rushing along. "I'm going to get my mail bag now, there's just a crowd of
folks waiting over there for letters"--pointing over to the pine grove.
"So will I get mine," shouted Joel, "and see here"--waving his ten-dollar
bill--"what Mr. Cabot sent to Jasper. I guess that'll send one poor child
off into the country, Percy Whitney! Won't that be prime!"
There was such a crowd around the Wistaria-arbor post office, that Percy
and Joel, who much preferred being letter-carriers to helping Jasper
within, had to crawl in under the vines, to find the mail bags.
"Here, Jasper," cried Joel, "take it, do"--throwing the ten-dollar bill
down in a flurry, to fling the strap of his mail bag over his head before
Percy should get his in order.
But Jasper, who was trying to satisfy the demands of a throng of people all
clamoring at the small window for letters, didn't see it, or even hear his
name called. So the ten-dollar bill lay perfectly still where it fell,
until it got all tired out, and a little puff of wind, sweeping through the
arbor, blew it first to one side, and then to the other, until at last it
fell down among a tangle of evergreen with which the posts of the arbor
were wound. And presently, Van, who much preferred being assistant to
Jasper to running about as a letter carrier, came along and exclaimed, "Oh,
that silly old green stuff! It takes up so much room!" And he twitched off
a lot of it, and the ten-dollar bill, well crumpled up inside of the bunch,
sighed and said to itself as it was flung under the counter, "Now I guess
I'm dead and buried forever."
Meanwhile, Joel, as happy as a lark at the thought of Mr. Cabot's
contribution, went off on the wings of the wind, distributing letters,
here, there, and everywhere, and receiving lots of orders.
It was, "Oh, Joel, get me a letter,"
And, "Joel, get me one; I can't get near the post office; there's a perfect
mob there."
And, "Joel Pepper!"--from clear across the lawn--"come over here; Mrs.
Singleton wants to see you about some letters," until Joel began to feel
that he was about running the whole post-office department, and it seemed
as if every drop of blood was in his chubby face, he was so hot. But he
never thought of being tired, he was so happy, plunging on.
"Oh, my gracious, honey! you done mos' knocked de bref out o' me!" It was
Candace, who had left her little shop on Temple Place to help forward the
garden party, against whom he had come up, careless where he was going.
IX
THE TEN-DOLLAR BILL
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Joel brought himself up remorsefully, trying to recover
the collection of rag dolls sent spinning from her black arms.
"An' dey were sech perfec' beauties!" mourned Candace, twisting her hands
sorrowfully together. "Oh, me! oh, my!"
"They aren't hurt a bit," declared Joel stoutly, precipitating the whole
collection unceremoniously at her. "There they are, every single one, as
nice as ever!"
"Take care," warned Candace. "Oh, my soul and body!" she mourned, "dey're
all mussed up."
"You can comb it out," said Joel, longing to comfort, and forgetting it was
wool from Candace's own head.
"And what'll Mis' Cabot and Mis' Alstyne say?" groaned Candace. Then she
sat right down on the grass and began to pick at the dolls discontentedly.
"W'y couldn't you 'a' looked whar you're goin', Mas'r Joel?"
"Have Mrs. Alstyne and Mrs. Cabot bought those dolls?" cried Joel, pointing
a brown finger at them. "Oh, dear me!" He just saved himself from
exclaiming, "Those horrors!"
"Yes," said Candace, smoothing a woolly head in great distress, "but I
dunno's they'll want 'em now, dey've been shook up so and spilt on de
groun'--oh, dear me!"
"Joel, aren't you coming with that letter bag?" and, "Joel Pepper, hurry
up!" The cries were now so insistent that Joel dashed away, stopped, and
rushed back tumultuously. "Oh, Candace, I'm so sorry!" He flung himself
down on the grass by her side. Distress was written so plainly all over his
hot face that Candace stopped in her work over the dolls to turn and regard
him.
