to a little tin cup the rag-man had presented her on his last
visit. "I'm going to pick ever and ever so many, to carry home
to my Mamsie."
"So you shall," cried Polly, rapturously; "and, children, I
never saw anything so perfectly beautiful as it is this
afternoon! Isn't the sky blue!"
Little David looked up and smiled. Joel threw back his head and
squinted critically. "I wish I could go sailing up there on that
cloud," he said.
"I don't," said Polly, merrily, swinging her tin pail. "I'd
rather be down here and going blackberrying with you children.
Well, come on, we ought to hurry, 'cause we want to take home as
many as we can."
"You're always hurrying us, Polly Pepper," grumbled Joel,
lagging behind. "What for, if we can't have any pie?"
"Well, we can carry home the berries to Mamsie, anyway," said
Polly, moving on very fast. Phronsie trotted after her with a very
happy face.
"Now, children," said Polly, when they reached the place where
the bars were to be taken down, "we must keep together, and not
straggle off. Remember, Joe; then when we're ready to go home,
it won't be such a piece of work to get started."
Joel was already pulling at the bars. "Come on, Dave, and help,"
he called.
"We'll go right across this corner," said Polly, when the bars
were put back, and they were on the other side, "and then, says
I, we'll soon be at the blackberry patch. O my, just see that
bird!"
"Polly's always stopping to look at birds," said Joel.
"I like 'em, too," said David. "And that one is just beautiful."
"It's just beautiful," hummed Phronsie, who wanted to stop every
moment and pick clover blossoms, or the big waving green grasses.
"Well, come on, Pet," said Polly, seeing this, "or we shan't
ever get to the blackberry patch; and then, says I, what would
Mamsie ever do for her berries!"
At this, such a dreadful distress seized the whole bunch of
little Peppers, that they one and all scuttled as fast as they
could through the long grass, Phronsie not looking back once to
pick a single blossom; and Polly presently had her company all
marshalled up in good order in a perfect thicket of blackberry
bushes, where the berries hung as thick and ripe as could be.
For a few minutes no one spoke; the big blackberries tumbling
into the tin pails making the only noise, though Phronsie
dropped hers into the grass as often as she put one in her
little cup. And they worked so fast, that no one noticed that
Polly's blue sky was getting overcast by white patches of puffy
clouds that looked as if they were chasing each other. At last
Joel said, "Ow!" and began to complain that he was all scratched
up by the prickly bushes, and when Phronsie heard that, she set
down her tin cup and held up her fat little arms. "See, Polly,"
she said gravely.
"O dear me, now that's too bad, Pet!" So Polly had to come out
from her nice little clump where she was picking fast, and kiss
the little red marks on Phronsie's arms. "Now don't lean in the
bushes again; I'll show you a place. There," and Polly pointed
to some low branches that stood out; and the blackberries on
them were thick and ripe.
"Ooh!" said Phronsie, when she saw them; and she forgot all
about her arms, that prickled and ached, and Polly flew back to
her clump again.
Rumble--rumble! "Oh, boys!" gasped Polly, "there can't be a
thunder-storm coming!" and she poked her head out from her clump,
and stared up at the sky in dismay. "There surely is! Now we
must run home like everything." She skipped out and seized
Phronsie's arm. "Come, Pet," and not stopping to look, she set
out upon a run. Phronsie began to wail, and then pulled back.
"I've left my cup, Polly," she said.
"Didn't you bring it?" cried Polly, pausing a minute. "Boys," as
she saw that they hadn't started, "come this minute, and bring
Phronsie's cup," she screamed. "Now come on, child; they run so
much faster they will soon overtake us."
Phronsie, with her mind at rest about her cup, kept up as well as
she could by Polly's side. "I guess I shall have to carry you,"
at last said Polly, as the boys came rushing up in high glee
over their dash across the meadow.
"Where's my cup?" asked Phronsie, holding out eager hands.
