on the pan which he was carrying carefully in both hands. “Now, says I,
you’re going into the oven, Mr. Biscuits.”
Polly rushed back into the pantry to get another pan, when she heard
Joel’s voice: “Oh, I couldn’t help it, Polly,” and when she flew out,
there was Joel sitting on the floor in a heap; and the pan was upside
down beside him, while several little lumps of dough seemed to be
trying to get back of the stove.
“O Joe, are you hurt?” cried Polly, flinging down her empty pan, and
running up to him.
“No--no--no!” roared Joel in the greatest distress, “but I’ve
up--up--set--upset--upset”--and he screamed on worse than ever.
“Never mind,” said Polly soothingly, and swallowing something in her
throat as she looked at the poor little lumps of dough on the floor.
“See, you didn’t spill ’em all, Joe,” and she turned the pan right side
up; “there are some stuck fast.”
Joel, at that, took out one black eye from under his arms, and regarded
the pan through his tears.
“And you are scaring that poor old man most to death,” said Polly,
hastily gathering up the little lumps of dough. “Look at him, Joe.”
[Illustration: “You are scaring that poor old man most to death,” said
Polly.]
Joel stopped instantly as he looked over at Mamsie’s corner. There sat
the poor old man, staring at them both, and hanging to the arm of the
big chair in consternation.
“Now you’ve got to go over and tell him that you won’t cry any more,”
said Polly decidedly; “else I don’t know what will happen. Maybe he’ll
go out on the doorstep again, and tumble straight down. Just think,
Joel Pepper!” And with that she opened the oven door and popped in the
pan that had a few lonely little dough-lumps scattered in it.
Joel, thus adjured, scampered over to the poor old man.
“I--I--won’t--cry any more, sir,” he blurted out, twisting his face
dreadfully.
“Hey?” said the old man, “what’s the matter?” So Joel told him the
whole story.
And the old man, who hadn’t heard the tumble and the upset of the pan,
only Joel’s roars, soon quieted down and leaned back in his chair.
“And now,” said Polly, over by the table, “I shouldn’t wonder if this
pan was ready for you to carry over and put in the oven, Joey.”
“What?” exclaimed Joel, not believing his ears; “you going to let me
put that one in?”
“Yes,” said Polly, “to be sure. You won’t stumble this time, Joe, if
you look where you’re going.”
“I caught my toe in the rug,” said Joe, racing over to the table; “I
was looking at the pan, and I didn’t see where I was going.”
“Well, you must use your eyes so you do see where you’re going,” said
Polly with a merry laugh. “There now,” and she put the second pan in
Joel’s happy hands. “This one will go all right, I guess.”
And this one did. And it was presently shut up tight in the hot oven,
along with the lonely little dough-lumps, now puffing up finely; and
Joel, proud as he could be, strutted up and down the kitchen floor.
And Polly put away her baking-things, and soon the old kitchen was
spick-span, it was so fresh and tidy.
“And now,” she said, “we can’t do anything for that poor old man till
those biscuits are done. Oh, dear me, how perfectly splendid; here
comes Mamsie!”
And out through the old doorway, and over the flat stone, raced Polly,
with Joel at her heels. And they seized Mother Pepper on both sides,
holding her arms, while Joel took her big bundle, all the time pouring
the story of the poor old man, and the dreadful state he was in, and
the biscuits baking, and, oh! Joel must confess how he had upset the
pan with the first ones, though Polly tried to stop him, and oh!
couldn’t Mamsie fry him some potatoes right away, and ever so much
more, till they all three stood in the old kitchen.
“He must have some tea,” said Mrs. Pepper, with a sharp look at him,
and throwing off her shawl. “Run, Polly, and get the tea-caddy.”
“O Mammy!” exclaimed Polly. Mother Pepper never had tea unless she had
caught cold, or was so tired she must take it, or get sick; and there
was now such a very little bit down in the bottom of the caddy. And
Polly stood quite still.
“Run, I say, Polly,” commanded Mrs. Pepper; and she pulled the old
tea-kettle into a hotter part of the stove. “A fine cup of tea will do
his bones good, more’n anything else.”