"Bress yer heart, honey," she cried, now as much worried over Joel as she
had been about the dolls, "dey ain't hurt a mite--not a single grain," she
added emphatically.
"Oh, Candace, are you sure?" he exclaimed delightedly.
"Not a mite," protested Candace, bobbing her own woolly head in a decided
fashion. "Dear me! now I'm afraid I discomberated my turban, an' it's my
spick an' span comp'ny one Mr. King give me for this yere berry occasion,"
and she put up both black hands to feel of it anxiously. Joel jumped to his
feet and ran all around the big figure to get the most comprehensive view.
"It's all right, Candace," he reported, in great satisfaction.
"Sure, honey?" she asked doubtfully.
"Yes, yes," declared Joel quickly, prancing up in front of her. "I like
you, Candace; you're just as nice as can be."
"Den gimme your hands!"--she laid the rag dolls carefully on the grass, and
put out both of her black ones--"and hoist me up, honey, dat's a good
chile."
So Joel stuck out his brown hands, and Candace laying hold of them, he
tugged, very red in the face, till finally she set her ample gaiters on the
ground and stood straight.
Up rushed Van.
"They're complaining at the post office," he squealed. "You've got to give
me your bag. Folks can't get their letters. Give me the bag." He thrust out
both hands.
Joel turned on him in a fury,
"You aren't going to have my bag," he screamed.
"I am, too; you're so slow, and don't give out the letters," said Van,
delighted to find some chance to get the best of Joel, and quite important
to be sent with a message to such an effect.
"You shan't either; I ain't slow," cried Joel, answering both statements at
once, and whirling around in an endeavor to keep the bag at his back. But
Van flew for it, disdaining to waste more time over arguments.
Candace stretched out a large, black hand. "See here, now, Mas'r Van, leggo
dat bag." She seized him by the jacket collar with such a grip that he
dismissed all thoughts of the mail bag, his one concern now being to get
free from Candace.
"Ow!" he screamed, wriggling violently. "I don't want the mail bag; let me
go, Candace, do!"
"See," cried little Dick, half across the lawn, to a merry party of ladies
and gentlemen, who turned to follow the pointing of the small finger toward
Candace and her capture.
"Oh, let me go," cried Van, very red in the face at this, and trying to
duck behind her big figure, "_please,_ Candace."
"Let him go," begged Joel, just as much distressed; "he won't touch the
bag, I don't believe, again, Candace."
"Oh, I won't, I won't," promised Van wildly. "I don't want the bag; do let
me go, Candace."
"Yer see, Mas'r Joel was a-helpin' me," said Candace, slowly releasing
Van's jacket collar, "an' 'twarn't none 'o his fault dat he stopped
kerryin' de letters." But Van was off from under her open fingers and shot
across the green in the opposite direction from little Dick and his party.
"Now I'll take my dolls to de ladies," observed Candace, bundling them up
in her clean, checked apron. She sent a satisfied glance after Joel, making
quick time toward the post office, then waddled off.
"Boy!" called a fine, imperious voice, as Joel dashed by a group of ladies
and gentlemen. As there wasn't any other boy in sight, he might be supposed
to be the one wanted; but Joel by this time was frantic to get to the post
office, and with his mind filled with mortification and distress at his
delay from his duty, he paid no heed to the call, now repeated more
insistently.
"It's a lady," then said Joel to himself, "so I must go back. Oh, dear me!"
He wheeled abruptly, and, hot and red-faced, plunged up to the group.
"What is it, ma'am?" Then he saw to his disgust that it was Mrs.
Chatterton. She was surrounded by friends whom she had met abroad.
"Why didn't you come when I bade you?" she exclaimed arrogantly. "Don't you
know it's your place to serve me?"
"No, ma'am," said Joel bluntly, his black eyes fixed on her face. One or
two of the gentlemen turned aside with a laugh.
