that he would. Besides, the very thought of the little brown
house taking fire turned him desperate with fright; so he made a
second dash, and somehow, he never could tell what made it,
the cover slid on, and the flames muttered away to themselves
inside, in a smothered kind of way, and there they were, shut up
as tight as could be.
"'Twas just as easy as nothing," said Joel, drawing a long
breath, and beginning to strut up and down, still carrying the
cover-lifter. "You're such a 'fraid-cat, Dave," he added
scornfully.
David was beyond caring whether or no he was called a 'fraid-cat,
being stiff with fright, so Joel strutted away to his heart's
content. "Now I must put in more wood," he declared, and,
twitching off the cover, he crammed the stove as full as it
would hold, on top of the blazing mass. Then he wiggled the
dampers again, to suit him, paying particular attention to the
little one in the pipe, then wiped his grimy hands, in great
satisfaction, on his trousers.
"You see 'tisn't anything to make a fire," he observed to David;
"an I'm goin' to build it every single day, after this. Polly'll
be so s'prised. Now come on, Dave, let's go an' play," and
Joel gave a long and restful stretch.
Little David, seeing the stove behaving so well, gave a sigh of
relief, and coming slowly out of his fright, clattered after
Joel, and soon they were down back of the house, where they had
scooped out the ground, and filling it with water, had made what
they called a pond. Here they now began to sail boats made out
of bits of paper.
"Hi--there--you!" shouted a harsh voice. Joel and David,
absorbed in getting their boats across the pond without running
into each other, didn't hear. "_Hi!_" yelled the voice again, "your
house is afire!"
Joel lifted his black head and stared. "Come here, you!"
screamed a man, jumping out of a wagon in the middle of the road,
in front of the little brown house. He was big and redheaded,
and he held a whip in his hand.
This he shook frantically up toward the roof, screaming,
_"Your house is afire!"_
Sure enough. Great volumes of smoke came pouring out of the
chimney, which wasn't any too good, and once in a while a tongue
of flame would sweep out, licking the sides of the bricks,
as much as to say, "You can't shut me up entirely, you see." Oh,
how merrily they danced!
[Illustration: "''TWAS JUST AS EASY AS NOTHING,' SAID JOEL"]
"Get a bucket. Step lively, if you want to save your house!"
roared the man at Joel, who took one good look at the chimney,
then sprang for Mamsie's pail. "Get something, Dave," he
screamed, "and bring some water."
Now that the fire had really come, David, strange to say, felt
all his fright dropping from him. It was as if Mamsie said,
"Save the little brown house, dears," and he rushed on the wings
of the wind over down across the lane, and helped himself to
Grandma Bascom's big bucket, always standing on a bench beside
her kitchen door. And, with it almost full of water, he soon
stood by the big red-headed man's side.
"You're a likely-headed pair o' chaps," said the man, as Joel
dashed up with his pail, which he hadn't been able to find at
once, as Mamsie had put some cloth she was going to bleach into
it, and set it in the woodshed. "Now, then, I must climb the
roof, an' you two boys must keep a-handin' up th' water as smart
as you can."
"Oh, I'm goin' up on the roof," cried Joel, and springing up the
gutter-pipe.
"Do ye think ye kin?" asked the man. But Joel was already
halfway up. And presently the first pail of water was handed up,
and splash it went on the flames, by this time coming out very
lively at the chimney-top. But it didn't seem to do any good,
only to sizzle and siss, for just as soon as a pailful of water
was dashed on, out they popped again, as bright as ever. A boy,
coming whistling down the road, stopped suddenly, took one look,
and ran like lightning over across the fields on a short cut.
"Fire--_fire!_" he screamed, and pretty soon, by dint of jumping
stone walls and fences, he got into the street, at the end of which
stood Mr. Atkins' grocery store. "Fire--_fire!_" he bawled every
step of the way. "Where--where?" cried the people at the store,
rushing to the door and craning their necks, as he flew by, intent
on getting to the fire-engine house, so as to run back with the men
who dragged the machine by the ropes.
"At the Pepperses little brown house," bawled the boy, plunging
on.
"Now, Polly," Mr. Atkins was just saying, when the boy's scream
was heard, "you tell your Ma she needn't hurry about these coats.
I guess that paper'll cover 'em, if I put another knot in th' string.
My land! what's that!--"
"_Fire! Fire!_" the boy was bawling all along the street.
"It's the Pepperses little brown house."
Somebody said, "Poor children." Others, "Don't let 'em hear,"
"Too late!" and various other things.
