is, he's bitten a hole in one corner, and got it all soiled and wet."
"An' you worked an' worked on dat ar pincushion," cried Candace, in a
loud, wrathful tone. "I can see you now, honey. Don' you 'member how you
brung it down here for Candace to match you some pink cord to go right
round de aidge?"
"Yes," said Polly, "I remember, Candace."
"An' don' you 'member how I matched dat pink ribbin? Laws, you'd 'a'
thought it was jus' made for it, wouldn't you now, Miss Polly?"
"Yes," said Polly, drawing a long sigh, "I should, Candace."
"An' dat orful ole brack monkey has done gone an' chewed up dat nice
little pincushion you made all alone by yourself, 'xcept such as I
helped you." Candace drew herself up to her full height. "Well, he ought
to hab eb'ry single one ob his teef pulled out," she declared, with a
bob of her head that nearly unsettled her turban.
"Oh, no, Candace," protested Polly, in a tone of horror.
"Yes, he had, honey," declared Candace, decidedly, "'cause don' you see,
he'll be a-chewin' up oder tings, like enough some o' Miss Phronsie's
dolls." With that the same scared look swept over her fat face, till it
looked quite gray again.
"Oh, Candace, we wouldn't ever let him do _that_!" cried Polly. And Ben
hastened to say, "See here, Candace, don't you be afraid; we'll look out
for those dolls."
"Will you for shore, Mas'r Ben?" cried Candace, grasping his arm with
both sets of black fingers, which sent the big horn thimble flying off
under the counter. "It would be mos' drefful if anyting should eber
happen to dem, 'specially to der ones I made fer de little miss. Why,
dey've got har jus' like my bery own." And she lifted one hand to point
to her gay turban with pride, then clutched his arm again, "An' I made
eb'ry stitch ob der cloes."
"You needn't worry, Candace," said Ben, quietly, "for I'll look out that
Jocko doesn't disturb those dolls."
"Shore?" cried Candace, surveying him with anxious eyes.
"Sure," said Ben, not taking off the gaze of his blue ones.
Candace's arms fell away to her sides. "Well, if yer promises me, Mas'r
Ben, I know it's all right. Now you mus' hab some candy sticks," and she
lifted off the cover of the big glass jar.
"I'll find your thimble first," said Ben, getting down on his knees to
lift the gay flowered calico curtain that hung from the counter-edge.
This was easier said than done, for the big horn thimble, now that it
had gotten away from Candace's black finger, decided to take a holiday.
So although Ben prowled and peered around amid the boxes and bundles
beneath the counter, he couldn't lay his hand on the runaway. Seeing
which, Polly decided to begin the trade by which she could be the
possessor of another little pincushion to take the place of the one just
spoiled by Jocko. So Candace handed down the box containing them, and
together they searched through it for something that would fit the need.
"I'm going to make Jasper another one, you know," said Polly, "but I
must buy him something to use right away."
"Well, I got some perfec' beauties," said Candace, lifting out a flaming
yellow one with great delight. "See dar now, Miss Polly, did you eber
know I had dat in my shop?"
"No," said Polly. Then she searched the corner of the box and pulled out
another, but it was a faded green one, very dismal, and quite tired
looking.
"Now dat was made out o' one ob my ole missus's bunnet strings," said
Candace, raising it with a quick hand. "It's a bery special ribbin. Ain'
dat fine, dough?" She balanced it on her black hand, lost in admiration.
"I don't believe I want a green one," said Polly.
"Don' you?" said Candace. "Well, now let's see, honey," but she was very
much disappointed, and set down the little green pincushion slowly by
the side of her yellow treasure.
Polly glanced up at her over the box-edge. "Candace," she said, "I
thought you had some _little_ cushions. You showed them to Phronsie once
for her dolls, don't you remember?"
"Oh, dem?" said Candace, wrinkling up her black face. "Why, they were
teeny little bits o' tings."