"What, you little beggar!" Mrs. Chatterton said it between her teeth,
furious at the amusement of her friends, but Joel heard.
"I'm not a beggar," he declared hotly, and squaring his shoulders. By this
time he forgot all about the mail bag. "And you haven't any right to say
so"--with flashing eyes.
Mrs. Chatterton, now seeing him worked up, recovered herself and smiled
sweetly. She leaned back in her garden chair and swung her parasol daintily
back and forth.
"Oh, yes, you are," she declared; "we all know it, so there is no use in
your denying it. Well, you get us some ices and be quick about it." She
dismissed him with a wave of her beautiful arm, in its flowing, lace
drapery.
But Joel did not budge.
"You don't know it." He swept the whole group with his black eyes. "It
isn't as she says, is it?"
"No," said one of the gentlemen who had laughed, whirling around to bring a
very sharp pair of eyes on Joel's face, "it isn't, my boy."
"Well, I must say," protested Mrs. Chatterton, an angry light coming into
her cold eyes, and turning around on him sharply, "that this isn't very
friendly in you, Mr. Vandeusen, to pit that upstart boy against me. Now
there will be no managing him hereafter."
"Well, but, Mrs. Chatterton," broke in one of the other gentlemen, in a
propitiatory voice, and leaning over her chair, Mr. Vandeusen turning
calmly on his heel to survey the distant lawns through his monocle, "a
beggar, don't you know--well, it isn't the pleasantest thing in the world
to be called that, don't you know?"
"Particularly when one isn't a beggar," said a young lady hotly. Then she
turned to Joel and laid a hand on his arm. "Don't you mind it," she said.
"And as for you, Miss Tresor, I should consider it wiser for you to be
silent." Mrs. Chatterton turned on her with venom. "What do you know about
these miserable Peppers that infest my cousin's house, pray tell?"
"I like them," declared Miss Tresor decidedly, not turning her head. "Don't
mind it, my lad."
"I don't, now," said Joel. Then the gentlemen laughed again.
"Oh, I must go." All his long neglect of his letter-carrier duties, made so
much worse by this delay, now surged over him. He raised his chubby face,
over which a smile ran, and bounded off.
"Isn't he a dear!" exclaimed Miss Tresor impulsively.
"Come away, Emily," begged another young lady, seizing Miss Tresor's arm,
"the old cat is quite furious; just look at her face."
"We'll leave her to mamma's tender mercies," said Emily carelessly, "she
knows how to handle her. Do you remember that scene, Elinor, at Geneva?"
"Don't I!" laughed Elinor, as they sauntered off.
Well, by the time that six o'clock came, there wasn't so much as a scrap of
a letter left in Jasper's post office, but, instead, a box crammed full of
silver pieces and banknotes. And Miss Mary Taylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce,
and some other young ladies and gentlemen whom they drilled into the
service, shut themselves up in the library and wrote as fast as ever they
could make their pens fly over the paper, till little white piles appeared
on the table. And Percy and Joel and Van and the other boys would rush in
for these same piles to put them in the post office, to earn more money, to
go into the big box. So back and forth ran these letter carriers, until
even Miss Mary threw down her pen.
"I can't write another word," she cried. "I've exhausted everything I can
think of. I don't want to see another letter!"
And then a card was put up outside the Wistaria arbor, "Post Office
Closed." And everybody who still had money, was anxious to spend it before
going home; so it was just lavished on the flower-bowers, the fancy-work
table, and the candy shop.
And then, when there wasn't anything more to be bought or sold, the bands
moved down nearer to the center of the big lawn, making the gay little
groups all move back, leaving a broad, smooth surface, for the affair was
to end in dancing on the green.
Meanwhile Grandpapa was gallantly offering his arm to Madam Dyce, and
leading her up to an esplanade on the upper terrace, and, word being spread
about that all the guests were expected to follow, there they found seats
and little tables and a bevy of waiters to serve a delicious supper. And
here the dancing on the green below by the young people could be seen in
all its gayety, the setting sun casting bright gleams upon the merry scene.