“There’s such a little bit left,” gasped Polly, not moving.
“Polly!” Mrs. Pepper turned suddenly on her. “Why, Polly--hush, he’ll
hear you. For shame, child; he’s such a very poor old man.”
“And then you won’t have any,” said Polly, at her end of self-control.
“O Mamsie! I wish I hadn’t brought him in,” she added under her breath,
and she burst into tears.
Mrs. Pepper only stopped to pat her head; and then she hurried into the
pantry and brought out the tea-caddy; and Polly, with the tears racing
over her face, watched her as the precious tea was poured into the
little black pot and set on the stove.
“Now run, Polly, child,” cried Mother Pepper as cheerily as ever, “and
get the big pink-and-white cup on the upper shelf.” This used to be
Father Pepper’s, and was carefully laid away; so while Polly ran off
with her tears, wiping them on her apron, Mrs. Pepper sliced up some
cold potatoes, and set them in the spider to fry. Joel in the meantime
had been opening his mother’s big bundle, as he always tried to do
whenever she brought home the fresh supply of sacks and coats to make,
so he heard nothing of what was going on.
“And I guess you better have a look at those biscuits in the oven,”
observed Mrs. Pepper wisely, as she sliced away. So Polly ran, and
kneeled down before the stove, and drew out first one pan and then the
other--the one with the lonely little lumps in it--
“O Mamsie!” she exclaimed happily; “see, they’re as fine as they can
be!”
And sure enough they were; every biscuit had turned a lovely brown, and
it had puffed up in just the right place, as much as to say, “You see,
we did our duty.”
“So they are,” cried Mrs. Pepper, pleased to see Polly all right once
more; “it beats all, Polly, to see how nicely you can bake things.
Mother’s proud of you.”
Polly set down the two hot pans on the kitchen table, and ran round
back of her mother, and dropped a kiss on the black hair. “I’m awfully
sorry,” she whispered.
“I know it,” said Mrs. Pepper; “and now we just won’t say any
more about it, Polly, child.” Then she briskly began to turn her
potato-slices that were sizzling away in the spider in the cheeriest
fashion.
And Polly got a little old towel, very clean and nice, and spread it on
the tray, and she put the big pink-and-white cup upon it, and Mamsie
poured the tea into it, and dished out some crisp potato-bits on a
plate, and Polly put some little biscuits around it all, and there was
a dinner fit for a king!
“Oh, my!” howled Joel, smelling the potatoes; “what have you got?”
jumping up, and nearly upsetting Polly, and tray, and all, as she
carried it slowly across the kitchen to the old man’s chair.
“Take care, Joe,” warned Mrs. Pepper, following to help Polly.
“Oh--oh!” Joel seemed to lose sight of everything but Father Pepper’s
pink-and-white cup, and he pointed an astonished finger at it.
“I know it,” said Mrs. Pepper, setting her lips together firmly;
“Father’d like to have us let the old man take it. Now, Polly, you can
feed him the potato, and”--
“No, let me,” said Joel, crowding in between, and trying to get
possession of the two-tined fork.
“No, I think Polly better; but you can break the biscuits apart,” said
Mrs. Pepper. So pretty soon the old man was sitting up quite straight
for him; and after he had taken one or two good draughts of the
steaming tea, he felt quite revived, and let Polly feed him the crisp
potato-bits, and the biscuits which Joel industriously broke apart,
until Mrs. Pepper put down the empty cup, and regarded Polly’s plate,
on which there wasn’t a scrap of anything left but the fork.
“I can’t thank you,” said the old man, quite heartened up, and looking
around at them all.
“No, don’t try,” said Mrs. Pepper; “you can go to sleep now. Come,
children;” and she drew them off into the bedroom.
“Now, Polly,” she said, when the door was shut, “you must run down to
Parson Henderson’s at once. He’ll know what to do with the poor old
man, for we can’t let him go. He’ll tumble down in the road.”
“I will, mother,” cried Polly, tying on her sun-bonnet. “What’ll I say,
Mammy?”