"Here," said Joel, thrusting it at her. "Now come on, Dave,
let's see who will get to the bars first."
Phronsie peered within the tin cup. "Why--where--" she began.
Then she turned two big sorrowful eyes up toward Polly. "They
aren't there," she said.
"What--the berries? Oh, never mind, Pet, you shall have some of
mine," said Polly, whose only thought was how to get home as
quickly as possible. "Goodness me, child!" as a raindrop
splashed on her nose. "I really shall have to carry you," and
Polly picked her up, and tried to hurry over the ground.
"But they won't be mine I picked," wailed Phronsie. "Polly, I
want my very own."
"Well, the boys spilled 'em, I s'pose," said Polly, staggering
on, her own tin pail swinging from her arms, while Phronsie grew
heavier and heavier every minute, and the clouds blacker and
blacker. "Dear me, I didn't think it was so far across this meadow!"
when suddenly Joel screamed out, "Oh, Polly, he's coming!" and
there, from the further corner of the field, was walking quite smartly
a bull, and he was looking straight at her and Phronsie.
"I mustn't run," said Polly; "Mamsie said once, I remember, I
must look straight at any cross animal, and not let 'em see that
I was afraid." So she set Phronsie down on the ground. "Now, Pet,
don't run, but walk to Joel as fast as you can," for Joel and
David were over the bars, which they hadn't taken the trouble to
take down for themselves, intending to do it for Polly and
Phronsie when they should come up.
Phronsie set off at once, since Polly had told her to do so, and
was soon nearly at the bars. Joel sprang over to meet her.
"Don't run, Joe," called Polly, in a warning voice; "just take
her over the bars." Then she slowly went backward, keeping her
brown eyes fastened on the bull, who still walked toward her,
with his eyes fixed on her face.
Joel got Phronsie safely over the bars, David, with trembling
fingers, pulling her from the other side, and all was going on
well when Polly stepped backward into a little gully, and over
she went in a heap. In a minute, the bull tossed his head and
quickened his pace, and by the time she was up on her feet,
he was coming on toward her at a trot, and with an angry light
in his eyes.
All of a sudden, Joel shot past her. "I'll stop him, Polly," he
said cheerily, and he dashed in between her and the bull, who,
not liking this interference, now shook his head angrily. Joel
then turned off, and the animal went after him.
"Joel, you'll be killed!" cried Polly, rushing after him, to
make the bull turn from the chase. But it was useless; for both
were now well across the field, Joel running like wildfire, and
the bull snorting and kicking up the ground in his rage after
him. And Polly, straining her eyes, pretty soon saw Joel turn
swiftly and duck, and the bull run with full force against a
tree, before he could stop himself. And there was Joel clambering
over a high stone wall. Then she started and rushed for the high
bars, climbed them in a flash, and when the disappointed bull came
running back, there she was, with the other two, huddled up in
a place of safety. And in a minute Joel scrambled around from
his stone wall. So there they were, all together, safe and sound!
"Oh, Joel, are you really here?" exclaimed Polly, laughing and
crying over him together.
"Yes," said Joel, "I am, Polly;" then he looked up from her arms
that she had thrown around his neck. "You've lost your berries,
Polly Pepper, and the tin pail. Now what will Mamsie say?"
"I guess she won't say anything," said Polly, with a little
shiver. "Come, children, we must run, now, as fast as we can,
for it is going to rain like everything."
"Joey," said Polly, when they paused a moment to take breath,
"you must give Phronsie some of your berries when we get home;
that's a good boy, for I promised her some of mine. Hers got
spilt, and now I haven't any."
"Well, mine shook out of the pail," said Joel, dismally, "when I
swung it at that old bull's face."
"I'll give her mine," declared Davie. "You shall have 'em all,
Phronsie."
Phronsie, at that, could not express her delight, but she clasped
her hands, and gave a great sigh of satisfaction.
