Margaret Sidney

“ Miss Parrott's thin cheek glowed, too. It carried her back to the day when she as a child had been skipping in that old garden, and her heart gave a throb at the thought that there were perhaps in store for her many delights yet, through Rachel's enjoyment of the old-fashioned flowers and shrubs.
"But come, child," she brought herself up suddenly to say, with a little laugh; "Hooper has summoned us to luncheon, and we must obey."
"Do you have to obey a servant?" asked Rachel, coming out of her dance to fall into step by her side, and looking up with wide-open eyes. ”

“ Polly Pepper, hurrying home from Alexia's, ran in by the gateway, and down by a short cut over the grass, her feet keeping time to a merry air that had possessed her all the afternoon. "How fine," she cried to herself, "our garden party will be!—and we've gotten on splendidly with our fancy things this afternoon. It will be too perfectly elegant for—" the flying feet came to a standstill that nearly threw her over the sleeping figure, the doll tightly pressed to the dirty little pinafore and the flushed cheeks. ”

“ 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." ”

“ 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." ”

“ At last, when Joel thought he couldn't brook the delay another minute, Mr. King whirled suddenly around in his chair.
"I tell you what it is, Joel, you and I will go down to see your friend ourselves."
"Oh, Grandpapa!" Joel gave a leap, and seized Mr. King's arm with both hands. "Right away now?" he cried, with sparkling eyes.
"Right away now," declared old Mr. King, getting out of his chair; "that is, as soon as we can make ourselves presentable for our walk. Goodness me, Joe, what a whirlwind you are!"—bursting into another laugh. ”

“ Don't go home, Polly."
She held her fast by the gown.
"No, of course not," said Polly; "at least not until I get this hook out of your hair. There—oh, dear me! I thought it was quite free. Well, anyway, now it is!" She held up the blue silk waist with a triumphant little flourish, over her own head. "It must be awful to have something fastened to you like that," she said, sympathetically, as she placed the waist on the bed with a sigh of relief.
"Well, I guess you'd think so," assented Alexia decidedly; "it's too perfectly awful for anything. ”

“ She tossed her fluffy hair till the long, light braids flew out triumphantly.
"Why can't we have a cooking club?" suggested Polly, after a minute of hard thinking.
"Ugh!" Alexia twisted up her face. "Oh, that's horrid," she said, with another grimace. "Do you mean, learn to make things on the kitchen range?"
"Yes, and on the chafing-dish," said Polly, flying up to sit straight. "Oh, it would be elegant, Alexia!" she cried, with glowing cheeks. ”

“ When Joel emerged from Grandpapa King's writing-room, he was hanging to the old gentleman's hand and looking up into his face and chattering away.
"You know it means work," said old Mr. King, looking down at him.
"I know, Grandpapa," said Joel, bobbing his stubby, black head.
"And you must keep at it," said the old gentleman decidedly, "else no pay. There's to be no dropping the job, once you take it up. If you do, you'll get no money. That's the bargain, Joe?"—with a keen glance into the chubby 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. ”

“ Miss Parrott, too, leaned over on her chair. "Oh—why, that's a ragged robin, Rachel."
"Ragged robin!" repeated Rachel, hopping off from her chair. "Oh, I want to see it," and she ran around the table-end, and leaned over to get a better view. "'Tisn't a bit ragged," she cried, very much disappointed, "and besides, he isn't there."
"Oh, Rachel!" exclaimed Miss Parrott, in dismay. "You must not do so; we never leave our chairs when we are at the dining-table."
Rachel, thus admonished, scuttled back to her seat, while Hooper groaned and pretended not to see anything. ”

“ Polly. "We're going to send ever so many little girls into the country,
Phronsie, but not any special one."
"Oh, yes, there is," contradicted Phronsie, her lip quivering again, and, despite all her efforts, the big tears began to course down her cheeks. "She's my little girl, and I like her. Please let her go, Polly. And maybe she'll come soon, if we only wait for her." It was a long speech, and by the time it was all out, Phronsie had laid her head in Polly's neck, and was sobbing as if her heart would break. ”

“ Alexia sank down upon the sofa, being careful not to relinquish her hold of Polly, and dragged a cushion over her face. "Is that you, Mr. Filbert"—bringing out one eye to stare at him.
"I think so," said Mr. Filbert, a little thin old man sitting over in the corner and leaning forward over his cane. He spoke cautiously, as if not quite sure. "Yes, it is a bad storm," he repeated decidedly. "Where is your aunt?"
"She's up in the closet," said Alexia, pulling the sofa-cushion over her own and Polly's face as well. "There, we can't see it at any rate, if we are going to be killed." ”