"Well, I've just thought I could sew two or three of them together,"
cried Polly, the color flying up into her cheeks, "and don't you see,
they'd be just as cunning. Oh, do look and see if you have any pink
ones."
So Candace, delighted to see that Polly could look so, waddled off to a
farther corner, and presently came back with another box, which when
opened showed three or four little cushions racing along at play inside.
"Dey ain' pink," said Candace; "I 'member I sold all o' dem."
"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, dreadfully disappointed, and seizing one
end of the box. "Let me look," and suiting the action to the word. "Oh,
yes, they are, as sure as anything, Candace; you have some pink ones."
"Shore, I hab," said Candace, quite as delighted.
"At least you have one, anyway," said Polly, her tone dropping some of
her elation. "Oh, how I do wish--why, there's another--pick it out,
Candace," she concluded in great excitement.
So the second little pink cushion was brought out and set on the counter
alongside of the first.
"Well now, how I do wish there was just _one more_, Candace," said
Polly, pushing up the damp rings of hair from her forehead, for it was
pretty anxious work, "for I can get along with three so nicely. But you
haven't another single one," she mourned.
"No, I hain'," said Candace, "an' dat am a fac'. But why couldn' you
take a white one, honey? Dat would look real nice," she added, holding
one up persuasively.
"Oh, I want a pink one," said Polly, not looking at the little white
one. "I did want three pink ones fastened together, Candace, they would
be so pretty."
"But if you hain' got 'em, why you hain'," said Candace, with decision;
"so what's de nex' bes' ting to do?"
"Oh, I suppose to take the white one," said Polly, turning away from the
box with a sigh. "But the pink one would be _so_ nice."
"An' you better not tink about de pink ones," said Candace, opening a
drawer to get out some soft paper, "but be glad you could get a white
one to mix in. S'posin' I hadn't had nothin' but green ones."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly. "Yes, I know, that would have been dreadful,
wouldn't it, Candace?"
"Dat's so," said Candace, smoothing out a wad of paper, "as long as you
don' like de green ones. But I tink dat one I made out o' ole missus's
bunnet strings is a perfec' beauty. Ole missus al'ays had de bery bes'
o' ribbin."
"Oh, I want some pink ribbon to tie the little cushions together with,"
said Polly, at the mention of ribbon. "And I must have some narrow
white, too, Candace, please."
"Well, I'm glad I found that thimble," said Ben, lifting a very red face
to the counter-edge, and presently getting up to his feet. "Here,
Candace, now don't let that run away from you again, that's my advice."
"Oh, Ben, how hot you are!" exclaimed Polly, as Candace received her
horn thimble, which she put on her black finger with great delight.
"I sh'd think I was. Never felt so hot in my life," said Ben, in such a
tone that Candace, who was rummaging for the narrow ribbon, could not
hear. "Whew!" and he began to walk up and down the small shop,
stretching his legs in great satisfaction. "Dear me, that feels good."
"An' now you mus' hab de candy sticks," said Candace, setting down the
little rolls of ribbon before Polly, then uncovering the glass jar
again.
"That's fine," said Ben, taking a cinnamon stick and crunching it in a
way to make Candace's round face beam with satisfaction. "You do have
such nice candy sticks, Candace."
"Don' I?" she said, wriggling in delight. "Well, now, take another,
Mas'r Ben."
"No, no," said Ben, "I've this big one," holding it up.
"Yes, you mus' take another," she urged, handing out the biggest stick
the jar contained.
"No," said Ben, much distressed, "not unless you'll let me pay you for
it, Candace."
But her black eyes fell so at the very thought of this, that he hastened
to add, "Oh, well, then I will take it and thank you, Candace," meantime
running his eyes over the little show case to see if there was anything
he wanted to buy.
"An' you must take a piece to Miss Phronsie, dat bressed chile," said
Candace, doing up another stick with Polly's, which there was no time to
eat in the shop, with such important business going on. And presently
Polly and Ben hurried out, Polly carrying her little cushions and the
ribbon, while a big bundle of a ball of twine and some pencils stuck out
of Ben's pocket.