"Dear me! shouldn't you think those young people would be tired enough
after all they have worked," observed the old gentleman, leaning back in
his comfortable chair, "to sit still and take it easy with us here?"
"No, indeed!" exclaimed Madam Dyce, "my old feet are actually twitching
under my gown to dance too."
"In that case," observed old Mr. King most gallantly, "let me lead you
down, and will you give me the honor?" He bent his white hair to the level
of her hand.
"No, indeed," laughed Madam Dyce; "I will leave the field for the young
people. But it carries me back to my youth, when you and I did dance many a
time together, Horatio."
"Did we not?" laughed Grandpapa, too. And then up came some merry groups,
tired of dancing, after some supper, when down they would go again,
fortified and refreshed, to begin it all over once more. At last, even the
lingering ones were obliged to say good-bye. The evening had shut in and
the brilliant garden party was a thing of the past. The King household was
resting and talking it all over on the spacious veranda, luxurious in its
cushions and rugs, its easy-chairs and hammocks.
"Oh, it has been so perfectly beatific!" exclaimed Polly, in a rapture. She
was curled up on the top step, her head in Grandpapa's lap, who was
ensconced in a big chair with Phronsie's tired little face snuggled up on
his breast. "Hasn't it, Alexia?" For Alexia was going to stay over night.
"Oh, my!" Alexia gave a sigh and squeezed Polly's hand. "I never had such a
good time in all my life, Polly Pepper," she declared. "The poor children
won't begin to get the fun out of it that we've had."
"Oh, those dear poor children!" exclaimed Polly, stretching out her toes,
which now began to ache dreadfully; "just think how perfectly lovely it's
going to be for them all summer, Alexia."
Joel caught the last words. He poked up his head from one of the hammocks.
"Well, I guess Mr. Cabot has helped a poor child to go into the country,"
he cried, in a pleased tone.
"I guess everybody has helped," observed Ben, "the way your letters went,
Jasper! Who would think so many could have been sold!"
Jasper stopped pulling Prince's ears.
"Didn't they go!" he cried, in huge satisfaction.
"I guess you were glad to get that big bill, Jasper," shouted Joel. "My,
wasn't he good to send it!"
"Eh?" asked Jasper. Everybody was chatting and laughing, so it wasn't
strange that things couldn't be heard the first time. So Joel shouted it
again, glad to be allowed to scream such a splendid contribution over and
over. "The big bill, wasn't it prime, Jasper!"
"What are you talking about, Joe?" cried Jasper, stopping his play with
Prince, as he saw Joel was terribly in earnest over something.
"Why, the big bill I gave you, that Mr. Cabot sent. Hurrah! Wasn't it
fine!" Joel kicked up his heels and emitted a whistle that made Polly clap
her hands over her ears.
"What big bill?" exclaimed Jasper. "What on earth are you talking about,
Joe?"
Joel tumbled out of the hammock and took long leaps across the piazza
floor, which landed him in front of Jasper.
"Why, that ten-dollar bill I gave you that Mr. Cabot sent to the post
office," he said, in a breath.
"You didn't give me any ten-dollar bill," said Jasper, all in a puzzle;
"you've been dreaming, Joe."
"I--I laid it down right by you." Joe could only gasp the words now.
"I didn't see it," said Jasper.
X
TROUBLE FOR JOEL
There was an awful pause, for everybody caught the last words. Joel slid to
the floor in a little heap. Mrs. Chatterton spoke up quickly.
"It's easy enough to see where it went," and she gave a little laugh.
"Come on, Joe." Jasper sprang up and shook Joel's arm. "We'll go and hunt
for it."
"I'll go, too." Van and Percy screamed it together. Now that any trouble
had come to Joel, each vied with the other to see which could work the
faster to help matters.