“ And then Polly flew back to her work again, and Mr. Dyce told such a very funny story about some monkeys who were going to give a party in the woods to all the other animals, that Phronsie forgot all about her needle, and ran over to clamber up into his lap.
And then, oh, the needles flew; and Clem's green stems began to grow, and a tiny bud showed itself, and then a full-blown violet. And Alexia's pink shawl took ever so many rows, and all the work seemed to flourish like magic. And at last, Miss Mary looked up at the clock.
"Time to put up work, girls," she cried gayly. ”

“ All the society people were to drive up later; and until the early evening hours it was to be the function of the town, which every one was anxious to attend. But everybody in Mr. King's household was to be ready to receive, exactly at three o'clock.
Phronsie was in the highest of spirits, having Grandpapa's hand to cling to, trying to welcome all the guests, and keeping one eye out to see that Rachel was enjoying herself, attired in a pretty, pink cambric gown, her black hair—which now seemed, oh, so soft and pretty!—tied back with little pink bows. And Rachel's eyes—well, there! ”

“ Polly gave a little laugh. "Well, there are lots of poor little girls who will go, Phronsie," she said, in great satisfaction, "because, you know, we're going to make a great deal of money, I expect. Why, Grandpapa has told Thomas to buy ever so many flowers. Just think, child, and the oceans we have here!" She waved her hands over to take in not only the old-fashioned garden where they stood, but the smart flower-beds beyond, the pride and joy of the gardeners. "Oh, yes, there will be ever so many children who will be happy in the country in the summer." ”

“ But Van didn't stir.
"Aren't you ashamed!" cried Percy, with a sniff. "I'd like to know if Polly will think it's nice for you to sneak out of it, Van Whitney."
"Ow!" squealed Van. He shot out into the hall, and without giving himself time to think, ran as hard as he could to join Joel in Mother Fisher's room.
Left to himself, Percy set himself to work on straightening the bedspread, running around from one side to the other to pat and twitch impatiently.
"As soon as I get one side nice, it all comes away from the other," he said to himself. ”

“ Mrs. Chatterton darted back and seized her friend's arm to drag her away. "That detestable creature makes me feel quite faint."
As soon as they had disappeared down a winding path, Rachel's amusement quite left her. She drew herself up stiffly, and hurried back to Polly, to be the same quiet, attentive, deft little maiden as before.
"You do tie flowers up so beautifully," cried Polly, handing her another big spool of baby ribbon. "Doesn't she, girls?"
"Yes, indeed," cried ever so many.
"I can't tie a bow to save myself," declared Alexia ”

“ Out came Gibson from the little room next.
"Will you bring us a tray of some of the nice things you always can get up, Gibson?" said her mistress. "I am really hungry, and I know these young people must be, they run about so."
"I am," declared Joel, in great satisfaction at hearing the tray mentioned, and bobbing his black hair, "awfully hungry."
"Oh, Joel!" said Polly.
"If you knew, Polly," said Mrs. Sterling, with a laugh, "what a pleasure it is to me, to hear a hungry boy say so up here, you would be very glad to let him. ”

“ Frick disentangled himself from the group.
"I found Joel myself," he said, "and he wouldn't come."
"Wouldn't come where?" demanded Alexia breathlessly, plunging up.
"Out on the pond." It was Larry Keep who answered.
"And so we've given it all up," said another boy, very dismally.
"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Alexia, "how tiresome of Joel!"
"Oh, no, no," protested Polly, shaking her head. "I know Joel couldn't go, or else he would. You know that, boys," she said, looking anxiously at them all.
"He's always been before," said Larry, in a dudgeon, "and I don't see what makes him act so now." ”

“ Sterling's face.
"Well, there are so many things to do for a boy who won't be very sick, but must be shut up in the house," said Mrs. Sterling, "that really it takes time even to think of them all."
"What are some of them?" burst out Joel, pulling the sofa-blanket in his eagerness.
"Joel—Joel," said Polly.
"Here are some of them," said Mrs. Sterling, "that I told the boys this morning when they were in here. You might cut out the funny things in the magazines and newspapers, the pictures and the stories, and send him. It's so nice to have little reminders to pass away the time." ”

“ Phronsie looked back, the tears racing over her round cheeks.
"I'll bring it home," called Polly from the steps, where she was back among the knot of girls.
"My bag!" Phronsie continued to wail.
"Dear me!" cried Polly, "she must have it now." So she ran into the house to get it, where Phronsie had left it on her little cricket, Mr. Dyce meanwhile saying, "There, there, child, you shall have it," while he turned the little mare sharply about.
"We can't ever find the needle," said Alexia, rushing after Polly into the library, and getting down on her knees to prowl over the floor. ”