"Well now, Polly Pepper, you and I must just hurry," said Ben, striding
off. "There's that Shakespeare book to get, and that red necktie."
"I know it," said Polly, setting quick little steps beside his long
ones, "and we mustn't be out late, because Jasper will wake up and might
want us."
"I don't believe Papa Doctor will let us up there to see Jasper again
to-day," said Ben, grimly, as he strode on.
"Why, we didn't hurt Jasper, being up there this morning," said Polly,
in a surprised tone; "Papa Fisher said so; you know he did, Ben."
"That may be," said Ben, "but all the same I don't believe we'll be
allowed up there again this afternoon."
"You know Papa Fisher said we had done Jasper good," persisted Polly,
trotting along briskly by Ben's side, "so there, Ben Pepper."
"I know that," said Ben, with a nod. "But Papa Fisher always lets well
enough alone. And you and I won't be invited up there again this
afternoon, I tell you that, Polly Pepper. All the same, we must hurry,
because Mamsie wants us home early."
"So she does," said Polly, almost breaking into a run.
"Hold on," said Ben, catching her sleeve, "don't race like that through
the streets; it isn't proper."
"I do so wish," said Polly, flourishing her little bundles, "that it was
ever proper to run in the street."
"Well, it isn't," said Ben, with a sharp eye for the bookstore they
wanted. "Well, here we are, Polly. Now for that Shakespeare book!"
When they marched home an hour later, Joel ran out of the big stone
gateway with Pip at his heels. The two Whitney boys and Davie were
making good time down the winding driveway.
"Whoop!" screamed Joel, "where've you been?" and beginning to swarm all
over them and seize their bundles, while Pip ran up to Ben and slipped
his thin little hand into the firm, big one.
"Hands off," cried Ben, "from those bundles, Joe!"
"Where've you been, and what've you got?" demanded Joel. Then, without
waiting for an answer, as the other boys were hurrying up and would let
out the news, he screamed, "All those mountain children are coming to
supper!"
"What?" cried Polly, standing quite still.
"Yes, and the old lady," cried Joel. "Every single one of them. You
needn't try to tell anything," to Percy and Van and David, as they
plunged up, all out of breath. "I told it all long ago."
XXI
THE POSTPONED CHRISTMAS MORNING
Well, the next day, what a Christmas it was to be sure! Jasper was to
come down in the morning to see all the fun of the last preparations, go
upstairs after luncheon to be a prisoner in his room and rest for the
grand dinner and tree in the evening!
All the boys in his set crowded in, pretty soon after breakfast, to the
big library.
"O me!" cried Alexia, running in and raising her long hands, "what _did_
make you come so early--the very idea!"
"Well, it seems you are here, Alexia," said Pickering, coolly, lounging
in one of the big easy-chairs.
"Oh, that's quite different," said Alexia, nowise abashed, "and you know
it, Pickering. Why, Polly needs me!"
"Does she?" said Pickering.
"Yes, of course; so I had to come."
Whereat Clare laughed, and one or two of the other boys joining in,
Alexia turned on them. "You've no idea how much work girls have to do.
Now, you boys don't lift a finger at any such a time as this."
"Don't we?" exclaimed Pickering. "Well, that's a fine thing to say."
"When we've been over here, at least Pick has, every day for a week, and
the rest of us ever so many times, helping Polly," cried Clare, in a
dudgeon.
"Oh, well, that was such a tiny little bit you could do, anyway," said
Alexia, airily, and tossing her long light braids. "The important parts
all have to be done by us girls. Boys are in the way!"
"Indeed! Well, why don't you go back and help Polly," retorted Clare,
"instead of staying here with us."
"Oh, I'm going," said Alexia. "I only came in to see what did make you
all come so early. Why, it's hardly after breakfast."
