, ma'am," said Polly, faintly.
"Who's this boy?" asked the lady, turning around squarely on Joel, and eying him from head to foot.
"He's my brother Joel," said Polly.
Joel still stared.
"Which brother?" pursued Miss Jerusha, like a census-taker.
"He is next to me," said Polly, wishing her mother was home; "he's nine, Joel is."
"He's big enough to do something to help his mother," said Miss Jerusha, looking him through and through. "Don't you think you might do something, when the others are sick, and your poor mother is working so hard?" she continued, in a cold voice.
"I do something," blurted out Joel, sturdily, "lots and lots!"
"You shouldn't say 'lots," reproved Miss Jerusha, with a sharp look over her spectacles, "tisn't proper for boys to talk so; what do you do all day long?" she asked, turning back to Polly, after a withering glance at Joel, who still stared.
"I can't do anything, ma'am," replied Polly, sadly, "I can't see to do anything."
"Well, you might knit, I should think," said her visitor, "it's dreadful for a girl as big as you are to sit all day idle; I had sore eyes once when I was a little girl--how old are you?" she asked, abruptly.
"Eleven last month," said Polly.
"Well, I wasn't only nine when I knit a stocking; and I had sore eyes, too; you see I was a very little girl, and--"
"Was you ever little?" interrupted Joel, in extreme incredulity, drawing near, and looking over the big square figure.
"Hey?" said Miss Jerusha; so Joel repeated his question before Polly could stop him.
"Of course," answered Miss Jerusha; and then she added, tartly, "little boys shouldn't speak unless they're spoken to. Now," and she turned back to Polly again, "didn't you ever knit a stocking?"
"No, ma'am," said Polly, "not a whole one."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Miss Jerusha; "did I ever!" And