“Say? Why, tell just what it all is,--how he came, and ask Parson
Henderson what we are to do. Run along, child, and don’t let the grass
grow under your feet.”
“Will Parson Henderson know what to do with him?” cried Joel in a loud
whisper.
“Yes, of course,” said Polly quickly; “Parson Henderson knows
everything. But ’spose he shouldn’t be home, and I sh’d see Miss
Jerusha!” and Polly’s round cheek turned pale with fright.
“Go along, child, and don’t worry about things till you get to ’em,”
said Mrs. Pepper. “The Lord’ll provide, and I believe He’ll let Parson
Henderson be home.”
So Polly ran off on the wings of the wind, and presently back she
came in state, riding in the big old chaise that Parson Henderson had
borrowed from one of his parishioners. And on the way the minister
told so many pleasant things, that Polly wished, if it hadn’t been for
Mamsie’s anxiety over the old man, that that ride might last forever.
And then they were in front of the little brown house, to which they
drove up with a flourish, bringing Joel out with an envious whoop, and
Mrs. Pepper to the window.
And then Parson Henderson and Mrs. Pepper and the children helped the
poor old man tenderly into the big chaise, to go to the nice place
that the parson knew about, till he would be well enough to go on his
journey. And then home came Phronsie and David from Grandma Bascom’s,
down the lane, just in time to see the chaise go whirling off; and Ben,
hungry as a beaver, came rushing in from his work for dinner. So Mother
Pepper and Polly had to fly to get the midday meal ready, leaving it to
Joel to tell the story in his own way, an opportunity that he improved
to the utmost.
And after dinner Ben said that he wanted Joel to go back with him to
work; for there was wood to pile, and that meant ten cents more pay at
night. So it was evening before Joel thought of the interrupted story;
and he screamed right out, “O Polly Pepper, you didn’t finish about Mr.
Nutcracker!”
“No,” said Polly, “I didn’t; and how could I?”
“Well, you must tell it now,” declared Joel in a very injured fashion.
“Why, Joel Pepper, look at that clock!” cried Polly, pointing to it.
“It’s only half--a little after seven,” said Joel, looking every way
but at the clock.
“O Joe, it’s twenty-five minutes to eight!” said Davie, running up to
stand under the clock.
“Well, that isn’t much,” grumbled Joel.
“It’s five minutes after your bed-time, Joel,” said Mother Pepper,
going into the bedroom for her big work-basket; “so take yourself off.”
“And I’ll finish Mr. Nutcracker to-morrow, Joe,” promised Polly, as
Joel clattered up-stairs.
XIII.
MR. NUTCRACKER.
And so it came about that Polly began on the morrow, without any more
ado, the story of Mr. Nutcracker; for Mother Pepper said that she might
sit down as soon as the dishes were washed, and tell it to Joel. So
this is it:--
“Mr. Nutcracker,” began Polly in her gayest fashion, “was very high up
in the world. In fact, he didn’t like to have anybody above him. So he
built his house clear up ever so far above everybody else. Then he was
quite satisfied.”
“What kind of a house?” broke in Joel.
“Never mind. You wait till you hear more of the story,” said Polly.
“Well, Mrs. Nutcracker liked her house that he built her very much
indeed. That is, she would have liked it, but the children, the little
Nutcrackers, you see, wouldn’t stay in.”
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Joel.
“No; they kept jumping out as fast as they could. And those that didn’t
jump out, tumbled out.”
“Oh, dear me!” said Joel again.
“Until it was very dreadful,” declared Polly, shaking her brown head;
“for it kept poor Mrs. Nutcracker running every minute to the door
of her house to try to keep her children in. At last she said to her
husband, Mr. Nutcracker, ‘Pa, you surely must build me a house nearer
to the ground.’”
“And did he?” cried Joel, absorbed in interest.
“No, he said, ‘Oh, never! No Nutcracker has ever lived lower down in
the world than we are! and I can’t do it, my dear!’”
“That was bad of him,” exploded Joel with very red cheeks; “bad, mean
old man not to do as Mrs. Nutcracker wanted him to do. Wasn’t he,
Polly?”