"Pick--oh, you here," Ben hurried in, and gave the long figure sprawling
in the easy-chair a clap on the back. "You're the very one Polly and I
want; and come on, you chaps," addressing the other boys, "there's a job
waiting for you all."
Pickering got out of his chair with a little laugh, while the other boys
roared.
"What's the matter?" asked Ben, in a puzzle.
"Oh, nothing," said Pickering, as he went out, "only Alexia is glad to
see us set to work."
"Yes, I am," said Alexia. Then she laughed, and ran ahead to get first
to Polly.
"There is always one good thing about her," said Clare, as the whole
group of boys tumbled promiscuously after, "she never minds when the
joke is against her."
"That's so," they nodded.
There, sure enough, was quite sufficient to do for all the hands that
appeared, as they soon found when they reached the busy playroom, where
the tree, all shrouded in white, was awaiting them. And pretty soon the
happy babel of voices kept time to the swift fingers as each boy took up
the piece of work that Ben or Polly gave to him.
Alexia seemed to be quite busy flying here and there, doing a little of
everything. "I'm glad you did come so early, Clare, after all," she
condescended to say, coming up to him in one of those flights, as he was
tying an extra rope of laurel.
"Thanks," said Clare. "Well, now, don't you suppose, seeing that you are
here, that you can hold that other end for me? 'Twould be a sight easier
to tie the thing."
"The very idea!" exclaimed Alexia, backing off. "Now that's just like a
boy. Why don't I ask you to come and help me tie laurel strips?"
"Because you never tie them, I've observed," said Clare, composedly.
"Well, it's because I have so many more important things to do," said
Alexia. "Anybody can tie a laurel string."
"Can they?" said Clare, laboring away slowly.
"Yes, indeed," and Alexia skipped off, turned, and flew back. "O dear,
do give me that old rope," seized the end, and flounced down on the
window-seat beside Clare.
"You needn't if you don't want to, Alexia," yet his face brightened. If
there was anything Clare hated to do it was to tie festoons.
"Oh, yes, I will," said Alexia. "You boys do anything without asking the
girls to help. Here, let me tie for a while, and you hold."
"Oh, you don't want to do that," said Clare, in amazement.
"Yes, I do; it's stupid to hang on to an old rope and sit still.
Besides, I can tie ever so much better than you," said Alexia,
possessing herself of Clare's handful.
"I don't doubt it," said Clare, bursting into a laugh, "though I never
saw you tie one in my life."
"Oh, that's because we have to leave something for you boys to do," said
Alexia, nowise put out, but tying away at a great rate. "Polly and I
have much more important things to do, as I've always told you. Here,
why don't you bunch for me?"
"But I've seen Polly tie wreaths and ropes ever so many times--oh, a
hundred, I guess," said Clare, beginning to bunch for the long fingers.
"Oh, well, Polly does everything," said Alexia, easily. "O dear me!
Here's Cathie--and--all the other girls!" With that down went the green
festoon to the floor, while she rushed to the door.
Clare picked up the dangling thing, made a grimace, and set to work
again, while the bustle and happy hum of voices became quite a babel.
"Now isn't that fine that you have come!" cried Polly, affectionately,
and flying around the bevy of girls. "You see we've got to hurry so much
because we want to get the new wreaths and festoons up before Jasper
comes down."
"So we'd better set about it," said Ben, in his practical fashion. "Now
then, Cathie, suppose you help Polly, she's--"
"Oh, no, I'm going to help Polly," cried Alexia, edging up between the
two girls.
"Why, I thought you were helping Clare a minute ago, and he hasn't
finished," said Ben, in surprise.
"Oh, that stupid boy," cried Alexia, running her arm through Polly's,
"he never will be done."
"Well, that's all the more reason why you should help him out then,"
said Ben, with a laugh. "Now, Cathie, you're to help Polly," he
finished, just as if the most agreeable thing were being said for all
hands.