"I laid it--right down. Oh, dear me!" Joel was pretty far gone in distress
by this time, and blubbered miserably, as they all raced across the
greensward, Polly and Alexia following swiftly. "Hold on there, James,"
ordered Jasper, to one of the three men busy dismantling the post office of
its improvised trimmings of pine branches.
"Eh--eh, sor? Stop, boys," said James to the workmen within the arbor.
"We have lost something," panted Jasper, as the whole group precipitated
themselves up to the spot.
"Is that so, sor?" said James, in great concern. "Well, if I'd 'a' known
it, I'd 'a' kept a sharp eye out for it, sor." Polly and Alexia were
already in the arbor in the thickest of the green branches scattered over
the floor, and the boys were picking and pulling wildly, everywhere a
banknote could be supposed to hide. "What was it, sor?"
"A banknote," said Jasper, down on his knees, prowling over the floor with
both hands, while Joel, who could scarcely see for the tears that streamed
down his chubby cheeks, searched desperately on all sides.
"Is that so, sor?" said James, in great distress. "Well now, that's too
bad. We've taken off two loads already, sor."
"Where have you put them?" demanded Jasper, springing to his feet.
"Down in the dump, sor."
"We must look that over," said Jasper decidedly. "Send your men with
lanterns; don't touch a single thing here, James, I'll come back," and he
sprang off.
"No, no, sor," said James, touching his cap. "Now, boys," to the workmen,
"you can leave this here; get your lanterns and help the master."
"All right," said the men.
"Polly, you and Alexia keep on hunting, won't you?" called Jasper over his
shoulder, as the boys flew off.
"Yes, we will," called back Polly, who would very much have preferred the
pleasures of "the dump," a big dell in process of filling up with just such
debris as had now been added.
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Alexia discontentedly, "now we're mewed up here
when we might be in that dear old sweet dump, Polly Pepper; and all because
we're girls."
"Well, we can't help it," said Polly, with a sigh, who wished very much
sometimes that she might be a boy, "so we'd much better keep at work
hunting for that ten-dollar bill, Alexia."
"And Joel is so dreadfully careless," said Alexia, determined to grumble at
something, and poking aimlessly at the green branches scattered on the
floor. "I don't suppose we'll ever find it in all this world, in such a
mess."
"We must," said Polly, a little white line coming around her mouth.
"Well, we can't, so what's the use of saying that?" and Alexia gave a
restful stretch to her long arms. "Oh, me! oh, my! I'm so tired, Polly
Pepper!"
"You know we must find that ten-dollar bill, Alexia," repeated Polly
hoarsely, working busily away for dear life.
"Well, we can't; it's perfectly hopeless--so do keep still. Just look at
all this." Alexia waved her arms at the green draperies. "I'm going to pull
the rest down anyway, though; that'll be fun," and she made a dash at it.
"No, no," said Polly, on her knees on the floor, "we must leave all that
till Jasper comes back. Come, Alexia, help me look over these."
"Oh, bother!" cried Alexia, in great disdain, "I don't want to poke over
those old things. You know yourself it's no earthly use; we'll never find
it in all this world, Polly Pepper."
There was a queer little sound, and Alexia, whirling around, saw Polly
Pepper in a little heap down in the middle of the green branches.
"Oh, misery! what have I done?"--rushing over to her and shaking her arms.
"Oh, Polly, do get up, we _will_ find it, I'm positively sure; do get
up, Polly." But Polly didn't stir.
"Oh, dear me!" wailed Alexia. "Polly, _please_ get up." She ran all
around her, wringing her hands. "Oh, what did I say it for! Polly, Polly
Pepper, we'll find it, as sure as anything. We can't help but find it.
Polly, do get up."
She flung herself down on her knees and began to pat the white face. Polly
opened her eyes and looked at her.
"What did you say such dreadful things for, Alexia?" she said
reproachfully.