When they all reached home, there was Mamsie watching for them
anxiously. And they all scampered in out of the rain like so
many rabbits.
"Children, I've got such a surprise for you," said Mother Pepper,
as soon as she could take off the wet clothes from Phronsie, and
get her into something dry. "Now, you all better get your things
off, and hang 'em to dry by the stove, and get on some clean
clothes."
"I ain't wet, and we haven't got any berries, 'cept Dave, an' he
gave 'em to Phronsie," said Joel. "They all got shook out of the
pails, Polly's and mine did, when the bull chased us."
"When the bull chased you!" repeated Mrs. Pepper, while her
black eyes roved from one to the other.
"Oh, Joel, don't tell Mamsie this way," said Polly, pulling his
jacket. "Besides, Phronsie doesn't know what we ran for."
"David," said Mrs. Pepper, "take Phronsie into the bedroom and
shut the door. Now then, Polly and Joel, tell me all about it,
every word."
So they did, not sparing themselves a bit of the account, Joel
cutting in when he thought Polly didn't tell enough what she did.
"But oh, Mamsie, you can't think how splendid Joe was!" cried
Polly, with shining eyes; "he couldn't have done better if he'd
had a sword and gun." Then she told it all over--his part--dilating
at great length upon it, until Joel got down on the floor and
rolled and kicked in dismay, because he couldn't stop her.
"Make her stop, Mamsie," he howled.
"And oh, when Ben comes home, won't I have a splendid story to
tell him!" finished Polly. "How I wish he'd come now," and the
queerest thing was, the door opened, and in he walked.
"I got through earlier than I expected," he said. "Why, what
makes you all look so queer?"
"We've had enough to make us look queer," answered Mrs. Pepper.
Her eyes shone too! "Polly will tell you," she added.
So Polly, glad enough to tell the story, went over it all, bit
by bit. When she came to Joel's part, Ben seized him from off
the floor. "See here, I'll give you a ride, Joe, in honor of
it," and setting him on his shoulder, Ben pranced around and
around the old kitchen, till Joel screamed with delight.
"I tell you what, that was fine!" declared Ben, and his eyes
shone too. Then Phronsie drummed on the bedroom door, and begged
to be let out, in spite of all that Davie could do to stop her.
"Do run and let her out, and Davie, too," said Mrs. Pepper,
quite as excited as either Polly or Ben.
"I'll go," said Joel, flying off with alacrity. So Phronsie and
David came running in, well pleased to be once more in the midst
of things; and then it was time for supper, and all the while
she was laying the cloth and getting out the dishes, Polly was
looking at Joel, and her brown head went up proudly, and every
once in a while she would run over and drop a kiss on his stubby
hair.
And when Davie went up to the loft back of him that night, as
they were going to bed, Joel turned around on the upper stair.
"We'll play bull to-morrow, Dave," he said.
"No, I don't want to," said little Davie, with a shiver.
"Pooh! I do; it's splendid! You may be the bull, if you want
to," said Joel, generously.
"I don't want to," protested Davie, fretfully, and hurrying off
his clothes, to tuck into bed, where he huddled down.
"Well, you've got to," said Joel, determinedly, giving his
jacket a fling to the corner, "'cause if you don't, I'll be the
bull, and chase you just awful. So there now, Dave Pepper!"
But Davie was spared that tribulation, for when the next day
came, Mrs. Pepper had so much work for them all to do, that the
chase dropped entirely out of Joel's mind, even if he had a
moment in which to accomplish it. The great surprise that Mrs.
Pepper had told them of, now came out, everybody being so full
of the adventure with the bull, that it completely crowded out
everything else.
"Now you can't guess," said Mrs. Pepper, smiling at them all,
when she had repeated, "such a surprise, children," "so I might
as well tell you. It was--"
"Oh, Mammy, let us guess," howled Joel. "I know--it is a horse!
Somebody's given you one."