"Come, Phronsie," said Polly, hoarsely, seizing the little fat
hand. Phronsie, who was regarding some very pink and white
sticks in a big candy jar on the shelf, tore her gaze away, and
followed obediently as Polly pulled her along to the door.
"Oh, Polly, you hurt me," she said in a grieved way.
"Here, I'll take you," cried an old farmer with a long beard
that looked like a bunch of hay, and he seized Phronsie and set
her in his big wagon. Polly hopped in beside. "Don't be scart.
We'll all go down and help," screamed a half dozen voices after
her. Rattle--rattle--clang came the fire-engine, the boy who had
brought the news having secured one of the most important places
at one of the long ropes. And away they went, the procession
gaining in length and strength at each step, till it seemed as
if all Badgertown were on the road and bound for the little
brown house.
The big red-headed man had dashed up to the roof by the side of
Joel. "You better go down and hand water," he said, "an' bring
the axe, we may have to cut away th' ruf." Joel, knowing it was
worse than useless to disobey, slid down, and got the axe first,
to have it ready--oh, dreadful thought!--to cut the little brown
house with; and then the two buckets, as full as they could be
lifted, went up, and came down empty. Up and down. Up and down.
"Here come th' folks," yelled the man on the roof. "Now we're
all right. Don't you be scart, boys, th' fire-engine's comin'."
None too soon! A little fork of flame was just beginning to pop
its head out between the shingles close to the chimney, as if to
say, "You really needn't think you are going to keep us shut
up." Up clattered the fire-engine with a dreadful noise into the
back yard, which suddenly seemed to be full of people of all
sizes. Joel, when he saw the firemen on hand, sprang for the roof
again. This time he staggered up with his bucket of water.
"Oh, Joel!" He looked down and saw, as well as he could, for
something seemed to be the matter with his eyes, Polly's face.
Now that the danger was all over, for of course the fire-engine
and all those people would save the little brown house, Polly
was the last person whom Joel really wanted to see. And he
busied himself in helping to haul up the water-buckets, that now
came up pretty lively as the boys filled them and handed them to
the firemen.
"You'd better get down," said more than one fireman. The roof
now seemed to swarm with them.
"I ain't goin' to," said Joel, obstinately, reaching out for
another bucket; "it's our house, so there!"
"Let him alone," said the big red-headed man, "he'll work as
smart as any two of ye men. If it hadn't 'a' been for him and
that one there," pointing with a grimy thumb to David on the
ground, still patiently getting water and handing up his bucket,
"we'd 'a' been all burnt up, by this time."
Joel's face got fiery red, all through the smut and grime. "If it
hadn't been for me!" and down went his black head. "Would Mamsie
and Polly ever, ever forgive him?"
"Oh, Joel," screamed Polly from the ground, looking at him
piteously, "do come down, dear!" But he really didn't hear now.
It seemed to him if he didn't work to the very last, he could
never look Mamsie in the face again, so he was now on the other
side of the chimney, where the fire was the hottest.
"It's an even chance, if we save it," Joel heard one of the
firemen say; "it's got in between the joints. See!"
"Then we've got to cut just that spot," said the big red-headed
man, who, by reason of being on hand first, was considered to be
the leader, and he swung his axe over his head. "Crash!" went
the little brown roof. At the sound, Polly dragged Phronsie over
to David's side.
"Now, then, in with the water lively, boys, and splash her out,"
cried the big red-headed man, who very much liked being a leader.
And thereupon he stopped working, and set the others at it in
such a brisk fashion that the water ran down in perfect rivers
all over the roof, one or two of the streams soaking through, to
drop into Ben's and Joel's and David's bedroom in the loft.
"It's out! It's out!" bawled some of the firemen on the roof to
the men and boys. "You don't need to send up any more water."
"Look behind you!" screamed the boy who had first discovered the
fire. He seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, and the
firemen, whirling around, saw a little tongue of flame shooting
determinedly up. It had run along underneath the shingles and
hopped at the first chance it could get. So the buckets of water
had to keep on flying up, to come down and be filled. Up and
down, up and down, till Polly sank on the grass, unable to bear
it another bit longer. "Oh, if I weren't a girl," she moaned
passionately, "then I could be up there, and I know I'd save the
little brown house. Oh, Mamsie! Mamsie!"
"Don't fret, Polly," said a good woman living in the village,--for
by this time a long procession of men, women, and children
had hurried in, crowding and jamming into the yard,--"ef it
burns down, you shall all come to our house an' stay a spell,
till you get another one."
"Don't," cried Polly, passionately, and shrinking off; "we can't
live, if the little brown house goes. Oh, Mamsie! Mamsie!" and
she sobbed as if her heart would break, and covered her face
with her hands.