"Oh, I couldn't help it," exclaimed Alexia remorsefully. "There! Oh, dear
me! you've scared me 'most to death, Polly Pepper. Do get up." So Polly sat
straight, and Alexia fussed over her, all the while repeating, "We will
find it, Polly."
"Dear me!" said Polly, "this isn't hunting for that ten-dollar bill."
"Well, what's the use?" began Alexia. "Oh, yes, of course we'll find it,"
she brought herself up quickly. "Now, Polly, I tell you." She sprang to her
feet. "Let's clear a place in this corner"--and she rushed over to it--"and
then pick up every branch and shake it, and put it over here. Then we'll
know surely whether that horrid thing is on the floor or not."
"So we shall," cried Polly, getting up on her feet; "that's fine, Alexia!"
And they set to work so busily they didn't hear when the boys came back
from their search. But the first moment she saw Jasper's face, Polly knew
that the hunt was unsuccessful, and the next minute Joel threw himself into
her arms and hugged her closely.
"Oh, Polly," he sobbed, "it's gone, and it's my fault."
"Cheer up, old fellow," said Jasper, clapping him on the back; "we'll find
it yet."
Van and Percy stood dismally by, knocking their heels against the arbor
side, and feeling quite sure they should burst out crying in another
minute, if Joel didn't stop.
Polly patted his poor head and cuddled it in her neck. "Oh, Joey, we'll
find it," she said, swallowing a big lump in her throat; "don't cry, dear,"
while Alexia sniffed and wrung her hands, fiercely turning her back on them
all.
"Now, boys," said Jasper, in his cheeriest fashion, "we'll all set to work
on these vines that are left. Come on, now, and let's see who will work the
fastest."
"I will," announced Van, rushing over to twitch down the green drapery that
had been such a piece of work for the gardeners to put up. Percy said
nothing, but set to work quietly, lifting each branch to peer under it.
"Take care," warned Jasper, pausing a minute in his own work to look over
at Van's reckless fingers; "you must shake each one as you pull it down,
before you throw it out on the grass, else we'll have all our work to do
over again. Oh, Alexia, are you coming to help?"
"Of course I am," declared Alexia. "Oh, Van, what a piece of work you are
making!"
Polly was whispering to Joel, "We ought to help," when Van gave a shout,
"I've found it! I've found it!"
"Hurrah!" Jasper leapt down from the railing and plunged up in great
excitement to Polly and Joel. "There, old fellow, what did I tell you?" he
cried with glowing face, and clapping Joel on the back again.
"Phoh!" exclaimed Percy, in great contempt, "he hasn't, either; it's only a
bit of green paper."
"I thought I had," said Van, quite crestfallen, and flinging down the dingy
bit; "it looked just like it."
It was too much; and Joel, who had hopped out of Polly's lap, flung himself
on the floor and cried as if his heart would break. They couldn't get him
out of it, so Jasper just picked him up and marched off to the house with
him to give him to Mother Fisher.
And the next morning, search as hard as they could--and everybody was
hunting by that time--not a trace of the ten-dollar bill could be
discovered. And Mrs. Chatterton took pains to waylay Joel in the hall or on
the stairs at all possible opportunities, and ask him, with a smile at his
swollen nose and eyes (for he had cried so he could hardly see), if he had
found it yet. But these chances became very few, for it was Jasper's and
Polly's very especial business to keep guard over Joel, and try to divert
him in every way. Meantime the hunt went on. And the third day, when it
became perfectly apparent to the entire household that the banknote was in
such a clever hiding-place that no one could find it, Joel, his tears all
gone, marched into Mr. King's writing-room and up to his big table, and
without a bit of warning burst out:
"I want to sell tin!"
"Eh, what?" exclaimed the old gentleman, looking over his glasses. "What is
that you are saying, Joey, my boy?"
"I want to sell tin," said Joel bluntly.
_"Want to sell tin!"_ ejaculated old Mr. King, in amazement.