A perfect shout greeted this, but Joel was in no wise dashed. "I
don't care," he said, "that would be a surprise."
"Yes, I think it would be," laughed Ben. "Guess again, Joe, and
don't give such a wild one."
"Then I guess it's some candy," said Joel, coming down with a
long jump to a possibility; "and do give us some right away."
"No, it isn't candy," said Mrs. Pepper, smiling at him.
"Then I don't care what it is," declared Joel, turning off
indifferently; "and say, Polly, what have you got for breakfast?"
"The same as ever," said Polly, with only half an ear for him,
her mind being intent on the splendid surprise; "you know, Joel;
what makes you ask?"
"Mean old breakfast!" said Joel, with a grimace. "Polly, why
don't we ever have anything but mush?"
"You know that too, Joe," said Polly, with a cold shoulder for
him. "Do let me be, I want to guess Mamsie's surprise. O dear me!
whatever can it be?" She wrinkled up her brows, and lost herself
in a brown study.
"I guess I know," said Ben, slowly, after a good look at Mrs.
Pepper's face.
"What?" roared Joel, interested again, since Ben had guessed it.
"It's blackberries," answered Ben, with a shrewd nod of his head.
"Isn't it, Mamsie?"
"Yes, it is," said Mrs. Pepper; "you've guessed it, sure enough,
Bensie."
"Hoh--old blackberries!" cried Joel, dreadfully disappointed,
and falling back to the other corner.
"The blackberries aren't to be ours," said Mrs. Pepper; "that
is--"
"Not to be ours," repeated the children together, while even Ben
looked surprised.
"No." Mrs. Pepper laughed outright to see their faces. "You
can't guess," she said again, "so I'll tell you. Mrs. Brown is
sick, and I'm to make her blackberry jell over here; and she's
given me some sugar, besides the pay she'll give me, so now we
can have our pie."
There was a perfect babel at this, the five little Peppers
having always before them the hope of some day hearing their
mother say they should have a blackberry pie--to make up for not
being able to accomplish the chicken pie that Polly and all the
others had so longed for--and which was quite beyond their
expectations. Now the blackberry pie was really coming!
"Make it now. Make it now, Mamsie, do," begged Joel, his mouth
watering.
"Goodness me!" exclaimed Polly; "why, it's before breakfast, Joe.
The idea of teasing Mamsie to do it now."
"And I can't do it just after breakfast, either," said Mrs.
Pepper, "for I must begin as soon as I can on the jell, and you
must all help me. There is ever so much you can all be useful in,
about making jell. All but Ben, he's got to go to work, you
know."
"When will you make the pie, then?" cried Joel, trying to
smother his disappointment, and finding it hard work to do so.
"Just as soon as ever this jell is done and out of the way,"
said Mother Pepper, in her cheeriest tones. "So, Polly, fly at
getting the breakfast ready, and when that's eaten, we'll all,
except Ben, tackle the jell."
When the dishes were all cleared off, and Polly was washing them,
Mrs. Pepper turned to Joel. "Run over to Mrs. Brown's now, Joe,
and get her kettle."
"What kettle?" asked Joe, who didn't relish being turned out
of the kitchen in all the bustle of getting ready for the jelly-making.
"The preserve-kettle," answered Mrs. Pepper. "She'll tell you
where 'tis. I told her I'd send you over for it. And be real
still, Joe, and don't ask her questions, 'cause she's miserable,
and is in for a long sick spell if she doesn't look out."
So Joel went off, wishing there weren't any such things in the
world as preserve-kettles, and presently, back he came, dragging
it after him "bump-bump."
"Oh, Joe," cried Mrs. Pepper, in dismay, "how could you!"
"I don't b'lieve he's hurt it, Mamsie," said Polly, running up
to examine the kettle closely; "he couldn't, could he? it's all
iron."
"No, I don't suppose he could really hurt it any," said Mrs.