“Well, you’ll see,” said Polly, hurrying along as fast as she could.
“And the little Nutcrackerses kept jumping and tumbling out of the
house at a great rate, until one day something very dreadful happened.”
“Tell about it,” cried Joel, hugely pleased.
“Yes, I’m going to. Well, Pa Nutcracker had gone off about his
business, and Mrs. Nutcracker was doing the work, when suddenly there
was a loud noise down on the ground, and two or three of the little
Nutcrackerses jumped out to the door, and leaned over, and said they
were going down to see what it was, and then away they rushed with a
hop, skip, and a jump. And six of them, brothers and sisters, said they
were going; and they were in such a hurry they didn’t look straight
before them, and they tumbled through the air--whiz--whiz”--
“Did they come on their heads?” cried Joel excitedly.
“No; they stuck their feet out, and they came right down on them,” said
Polly, “just as good as could be. So you see they weren’t hurt a bit.
Well, and then as Mrs. Nutcracker was all alone, why she thought she
might as well go too. So she went down. And there was the Nutcracker
house left all by itself. Then came the dreadful thing.”
“What was it?” asked Joel fearfully, and snuggling closer to Polly.
“Well, at first it was just as still,” said Polly, dropping her voice
to a little whisper, “you can’t think how still it was, Joey Pepper.
Not a creature was stirring, and”--
“Why didn’t she shut the door,” cried Joel, “when she went out, and put
the key in her pocket? Say, Polly?”
“Why, there wasn’t any key,” said Polly, racing along. “Now, you
mustn’t stop me any more, Joe, else I never’ll get through.”
“Mr. Nutcracker wasn’t a nice man at all, I think,” said Joel in great
disapproval, “if he couldn’t give ’em a key. Was he, Polly?”
“You’ll see,” said Polly, redoubling her speed.
“Well, when Mrs. Nutcracker ran along so swiftly, being in such a
hurry, you see, her great long train to her dress swept out and”--
“Is it a train of cars?” asked Joel, his eyes sticking out as far as
possible. “O Polly! I’ve never seen ’em, ’cept in a picture.”
“No,” said Polly. Then she burst out laughing, “How could a train of
cars be hanging on Mrs. Nutcracker’s dress, Joe? Dear me, that would be
funny!”
“You said train,” declared Joel, dreadfully disappointed.
“I know; but this is different. It’s something made like the rest of
the dress, and it hangs off when the one who’s got the dress on walks,
and she can swish it around perfectly splendidly; just like this, Joel
Pepper,” and Polly hopped to her feet, and began to parade up and down
the old kitchen floor, holding an imaginary trailing gown, and then
letting it fall like a peacock’s tail as it swept the ground, while she
held her head high, and sailed off.
[Illustration: Polly began to parade up and down the old kitchen floor.]
“Hoh, how you look!” cried Joel in disdain.
“Joel,” she cried, coming up to him, with sparkling eyes and her cheeks
rosy red, “it must be perfectly lovely to have a train to your dress.
Oh, don’t I wish I had one just like that picture in Mr. Beebe’s book!
Then I’d have a fan, a red fan just like that lady--no,” said Polly,
wrinkling her brows as she tried to decide, “I b’lieve I’d rather have
a pink fan, Ben does so love pink. Yes, my gown shall be pink, too,
pink satin with sweet little white flowers all over it, and shiny. O
Joel, it shall shine just like everything!” and Polly swept up and down
again like a lady of fashion.
“Well, that isn’t Mrs. Nutcracker,” called Joel loudly, in an injured
tone.
“Oh, I forgot!” exclaimed Polly, all her airs and graces tumbling off
from her in a flash, and she skurried back to Joel. “Oh, let me see!
where was I?”
“You said Mrs. Nutcracker’s long train swept out,” supplied Joel.
“Oh, yes, so I did. Well, and you know the dreadful creature that was
always watching to see if he could find the Nutcracker house left all
alone, caught sight of her long train sweeping away, and he snapped his
green eyes with delight and he laughed a perfectly dreadful laugh, and
he said, ‘Now I have it, now I have it!’”