“ When he saw, as he soon did, his visits to the side of the little bed being as frequent as Polly's own, that Phronsie was really awake and sitting up, he could keep still no longer, but putting his arms around her, fumed out:
"Oh, that careless Joanna! Poor lamb! There, there! Grandpapa will take care of his little girl himself, after this."
"I'm hungry," announced Phronsie, looking up into his face. "Indeed I am,
Grandpapa dear, very hungry."
"Oh, to think of it! Yes, Pet"—soothing her. "Where is that Sarah? Can't some one get this poor child a bit to eat?" he cried irascibly. ”

“ 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!" ”

“ I want to give out letters, too," she cried, dreadfully excited.
"So you shall, Pet," he cried, seizing her to toss her up in the air, the others all circling around them, Phronsie's happy little crows going up high above the general din.
"Well, I think if we are going to have such a fine post office, we'll have to work pretty hard to write the letters," said Polly, after they had sobered down a bit.
"Ugh!" cried Joel with a grimace, "I'm not going to write a single scrap of one."
"Indeed you are," retorted Polly; "everybody has absolutely got to write some letters. ”

“ Her spirits were rising now, and all the doubts she was beginning to feel overwhelming her as to the wisdom of inviting these boys in for the evening, fled at once.
"I think puzzles are just as horrid as conundrums," said Joel Pepper, beginning already to feel the prickles run up and down his legs, from sitting still so long, and wishing for nothing so much as a good scamper; "they're both as horrid as they can be."
"Oh, Joel!" exclaimed Mrs. Sterling, quite crestfallen. ”

“ The new mother didn't hear, being hungrily engaged in smoothing her child's cheeks against her own dirty ones, first one side of the face and then the other, and twitching down the dainty pink gown, gone awry during the hugging process, and alternately scolding and patting the little figure. This done, she administered a smart slap, plunged over to the nearest tree, and set the doll with a thud on the grass to rest against its trunk.
"Sit up like a lady," she commanded.
"Oh, don't!" cried Phronsie, quite horror-stricken, and running over on distressed feet. "She's my child," she gasped. ”

“ Polly eagerly.
"And Polly—oh, goody!—now don't you see we won't have to ask the boys to join this? A cooking club—the very idea!" Alexia hopped off from the sofa, and stood in front of Polly, clasping her hands.
"Why, yes we will," cried Polly, hopping off too, and speaking very decidedly; "the boys will like it just as much as we do."
"The boys like a cooking club!" screamed Alexia, standing quite still.
"Yes, indeed," said Polly. "Why, Jasper used to like our baking-days in the little brown house, you know he did, Alexia, like everything." ”

“ So she led the way to the drawing-room and sat down before the grand piano.
"Can't one of you girls play?" asked Mr. Dyce, at that.
"Oh, no, no," said Miss Mary, "the girls must dance." So, without waiting for any words, she struck into a two-step.
"Oh, I'll play, I'll play." Polly Pepper ran out from the midst of the group.
"Polly, come back, you are going to dance with me," cried Alexia.
"No, you're always getting her first. She's going to dance with me," announced Clem.
Polly was already over at the piano, trying to be heard, but Miss Mary only laughed and shook her head. ”

“ She lifted both hands. "Alexia Rhys, is it possible! I concluded not to go down-town, and came back, and to think of this—playing with your best silk waist!"
"I'm not playing," declared Alexia, in a sharp key, tossing back from her head as much of the waist as she could, "and it hurts awfully"—twitching angrily at the hook.
Polly sprang to her assistance.
"Wait a minute, and I'll get you out," she said.
"And I won't wait," cried Alexia loudly; "it's bad enough to be hooked to death with a horrid old ugly waist, without being scolded to pieces by your aunt." ”

“ It's a workbag."
"A workbag!" exclaimed Clem, in great scorn. "Well, I guess not, Polly
Pepper. What I'm going to make is ever so much better than an old workbag.
Guess again."
At the mention of the workbag, Phronsie had gently pulled Polly's arm. But Polly was too deep in thought to notice, and she wrinkled her brows, and bent her head again in her hands. What could it possibly be that Clem was to make?
"Well, I think it is a sachet bag, then," she said at last.
"An old sachet bag, when all the girls are making oceans of 'em! ”

“ Rachel smoothed down her apron and stood before the baking-table, a boy on either side.
"Now, boys," said Mrs. Henderson, pausing in her work of rolling out the pie crust, "I think you had better take Rachel down to see Grandma Bascom. I've told her she's coming to-day, and she's quite impatient to see her. And, Rachel, you can tell her about Mrs. Fisher and Polly and the boys. And oh, Rachel, be sure to tell her about Phronsie; she does just love that child so!"
The parson's wife leaned on the rolling-pin, and a bright color came into her face. ”