Five Little Peppers And How They Grew [38]
that's all."
"Oh, yes, ma'am," 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 the cakes with the heart-shape, and they II 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 started on a smart run to catch the stage, Prince scampering at his heels, they all began to sing his praises and to wish 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 at last Polly had to put Phronsie 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 sly 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 to judging him, children, till you know."
"Well, he promised," said Joel, as a settler.
"Aren't you ashamed, Joel," said his mother, "to talk about any one whose back is turned? 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 postmaster, called out, "Oh, halloa, 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 there might be sometime a 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 so many times wished for. That magic piece of white paper danced before the boy's eyes for a minute; then he said-- "It can't be for her, Mr. Atkins; why, she's never had one." "Well, she's got one now, sure enough," said Mr. Atkins; "here 'tis, plain enough," and he read what he had no need to study much as it had already passed examination by his own and his wife's faithful eyes: "Miss Polly Pepper, near the Turnpike, Badgertown'--that's her, isn't it?" he added, laying it down before Ben's eyes. "Must be a 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 'tisn'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. "Dear me! is anybody hurt, Ben?"
"I don't know," said Ben, in a state to believe anything, "but Polly's got a letter."
"Polly 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
"Oh, yes, ma'am," 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 the cakes with the heart-shape, and they II 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 started on a smart run to catch the stage, Prince scampering at his heels, they all began to sing his praises and to wish 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 at last Polly had to put Phronsie 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 sly 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 to judging him, children, till you know."
"Well, he promised," said Joel, as a settler.
"Aren't you ashamed, Joel," said his mother, "to talk about any one whose back is turned? 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 postmaster, called out, "Oh, halloa, 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 there might be sometime a 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 so many times wished for. That magic piece of white paper danced before the boy's eyes for a minute; then he said-- "It can't be for her, Mr. Atkins; why, she's never had one." "Well, she's got one now, sure enough," said Mr. Atkins; "here 'tis, plain enough," and he read what he had no need to study much as it had already passed examination by his own and his wife's faithful eyes: "Miss Polly Pepper, near the Turnpike, Badgertown'--that's her, isn't it?" he added, laying it down before Ben's eyes. "Must be a 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 'tisn'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. "Dear me! is anybody hurt, Ben?"
"I don't know," said Ben, in a state to believe anything, "but Polly's got a letter."
"Polly 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