Pepper, "but he oughtn't to drag it along and bump it. Things
that don't belong to us should be handled extra carefully. Well
now, Joe, set down the kettle, and go and wash your hands, you
and Davie, and then come back and pick over these blackberries,
and Polly'll take hold as soon as she gets through with the
work."
"O dear, I don't want to pick over old blackberries," whined
Joel.
"Then I suppose you don't care for any of the pie when it's
baked," said his mother, coolly; "folks who can't help along in
the work, shouldn't have any of the good things when they're
passed around."
"Oh, yes, I do want some pie," declared Joel, vehemently. "Dave
and me both want some; don't we, Dave?"
"Yes, I do," said little Davie, "very much indeed, Mamsie."
"And I want some pie," echoed Phronsie, hearing the last words,
and smoothing down her pink apron.
"So you shall have, Phronsie," promised Mrs. Pepper, "and so
shall every one of you who's glad to work, and be useful."
"We'll be useful and work," cried Joel, tumbling out into the
woodshed to wash up. "Come on, Dave; then we'll get our pie when
it's baked."
XXIV
HOW JOEL STARTED THE FIRE
"Now," said Polly, to the old stove, "just remember how you
acted that day when Mamsie made Mrs. Brown's jelly!" She was
standing in front of it, and she drew herself up very straight.
"You ought to be ashamed, you naughty thing, you! to make such
trouble. Now I've stuffed you up all good and nice in the holes,
and when I come home I'll build a fresh fire, and then, says I,
you've got to bake a whole batch of bread just as nice!" and
Polly shook her brown head very decidedly, and whirled off to
the bedroom door. "Come, Phronsie," she called, "hurry up, Pet.
O dear me!" Phronsie still sat on the floor by the big bureau,
with one red-topped shoe in her hand, and patting it.
"The other one is on, Polly," said Phronsie, as she saw Polly's
face; "truly it is," and she stuck one foot out.
"I sh'd think it was," laughed Polly; "every button is in the
wrong button-hole, Phronsie."
Phronsie looked at the little shoe very gravely, then her lip
quivered.
"Deary me, that's no matter," exclaimed Polly. "We'll have that
all right in a twinkling." So she sat down on the floor, and
took Phronsie's foot in her lap, and unbuttoned and buttoned up
the shoe. "There now, that's done as spick-span as can be."
"What is 'spick-span,' Polly?" said Phronsie.
"Oh, nice--just right. Dear me, it means ever so many things,"
said Polly, with a little laugh. "Now then, let's have the other
shoe on," and she held out her hand for it.
"Let me put it on," cried Phronsie, and drawing it back in alarm;
"let me, Polly, oh, I want to put it on my very own self, I do!"
"Well, so you shall," promised Polly, "if you'll hurry, for you
know I've got to bake my bread when I get back."
"Isn't there any bread?" asked Phronsie, drawing on the little
shoe, and pausing, lost in thought, when it was half on.
"Yes, just enough to last till I get the new loaves baked," said
Polly, longing to give the shoe a twitch and expedite matters;
"that is, I think so. I never know how much Joel will eat."
"O dear me!" exclaimed Phronsie, much troubled.
"See here now, Pet," cried Polly, decidedly, "if you don't pull
on that shoe quickly, I shall have to do it, for we must start--"
which had the effect to make the little red-topped shoe slip on
to Phronsie's fat foot in a trice.
"Now then, we're ready," said Polly at last, tying on Phronsie's
pink sunbonnet. "Come, Phronsie," and she took her hand. "Joel,"
she called, as they went out the doorway, "where are you?"
"Here," said Joel, thrusting his head down the loft stairs,
where he had heard every word that Polly had said to the old
stove.
"Now you and Davie must look after the little brown house," said
Polly, feeling very grown up and important, "and be good boys
while we're gone down to the store after the bundle of sacks Mr.
Atkins has got for Mamsie."
"Yes," said Joel, "we will, Polly."