Alexia gave him a long look, then drew her arm slowly away from Polly's
and went back to Clare.
"I don't see how Ben Pepper always makes us do what he wants us to," she
grumbled, throwing herself into a seat beside Clare. "Do give me that
horrid old thing and let's get through with it."
"Oh, are you back again?" said Clare.
"Yes, but I shouldn't be," declared Alexia, positively, and beginning to
bunch furiously, "if Ben hadn't made me. You are so stupid and slow,
Clare."
"Thanks," said Clare, tying slowly. "Well, don't throw the bunches at
me, they get all mixed up that way."
"And you are so cross," said Alexia, breaking off little twigs of the
laurel with nervous fingers, "that I can't suit you any way, and here I
am working my fingers to the bone for you."
"Would you rather tie?" asked Clare, trying not to laugh at her face.
Alexia eyed the long festoon with a dubious gaze. "No, I shouldn't. Oh,
I'll keep on at this if it kills me."
"Oh, Jasper!" It was Ben who shouted it, and sprang to welcome him. And
then, for the space of a minute, there was no more work done, while
everybody crowded around to see Jasper fixed in a big easy-chair at the
side of the long room, where he could get the best view of everything.
Suddenly a small figure emerged from a heap of greens in the corner,
where some thin little fingers had been picking out sprigs for the busy
hands to weave into wreaths.
"Hullo, Pip!" cried Jasper, putting out a warm hand, as Pip sidled up,
"now that's good to see you," throwing his arm around the thin
shoulders. "Having a good time, Pip?" and he bent his head for the
reply.
"Yes," said Pip, "I am."
"Now that's fine," declared Jasper, again. "Well, fly back to work," and
he gave him a pat on the back.
Pip sidled off again and lost himself in the pile of greens.
"Miss Polly, they've come," announced Jane, opening the playroom door,
and advancing to Polly.
"Who?" asked Polly, holding a wreath for Ben to nail up over the little
window--"not that way, a little more this other side," she said, as Ben
placed the nail in. "Who, Jane?"
"Why, those poor children at Mrs. Van Ruypen's," said Jane.
"What? Oh, you don't mean they've come this morning!" exclaimed Polly,
quite aghast, and dropping the wreath.
"Now something has happened," cried Alexia, dropping the little bunch of
laurel. "I must see what it is," and she sprang off.
"Polly, don't look so," she begged. "What is it?"
Ben sat down on the step-ladder, having heard Polly's exclamation, but
missing Jane's words. "What is it?" he asked.
"Oh, Ben, those dreadful children have come over this morning," cried
Polly, aghast and quite swept along, "to spoil all our fun."
Ben stepped down quickly. "Is that so, Jane?" he asked.
"They shan't come in," cried Alexia, vindictively, and running over to
slam the playroom door.
"Alexia," called Ben, "come right straight back here."
"Well, Polly doesn't want them," grumbled Alexia, yet she came back.
"Never mind if they do come in," said Ben, laying a soothing hand on
Polly's shoulder. "What harm will they do, Polly?"
"They'll spoil every bit of our fun," said Polly, with flashing brown
eyes--"every single bit; you know they will, Ben, and that Elvira--oh,
they _can't_ come in!"
"There, you see," said Alexia, beginning to wring her hands. "You'd much
better let me shut the door and keep them out, Ben Pepper."
"Polly," said Ben, and he turned her off to a quiet corner, "perhaps
they have never seen a Christmas tree. Why, what am I talking about?--we
_know_ they haven't."
"Well, they are coming to it to-night," said Polly, the flash dying down
a bit, "and that's enough, I'm sure," she added obstinately.
"But the fun of getting ready! Oh, Polly, supposing--supposing somebody
had come into the little brown house and asked us to come to help get a
tree ready. Just think, Polly!"
Polly dug the toe of her shoe into a heap of greens, then she suddenly
threw her arms around Ben's neck. "Oh, I'm a selfish pig, Ben," she
cried. "Do let them come in."
