Five Little Peppers And How They Grew [69]
go just once more!"
"Well," said Polly, who never could refuse her anything, "just once, Phronsie, and then you must stop."
So Phronsie kept on her way rejoicing, while Polly still sat on the lowest stair, and drummed impatiently on the stair above her, waiting for her to get through.
Jappy came through the hail and found them thus. "Halloa, Polly!" he said, stopping suddenly; "what's the matter?"
"Oh, Phronsie's been going so," said Polly, looking up at the little figure above them, which had nearly reached the top in delight, "that I can't stop her. She has really, Jappy, almost all the morning; you can't think how crazy she is over it."
"Is that so?" said Jasper, with a little laugh. "Hulloa, Phronsie, is it nice?" and he tossed a kiss to the little girl, and then sat down by Polly.
"Oh," said Phronsie, turning to come down, "it's the beyew-tifiest place I ever saw, Japser! the very be-yew-tiflest!"
"I wish she could have her picture painted," whispered Jasper, enthusiastically. "Look at her now, Polly, quick!"
"Yes," said Polly, "isn't she sweet!"
"Sweetr' said Jasper. "I should think she was!"
The sunlight through an oriel window fell on the childish face and figure, glinting the yellow hair, and lighting up the radiant face, that yet had a tender, loving glance for the two who waited for her below. One little foot was poised, just in the act of stepping down to the next lower stair, and the fat hand grasped the polished railing, expressive of just enough caution to make it truly childish. In after years Jasper never thought of Phronsie without bringing up this picture on that April morning, when Polly and he sat at the foot of the stairs, and looked up and saw it.
"Where's Jap?" called one of the boys; and then there was a clatter out into the hall.
"What are you doing?" and Van came to a full stop of amazement and stared at them.
"Resting," said Jappy, concisely, "what do you want, Van?"
"I want you," said Van, "we can't do anything without you, Jappy; you know that."
"Very well," said Jasper, getting up. "Come on, Polly, we must go."
"And Phronsie," said Van, anxiously, looking up to Phronsie, who had nearly reached them by this time, "we want her, too."
"Of course," said Polly, running up arid meeting her to give her a hug; "I don't go unless she does."
"Where are we going, Polly?" asked Phronsie, looking back longingly to her beloved stairs as she was borne off.
"To the greenhouse, chick!" said Jasper, "to help Turner; and it'll be good fun, won't it, Polly?"
"What is a greenhouse?" asked the child, wonderingly. "All green, Japser?"
"Oh, dear me," said Van, doubling up, "do you suppose she thinks it's painted green?"
"It's green inside, Phronsie, dear," said Jasper, kindly, "and that's the best of all."
When Phronsie was really let loose in the greenhouse she thought it decidedly best of all; and she went into nearly as much of a rapture as Polly did on her first visit to it.
In a few moments she was cooing and jumping among the plants, while old Turner, staid and particular as he was, laughed to see her go.
"She's your sister, Miss Mary, ain't she?" at last he asked, as Phronsie bent lovingly over a little pot of heath, and just touched one little leaf carefully with her finger.
"Yes," said Polly, "but she don't look like me."
"She is like you," said Turner, respectfully, "if she don't look like you; and the flowers know it, too," he added, "and they'll love to see her coming, just as they do you."
For Polly had won the old gardener's heart completely by her passionate love for flowers, and nearly every morning a little nosegay, fresh and beautiful, came up to the house for "Miss Mary."
And now nobody liked to think of the time, or to look back to it, when Phronsie hadn't been in the house. When the little feet went pattering through halls and over stairs, it seemed to bring sunshine and happiness into every one's heart just to hear the sounds. Polly and the boys in the schoolroom would look up from their books and nod away
"Well," said Polly, who never could refuse her anything, "just once, Phronsie, and then you must stop."
So Phronsie kept on her way rejoicing, while Polly still sat on the lowest stair, and drummed impatiently on the stair above her, waiting for her to get through.
Jappy came through the hail and found them thus. "Halloa, Polly!" he said, stopping suddenly; "what's the matter?"
"Oh, Phronsie's been going so," said Polly, looking up at the little figure above them, which had nearly reached the top in delight, "that I can't stop her. She has really, Jappy, almost all the morning; you can't think how crazy she is over it."
"Is that so?" said Jasper, with a little laugh. "Hulloa, Phronsie, is it nice?" and he tossed a kiss to the little girl, and then sat down by Polly.
"Oh," said Phronsie, turning to come down, "it's the beyew-tifiest place I ever saw, Japser! the very be-yew-tiflest!"
"I wish she could have her picture painted," whispered Jasper, enthusiastically. "Look at her now, Polly, quick!"
"Yes," said Polly, "isn't she sweet!"
"Sweetr' said Jasper. "I should think she was!"
The sunlight through an oriel window fell on the childish face and figure, glinting the yellow hair, and lighting up the radiant face, that yet had a tender, loving glance for the two who waited for her below. One little foot was poised, just in the act of stepping down to the next lower stair, and the fat hand grasped the polished railing, expressive of just enough caution to make it truly childish. In after years Jasper never thought of Phronsie without bringing up this picture on that April morning, when Polly and he sat at the foot of the stairs, and looked up and saw it.
"Where's Jap?" called one of the boys; and then there was a clatter out into the hall.
"What are you doing?" and Van came to a full stop of amazement and stared at them.
"Resting," said Jappy, concisely, "what do you want, Van?"
"I want you," said Van, "we can't do anything without you, Jappy; you know that."
"Very well," said Jasper, getting up. "Come on, Polly, we must go."
"And Phronsie," said Van, anxiously, looking up to Phronsie, who had nearly reached them by this time, "we want her, too."
"Of course," said Polly, running up arid meeting her to give her a hug; "I don't go unless she does."
"Where are we going, Polly?" asked Phronsie, looking back longingly to her beloved stairs as she was borne off.
"To the greenhouse, chick!" said Jasper, "to help Turner; and it'll be good fun, won't it, Polly?"
"What is a greenhouse?" asked the child, wonderingly. "All green, Japser?"
"Oh, dear me," said Van, doubling up, "do you suppose she thinks it's painted green?"
"It's green inside, Phronsie, dear," said Jasper, kindly, "and that's the best of all."
When Phronsie was really let loose in the greenhouse she thought it decidedly best of all; and she went into nearly as much of a rapture as Polly did on her first visit to it.
In a few moments she was cooing and jumping among the plants, while old Turner, staid and particular as he was, laughed to see her go.
"She's your sister, Miss Mary, ain't she?" at last he asked, as Phronsie bent lovingly over a little pot of heath, and just touched one little leaf carefully with her finger.
"Yes," said Polly, "but she don't look like me."
"She is like you," said Turner, respectfully, "if she don't look like you; and the flowers know it, too," he added, "and they'll love to see her coming, just as they do you."
For Polly had won the old gardener's heart completely by her passionate love for flowers, and nearly every morning a little nosegay, fresh and beautiful, came up to the house for "Miss Mary."
And now nobody liked to think of the time, or to look back to it, when Phronsie hadn't been in the house. When the little feet went pattering through halls and over stairs, it seemed to bring sunshine and happiness into every one's heart just to hear the sounds. Polly and the boys in the schoolroom would look up from their books and nod away