"Don't cry, Polly," and Phronsie's little hand crept softly up
to her neck. But Polly couldn't stop. If there had been anything
for her to do, she would have kept up, but to sit there and see
the little brown house burn up, and know because she was a girl
there was no place for her on the roof--why, there she was,
sobbing as if her heart would break, and Phronsie clinging
piteously to her neck.
A ringing shout struck upon her ear. "It's coming!" shivered
Polly; "the roof's tumbling in!" and she hid her face lower yet.
Wouldn't God stop the dreadful fire ever yet. He must, for
Mamsie said He loved to help all His children. And--
"Hooray, Polly!" called Joel in her ear, putting a very black
face up close to her pale one. "Don't you understand? It's all
out. It is, truly, this time, every single squinchin' bit."
But Polly didn't understand, and they laid her back on the grass,
and one woman said, "Get a pamleaf fan," and another cried,
"Get th' water in that pail there," pointing to one not used, on the
grass. And everybody got in everybody else's way, and crowded
around her, and the water was dashed over her face till she was
in a little pool of it, and still she didn't open her eyes. And
Phronsie wailed and clung to her, getting as wet, so a thin
woman remarked, "as a drownded rat," and David was on the other
side, nearly as bad. As for Joel, he rushed up and down,
completely gone with fright. After all his brave fight, to have
Polly give out was something so very dreadful he couldn't think
of it.
"Here comes Mrs. Pepper," said somebody, and, "Thank the Lord,"
said another, and down the road in the doctor's gig, the little
doctor driving like mad, came Mamsie. They helped her out, and
she was in the yard, never looking at the little brown house;
for her black eyes were searching among the crowd, and her white
lips tried to frame some words.
"All safe, Marm," sang out the big redheaded man; "and you've
got some smart chaps," thinking he'd give all the comfort, and
at once, that was in his power.
"Polly ain't just well," spoke up somebody, sympathetically, and
in a minute Mamsie was down on the grass, with Polly's head in
her lap, the other children swarming around her, and Dr. Fisher
in the midst.
"Oh, I'm so ashamed," gasped Polly, coming to, and hiding her
face on Mrs. Pepper's breast.
"Don't you feel badly, Polly child," said Mamsie, smoothing her
brown hair gently; "you're all tired out. The little brown house
is all safe--just think of that!"
Polly thrust up her head and took one look. "Mamsie," she
whispered, holding to Mrs. Pepper's neck convulsively, "God did
stop the dreadful fire, didn't He?"
"He surely did," said Mrs. Pepper, looking around on all her
little group. The neighbors and townspeople, the firemen and the
crowd, stole silently off and left them there, but Dr. Fisher
stayed.
Suddenly Joel was missing. "Where is he?" asked Mrs. Pepper, a
fresh alarm gathering on her face.
"P'r'aps he's gone with the engine," piped up the boy who had
discovered the fire, and who seemed to think it his duty to
watch that it didn't break out again.
"Oh, no, Joel wouldn't do that," said Mrs. Pepper.
"I'll find him," said little Dr. Fisher, who had his own views
about Joel, after closely regarding his singed eyebrows and
black face; "lucky enough if he doesn't need considerable
patching up," he muttered to himself, as he strode off to
reconnoitre.
"There's no use in your hiding," he said aloud, as if talking to
some one. "So you might as well come out at once, and let me
know where you're hurt, Joe, and I'll fix you before your mother
sees you."
"I ain't hurt," said a voice from the lilac bushes.
"Oh, you are not?" said the little doctor, opening the bushes to
peer within, his spectacles setting well down on the end of his
nose, so that he looked over them. "That's good," and he soon
had Joel out. "Now then, I'll fix you up as good as ever," and
he rummaged his ample pockets for the things he had thrust into
them for this very work.
"I ain't hurt," said Joel, wriggling furiously.
"Stand still, Joe," said the little doctor, coolly, "for I'm
going to patch you up, so that you're decent to see your mother.
Aren't you ashamed to get this way when Polly, poor brave girl,
has been so sick? Why, what's the matter with you!" suddenly
giving Joel a whirl, so that he could look in his face.
Joel's face was working frightfully. "I 'most--burnt--the little
brown house--up," he gasped. "I made a fire in--the stove!"
XXV
JOEL SELLS SHOES FOR MR. BEEBE
The little doctor kept a firm hold on Joel's jacket, and gazed
keenly into his face. "Um!" he said.
"I wanted--to--to--help Polly," gasped Joel. "O dear me!" He was
a sight to behold, as the tears washed their way down the grimy
face, which was still working fearfully, as he tried to hold in
his sobs.
