Five Little Peppers And How They Grew [45]
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 Phronsie's turn, she protested that Polly, and no one else, must hold her hand.
"It's a dreadful hard name to write--Phronsie is," said Polly, as she guided Phronsie'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 'em up quick's you can, and I'll take 'em over to Deacon Blodgett's, for he's goin' 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 never'll 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 muss up a parcel so." And she gave a loving, approving little pat to the top of the package, which, despite its multitude of knots, was certainly very neat indeed.
Ben, grasping the pen again, "here goes for the direction.
"Deary, yes!" said Polly. "I forgot all about that; I thought 'twas done."
"How'd you s'pose he'd get it?" asked Ben, coolly beginning the "M."
"I don't know," replied Polly, looking over his shoulder; "s'pose anybody else had eaten 'em up, Ben!" And she turned pale at the very thought.
"There," said Ben, at last, after a good many flourishes, "now 'ti.s done! you can't think of another thing to do to it, Polly!"
"Mamsie, 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 Davie 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 Blodgett's.
The next day Ben came running in from his work at the deacon's.
"Oh, Polly, you had 'em!" he screamed, all out of breath. "You had 'em!"
"Had what?" asked Polly in astonishment. "Oh, Bensie, what do you mean?"
"Your flowers," he panted. "You sent some flowers to Jasper."
"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, Betsey was to set me to work. Deacon Blodgett and Mrs. Blodgett had started early, you know; and while
"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 Phronsie's turn, she protested that Polly, and no one else, must hold her hand.
"It's a dreadful hard name to write--Phronsie is," said Polly, as she guided Phronsie'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 'em up quick's you can, and I'll take 'em over to Deacon Blodgett's, for he's goin' 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 never'll 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 muss up a parcel so." And she gave a loving, approving little pat to the top of the package, which, despite its multitude of knots, was certainly very neat indeed.
Ben, grasping the pen again, "here goes for the direction.
"Deary, yes!" said Polly. "I forgot all about that; I thought 'twas done."
"How'd you s'pose he'd get it?" asked Ben, coolly beginning the "M."
"I don't know," replied Polly, looking over his shoulder; "s'pose anybody else had eaten 'em up, Ben!" And she turned pale at the very thought.
"There," said Ben, at last, after a good many flourishes, "now 'ti.s done! you can't think of another thing to do to it, Polly!"
"Mamsie, 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 Davie 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 Blodgett's.
The next day Ben came running in from his work at the deacon's.
"Oh, Polly, you had 'em!" he screamed, all out of breath. "You had 'em!"
"Had what?" asked Polly in astonishment. "Oh, Bensie, what do you mean?"
"Your flowers," he panted. "You sent some flowers to Jasper."
"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, Betsey was to set me to work. Deacon Blodgett and Mrs. Blodgett had started early, you know; and while