Ben gave her an approving pat. "Now you're fine!" he said. "Come on,
we'll call them in," taking her hand.
"Oh, now you've gone and made Polly let those dreadful children in,"
cried Alexia, nervously, envious that she was not to go too, as they ran
by her.
"Jasper," said Ben, as they passed his chair, "it's the mountain
children; they're waiting outside now. We're going to have them in to
help us."
"Whew!" whistled Jasper. Then he added in delight, "The very thing I
wanted most of all was to see those mountain children. Do hurry and
fetch them."
Which urging was not in the least necessary as soon appeared--Elvira, in
her smart blue gown, clear in advance of either Polly or Ben. She pushed
her straight locks out of her eyes and gazed around, wholly unabashed.
"Hulloa, Viry!" called Joel, in delight, from the other end of the room.
But she paid no attention to him, as she had not completed her gaze to
suit her.
"I'm awful glad you've come," said Joel, springing off the chair on
which he was standing, holding a festoon for Pickering to nail in place.
"Here, come back, you beggar," cried Pickering.
"We're having awful fun," announced Joel, coming up to her and sticking
out a grimy little paw, all resin and pitch from the branches of pine he
had been breaking. His face was smeared as well.
"You're awful dirty," said Elvira, picking the blue gown away as if she
feared contamination.
"Well, it's fun, I tell you," said Joel, not a whit nonplussed. "Come on
with me," attempting to draw her off to Pickering and the deserted
chair.
"I ain't a-goin'," said Elvira, twitching off. "An' I'll slap you if you
don't go 'way."
Meantime Ben had charge of the two boys. Matthew wore his overcoat and
beloved red tippet (which Madam Van Ruypen had hard work to make him
discard in the house) wound around his head and ears. "Now, Jasper," and
Ben led them up to the big easy-chair, "this is Matthew and this is Mark
Hansell."
"Oh, how do you do?" said Jasper, sociably. "I'm glad to see you."
Matthew bobbed his head, bound up in the red tippet, solemnly, but Mark
was too far gone in amazement at the scene before him to do anything but
stare.
"Now, Elvira," said Polly, going up to her, where she stood glaring at
Joel, who still persisted in his sociable advances, "you come with me,"
and she put out her hand.
"I ain't a-goin' to," declared Elvira, stubbornly, and putting her hands
back of her.
"Oh, you bad, wicked, awful girl!" cried Alexia, hovering near.
"Elvira," said Polly, and there was a little white line coming around
her mouth, "you will come with me, or else you must go home."
"Not to stay with that great big lady," said Elvira, in dismay, her
hands falling to her side and her face filling with terror.
"Yes, you surely must," said Polly, decidedly, "go right back and stay
with Madam Van Ruypen, unless you do as I say."
"Oh, then I'll go with you." Elvira slipped her hand into Polly's, made
a final grimace at Joel, who, dreadfully disappointed, went back alone
to Pickering.
"So this is Elvira," said Jasper, looking at her kindly. She didn't seem
to see the hand he put forth.
"What you sittin' there for?" she demanded abruptly.
"Oh--well--they make me," said Jasper, with a little laugh.
"He's been sick, Elvira," Polly made haste to say. "Now come, child, you
can help me."
"I don't want to. I'm goin' to stay here," said Elvira, laying a hand on
Jasper's chair.
"Elvira!" Polly got no further, but it really wasn't necessary, for she
went without further words.
"Polly, make her come over and help me," called Joel, from his chair.
"No, she is going to stay with me," said Polly, but she gave a sigh.
Pip, who had raised his head at entrance of the visitors, ducked it
behind the pile of greens at sight of Elvira. And now he shivered as her
thin, high voice piped out, "Where's that other boy?"
"The boys are all here," said Polly, absently, as indeed they were, even
little Dick, who was happy with Phronsie in a quiet corner, tying little
wreaths for one of her doll houses.