“Oh! who was he?” screamed Joel, flinging himself forward almost into
Polly’s lap.
“Wait, and you’ll see,” she replied, laughing. “Well, so, sure enough,
just as soon as Mrs. Nutcracker was fairly off, in hurried this
dreadful creature, right in the doorway of the Nutcracker house.”
“Did he get on Mr. Nutcracker’s bed?” cried Joel.
“Wait, and see,” said Polly again.
“You say, ‘wait and see,’ every single time I ask anything,” grumbled
Joel.
“And I am going to all through this story,” said Polly coolly; “so
it won’t be any use for you to ask me, Joe. Well, and there he was
as quick as could be, inside that dear little house, and all those
Nutcrackers away.”
Polly spread her hands in a sad little way.
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Joel in distress.
“Well, now you know when Mrs. Nutcracker went down she didn’t mean to
stay long, but she met a friend,”--
“Who was it?” asked Joel abruptly.
“Oh, it was--dear me!” said Polly, bursting into a little laugh; “it
was her cousin, and”--
“You said it was her friend,” corrected Joel.
“Well, and so it was,” said Polly merrily. “I’m sure a cousin is a very
nice friend, indeed.”
“I wish I had a cousin,” said Joel; “I’ve never had one. Why don’t we
have some, Polly?”
“Some what?” asked Polly absently, with her mind on the story,
wondering how she should end it.
“Some cousins,” said Joel, twitching her gown. “Why don’t we ever have
any; say, Polly?”
“Oh, some folks don’t have any,” said Polly, stifling a sigh as she
thought how very nice it would be to have a houseful of cousins to go
and see.
“I s’pose poor folks don’t have any,” said Joel reflectively.
“Um--maybe,” said Polly, her chin in her hands, and only half hearing
what he said.
“Well, do go on,” begged Joel in alarm lest he should never get the end
of that story, and jogging her elbow; “what next, Polly?”
“Oh!” Polly started suddenly and rushed on again. “Yes, there he was,
that dreadful creature right in the”--
“You said that,” cried Joel. “Mrs. Nutcracker met her cousin, you told
already; now what next?”
“So I did,” said Polly brightly. “Yes, she met her cousin, and so they
stopped to talk and to ask after each other’s families; and that took a
good deal of time, you know; and all this while there was that dreadful
creature in Mrs. Nutcracker’s little house.”
“Oh, dear me!” cried Joel.
“Yes; and there were all the little Nutcrackerses having such a good
time running round, trying to find out what the noise was all about,
and Mr. Nutcracker, too, he”--
“Polly,” asked Joel suddenly, “what was the noise about?”
“Oh! it was nothing but a boy driving a lot of pigs to market, and they
wouldn’t go the way he wanted ’em to; so he chased ’em, and he switched
his stick over their backs, and they squealed awfully. And the little
Nutcrackerses were so sorry that they had taken the trouble to come
down just for that; so they said they’d race up home again and see who
would beat.”
[Illustration: And the pigs wouldn’t go the way he wanted ’em to.]
“O Polly!” cried Joel, in great excitement; “and did they, and find the
dreadful creature with the green eyes waiting for ’em in their home?
Did they, Polly?”
“Yes,” said Polly; “they did. And the littlest of the Nutcrackerses,
Jim Nutcracker, he got home first; and he rushed in the doorway
screaming out, ‘I’ve beaten--oh--dear me!’ there was the great creature
lying down on the floor, ready to eat him up!”
Joel clapped his little brown hands in delight. “Make him bite him,” he
begged; “do, Polly.”
“Oh, no, I can’t!” said Polly; “he was such a little Nutcracker, you
know. Well, he tumbled right back against his brothers and sisters
rushing up. ‘Don’t go in,’ he screamed at them. So they stopped,
and all got in a round ring, and thought about it. And the dreadful
creature in the house kept, oh, so still, hoping little Jim Nutcracker
hadn’t seen him, or at least that he’d come back and bring his brothers
and sisters with him. And pretty soon Mrs. Nutcracker got through
talking with her cousin; and so she came hurrying up home, and after
her, running as fast as could be, because you see it was getting late,
came Mr. Nutcracker.