"So you thought you'd help Polly," said Dr. Fisher, kindly; "was
that it, Joel?"
"Yes," said Joel; "she'd put the putty in, and put it in----and----"
"Put the putty in?" repeated the little doctor, aghast.
"Yes, or Ben had."
"I never in all my life heard of burning putty in a stove," said
Dr. Fisher, helplessly, and setting his big spectacles again, as
if that might possibly assist him to understand.
"Oh, she didn't burn it," cried Joel, just as much astonished.
"Well, what did she do with it, then?" demanded Dr. Fisher.
"Dear me, I always supposed a stove was meant to burn things
in," and he waved his head helplessly, and regarded Joel with a
fixed stare.
"She stuck the putty in the holes," said Joel, very distinctly;
"don't you understand? Polly's stove is very old, and it's
cracked, and she says the air comes in and then the fire goes
down, so she has to stuff up all the mean old cracks. O dear me,
I wanted to help her," and off Joel went in another gust of
tears.
"I suppose Polly feels badly over her stove, sometimes,"
reflected Dr. Fisher, casting a very sharp glance on Joel. "I
really wonder if she does," he added carelessly.
"Feels badly!" exploded Joel. Then he took a good long look
around on all sides, and leaned over to whisper in the little
doctor's ear, "_She cries sometimes, Polly does_."
"No!" exclaimed Dr. Fisher.
"Yes, she does," declared Joel, shaking his stubby head
decidedly. "She cries dreadfully when Mamsie isn't looking. And
she didn't know that I saw her, either, only I peeked behind the
pantry door. And I wanted to--to--help her." He began to cry afresh
at the recollection.
"Joel," said Dr. Fisher, getting up suddenly, "you've got to
tell your mother how the little brown house got on fire."
"I know it," said Joel, but his head drooped, and his eyes fell.
"And the best way to right the wrong is to own up at once," said
the little doctor. "I suppose she's taught you that, eh, Joel?"
"Yes, sir," said Joel.
"Well, when you've got such a mother as you have, Joel,"
continued Dr. Fisher, "you better treat her as well as you know
how. So run along, and be quick with you," and Dr. Fisher gave
him a resounding clap on the shoulder, that sent Joe flying off
like a shot from a gun, while the little doctor stole off the
back way, and got into his gig, and drove off as fast as he
could, and thus escaped being thanked.
And the Badgertown folks got together and held a meeting in Mr.
Atkins' store that very evening, and said that it was a pity
that Mrs. Pepper, who was struggling so to bring up all those
five children, should have such a hard time. So each man put his
hand in his pocket and fished out some money; and the carpenters
came next day and mended up all the holes where the axe had cut
through the roof; and the whole house was cleaned and dried where
the water had run down, and then there was one dollar and forty-five
cents left over, for people had been so very generous.
"Just keep it, Mrs. Pepper," said the spokesman, "'twill come in
handy, most likely;" and Mrs. Pepper couldn't speak, she was
so taken aback. But they didn't seem to feel as if they hadn't
been thanked enough, as they all went back again into the
village.
Ben had been working in a distant wood-lot for Deacon Blodgett,
and so hadn't heard a word of the fire until he got into the
village, on his way home. Then he said he wouldn't believe it,
unless he should see for himself. So he ran every step of the
way home, and rushed in all out of breath. "What's happened?" he
demanded of the first person he met. This happened to be Polly.
"Oh, Ben!" she exclaimed, flinging her arms around him. And then
followed all the story.
And Ben continued to blink every now and then up at the ceiling,
varied by hurrying out to gaze at the roof, when he would rub his
eyes. "Dear me, Polly!" he would exclaim, "it seems just like an
awful dream."
"I wish it was," sighed Polly, "and I guess Joel wishes so,
too."
But the next day, when the Badgertown people came with their
gift, then the five little Peppers changed about to the very
happiest children in the world! And as soon as the visitors had
gone, the whole bunch of Peppers just took hold of hands, and
danced like wild little things around the table where the pile
of silver quarters and ten cent pieces lay.
"Mamsie," said Polly, when at last they stopped to take breath,
"did you ever know of such good people in the world as our
Badgertown folks?"
"I'm sure I didn't," declared Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes. "May
the Lord reward them, for I'm sure I can't."
Polly suddenly left the ring of Peppers, and came close to her
mother. "Perhaps you can, sometime, Mamsie," she said soberly.
"I hope so," replied Mother Pepper. "Well, well look forward to it,
and take the chance, if it ever comes, you may be sure, Polly."