So Polly ran over the stairs and kissed Joel and little Davie,
who crowded up for one also, and then Phronsie had to come
up to be kissed too.
"What are you two boys doing?" asked Polly.
"Nothin'," said Joel.
David was silently digging his toes back and forth on the floor.
"Well, you better come right down and play in the kitchen," said
Polly, "then you can look after things;" and she helped Phronsie
downstairs and took her hand, and they walked down the path and
off on to the road in a very dignified way, for Polly loved to
be fine, and it was always a gala occasion when she could dress
Phronsie up neat and nice, for a walk to the store.
"I very much wish we had a parasol," sighed Polly, who never
could get over the longing for one, ever since she saw Miss
Pettingill's green sunshade, with waving fringe, that she
carried to church; "but then, I don't suppose I'll ever get
one," and she sighed again.
"It's nice to be walking down to the store, Polly," observed
Phronsie, peering up at her from the depths of the pink
sunbonnet, and smoothing her pink calico gown down in front.
"So it is, Chick," said Polly, with a merry laugh. "I don't
b'lieve anybody ever had such perfectly good times as we do, in
all this world."
"No, I don't b'lieve they ever did," said Phronsie, shaking her
yellow head, delighted to see Polly gay once more. So they
walked on quite contentedly.
Meanwhile, Joel turned to Davie up in the loft. "We'll keep the
crickets in the box," he said, "till by'n by, an' go down,
'cause Polly said so. And I'm goin' to help her; you'll see."
With these mysterious words he shoved a tin box half full of
hopping black crickets under the bed, saying, "There, the
cover's on. Come on, Dave," and scrambled down the stairs to the
kitchen.
Little David went down more slowly, as if something were on his
mind. When he reached the kitchen, Joel was standing in front of
the stove, a pile of paper was down on the floor at his feet,
and he had a match in his hand. Davie stared at him in amazement.
"I'm going to help Polly," declared Joel, loudly, holding his
match quite fast with one hand, while he twitched off one of the
covers, with the lifter.
"Oh, Joe, you aren't going to make a fire?" cried little David,
horror-stricken, and rooted to the spot.
"Of course I am," declared Joel, boldly. "I heard Polly talking
to the old stove just before she went away, and she's got to
bake bread when she gets home, an' it's all right, an' she'll be
so glad to see it ready for her." All the time he was talking he
was stuffing the paper into the stove; then he ran into the
woodshed, bringing out some kindlings. "We've got to fill the
wood box, Dave," he said, to make talk and divert David's mind;
and he crammed the wood in after the paper, till there wasn't
much room left.
"You ought not to do it, Joe. O dear me, do stop," implored
David, clasping his hands.
"I'm big enough," declared Joel, strutting around and pulling at
the things that Polly said were dampers--though why they should
be damp, when there was a fire in the stove every day, he never
could see. "And when Polly sees that I can make it as good's she
can, she'll let me do it every day. Yes, sir-_ree!_" With
that he drew the match, and held it to an end of the paper,
sticking up. And forgetting to put back the cover, he raced off
to the wood, shed again for another armful of kindling.
_"Joel!"_ screamed David, left behind in the kitchen. "Come!
Oh, we're afire! We're afire!"
Joel dropped his kindlings and the heavier pieces of wood he had
gathered up, and went like a shot back to the stove again. Great
tongues of flame were shooting up toward the dingy ceiling.
"Why didn't you put the cover on?" cried he, terribly frightened,
for he began to think, after all, perhaps it would be quite as
well to let Polly make the fire. "It'll be all right, I'll have
it on in a minute," suiting the action to the word, as he stuck
the lifter into the cover and advanced to the stove.
"Oh, Joe, you'll be burnt up," cried David, in a dreadful voice,
and wringing his hands.
Joel made a dash, but the flames swirled out at him, so he
backed off.
"You can't do it," screamed Davie; "don't try it, Joe, you'll be
all burnt up."