“‘Oh, here come mammy and pappy!’ screamed all the children, as glad as
they could be; and”--
“Oh! make Mr. Nutcracker fight the dreadful man with the green eyes in
his house,” cried Joel; “make him knock him down, and hit him and bang
him all over and”--
“O Joey!” cried Polly.
“Yes, do,” begged Joel; “and bite him till he squealed just like the
pigs. Will you, Polly?”
“Well, you’ll see,” said Polly again, nodding wisely. “Now, Mr.
Nutcracker wasn’t a bit afraid; so he cried out very boldly, ‘Be quiet,
my children,’ to all the little Nutcrackerses; ‘I’ll take care of the
bad creature in our house.’ But Mrs. Nutcracker was awfully scared, for
she thought if she had only stayed at home the dreadful thing couldn’t
have got in. So when Father Nutcracker started to go and fight the bad,
wicked creature, she just grasped hold of his ta--I mean, his train,
and”--
“Did Father Nutcracker wear a dress?” cried Joel, in the greatest
astonishment.
“He?--oh, no!” laughed Polly; then little gurgles kept running up and
down her throat, while Joel persisted, “You said so; you said she
grabbed hold of his train, so there.”
“O Joey, I didn’t say ‘grabbed,’” corrected Polly who dearly loved to
use nice words.
“Well, anyway, you said she took hold of it, and he had a train just
like Mrs. Nutcracker’s, so he must have worn a dress,” cried Joel
stoutly; “I think that’s funny.”
“So I sh’d think,” said Polly, laughing again. “Well, now, he didn’t
wear a dress, and you mustn’t interrupt me again, Joe; if you do, I
shall never get through this story in all this world. ‘Come, children,’
cried Mrs. Nutcracker,”--and Polly dashed off speedily; “‘help me to
hold your Pa, for he mustn’t fight that dreadful thing in our house.’
So all the little Nutcrackerses ran up to their mother, and helped her
hold Mr. Nutcracker fast and”--
“Oh, I think that’s too bad!” howled Joel, horribly disappointed; “now
there won’t be any fight, Polly Pepper!”
“You wait and see,” advised Polly once more; “then I guess you’ll like
it, Joel Pepper.”
So Joel smiled again quite comfortably; since Polly said he’d like it,
he was quite sure he should. And so, on Polly hurried. “Well, there was
Mr. Nutcracker with Mrs. Nutcracker and all those little Nutcrackerses
hanging on to him, oh, so tight and fast! so he couldn’t get away you
see, although he begged and begged. And then Mrs. Nutcracker spoke up
loud and sharp, ‘Children, you hold tight on to your Pa, and don’t you
let him go; while I run down and get the cousins to come and help us.”
“O Polly! now I know,” exclaimed Joel in great glee; “there’s going to
be a big, big fight. I like it a great deal better to have all those
cousins come and help, I do, Polly, truly.”
“So I thought,” said Polly bobbing her brown head. “Well, I must hurry.
So Mrs. Nutcracker ran as fast as her feet would carry her, down to the
ground, and she called every one of those cousins she’d been talking to
such a little while ago, and the big tears rolled out from her eyes,
and she couldn’t speak for a whole minute.
“‘Dear, dear, dear!’ cried all the cousins, huddling around her, ‘what
is the matter, Cousin Nutcracker?’
“And then she finally told them all about it; and every one of those
cousins promised he’d go up with Mrs. Nutcracker, and help to drive out
the bad, wicked creature who had stolen into her house.”
“Oh, that was nice!” screamed Joe, in a joyful tone. “Now there’s
going to be a big, big fight;” and he wriggled all over in great
satisfaction.
“And so up they all came in a troop--I guess there was a dozen of ’em,”
said Polly.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Joel.
“Yes; and Mrs. Nutcracker rushed up ahead of ’em all, to her husband.
‘Pa,’ she cried, ‘here we are--we’ll help you to drive out the bad,
naughty, wicked thing from our house.’
“And every single one of those cousins said, ‘Yes, we’ll help you,
Cousin Nutcracker.’