That night, when the little brown house was as still as a mouse,
Polly heard a loud scream come pealing down from the room in the
loft. Mrs. Pepper, strange to say, didn't hear it at all; poor
woman, she was very tired with her work, from which she had been
hurried so unceremoniously when the alarm of fire reached her,
and she had lain awake all the first part of the night with a
heart burdened with anxious care.
"Joel's dreaming all about the fire, most likely," said Polly to
herself. So she slipped on Mamsie's old wrapper, picking it up
so that she would not trip and tumble on her nose, as she sped
softly over the stairs.
"Joel, hush!" she said reprovingly, "you'll wake Mamsie and
Phronsie! Ben, do make him keep still!"
"I can't," said Ben, only half awake. "Hush up there, Joe!" and
he turned over a very sleepy face, and tried to look at Polly.
"'Tisn't me," said Joel, in high dudgeon; "I ain't a 'fraid-cat."
And Polly stared to see David sitting on the edge of the
bed he shared with Joel, and tucking up his feet well under
him, while he shook with terror as he cried shrilly, "They're
running all up my legs!"
"Poor little thing!" exclaimed Polly, sitting down on the other
edge of the bed, at the risk of getting on Joel's toes. "He's
frightened," to the others. "I s'pose you've been dreaming,
Davie."
"No, no!" cried Davie, huddling up worse than ever. "There goes
one of 'em now!" he exclaimed suddenly, and pointed toward Polly;
"he's just running under Mamsie's wrapper!"
Polly hopped off the bed in her liveliest fashion, while from
under Mamsie's wrapper scuttled a black object over the bedquilt
in the opposite direction. "What is it?" she cried, beginning to
shake violently herself; "O dear me! are there any more of
them?"
"Yes," said Davie, "there are lots and lots, Polly. O dear me!"
He couldn't twist himself into a smaller knot than he was, so
there he sat, as miserable as possible, with the tears rolling
down his face.
"Joel!" cried Polly, giving that individual a little poke in the
back, as he appeared to be going off to sleep again, "you can
tell about these black things! I must know; so what is it?"
"Let me go to sleep," grunted Joel, twisting away from her
fingers.
"No," said Polly, firmly, "I shan't, Joey Pepper. What are those
black things that Davie--O dear me, there is another one!" and
Polly hopped back upon the bed, for there was a second black
creature steering straight for her in the dim light.
Joel gave a long restful sigh. "Do let me alone," he said
crossly. But Polly leaned over and shook his shoulder smartly.
"See here, now," cried Ben, roused by all this, "you just sit up
in bed, Mister Joel, and tell Polly all you know about this
business. Do you hear?" And suddenly over came Ben's pillow
flying through the air, to tumble over Joel's chubby nose.
"Nothin' to tell," declared Joel, again; but he sat up in bed.
"So you said before," said Polly; "but these black things got up
here somehow, and you know all about it, I'm sure. So you've
just got to tell all about it, Joel Pepper."
"It's crickets!" blurted Joel, suddenly, "an' Dave an' me brought 'em
to put in Ben's bed, an'--"
"Thank you," interrupted Ben, and, "Oh, Davie," reprovingly said
Polly.
"I'm sorry," said little Davie, wriggling up his toes; "I didn't
know they hopped so bad. Oh, Polly, they're all running up my
legs," he cried with another burst.
"Never mind," said Polly, quite reassured, "they're nothing but
dear, nice little crickets. I don't care, now; but it's dreadful
to see black things in the middle of the night, when you don't
know what they are."
"I don't like 'em, Polly," wailed David. "I'd rather they'd be
out of doors."
"But you helped to bring 'em in," said Polly. "How could you,
Davie?" she added reproachfully.
"Dave didn't 'xactly help," said Joel, uneasily. "I told him
he'd got to, Polly," he added honestly.
"Oh, I see," said Polly. "Well, now, Davie, you're going
downstairs to get into Mamsie's bed."
"Oh, goody!" cried Davie, smiling through his tears; and
stepping gingerly out of bed on the tips of his toes, lest he
should meet a black cricket unawares, he skipped to the head
of the stairs.
"Shake your clothes," called Polly, in a smothered voice,
fearful lest Mamsie and Phronsie should wake up. Thereupon she
began to shake the old wrapper violently. "We mustn't carry any
of 'em downstairs," she said, while Joel set up a howl.
"Oh, I don't want Dave to go downstairs and leave me," he whined.
"Yes, you can stay up here with your crickets," said Polly,
coolly, having shaken off any possibility of one remaining on
Mamsie's wrapper.
"And to-morrow morning you just step around lively and pick 'em
all up and carry 'em out doors," said Ben, before turning over
for another nap. "Good night, Polly."