Margaret Sidney

“ And every man picked up the bag that had the robber inside it, that he had caught, and he swung it off up on his shoulder.
“‘Now away to jail!’ shouted the cat.”
“Hooray!” screamed Joel, beating his hands together in great excitement.
“At the word ‘jail,’ every robber inside of a bag began to scream, and beg to be let out, and”—
“Oh, do let them out!” begged Phronsie. “Please do, Polly.”
“Oh, Phronsie, I can’t!” said Polly. “They are bad, naughty, wicked robbers, you know; and they’d kill that nice, dear old cat, maybe, if they got out.” ”

“ 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.” ”

“ Percy, being unable to get away from her gaze, grew very red and uncomfortable. At last he said, “Van is such a nuisance,” as he fidgeted from one foot to the other. Still Polly didn’t say anything.
“And he’s always boasting of what he can do.” Percy now was in such distress that he had no more words at his command, and he looked ready to cry, as he stood helplessly before her. But there was no chance for Polly to say anything; for in burst Joel and David, with Phronsie flying along in the rear, Van having gone to look up Ben, both of them presently making their appearance. ”

“ I’d rather tell a story than do anything else; I would, truly.”
“Oh, we don’t want any story!” screamed Joel, breaking away from the others to precipitate himself into Mrs. Pepper’s arms, his face working frightfully in his efforts not to cry. The other boys stood helplessly by, lost in astonishment.
“No, Polly,” said Mrs. Pepper firmly, “not now; the story must wait. And now, children, you can go away and shut the door.”
“Can I stay?” begged Phronsie, two tears rolling down her round cheeks, as she came up and stood imploringly by Mother Pepper’s side. ”

“ 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. ”

“ Now, keep still, you three chaps, or else Polly can’t tell it. You’re worse than the menagerie any day,” as the boys began to express their enthusiasm in such a babel, Polly could scarcely get a word in by way of beginning.
“Well, once upon a time,” began Polly, trying to frown at them; but instead, the brown eyes were laughing as she hurried on, with quite a flourish. “You must know that my story is all about the time when animals talked, and pumpkins walked, and”—
“Oh, don’t have any poetry!” began Van in alarm; “that’s perfectly horrid. Don’t, Polly.” ”

“ So Polly told Phronsie all about what seven-league boots were, and how the people who wore them could take great big steps, longer than anybody else in all the world, and how they could jump from the top of a mountain to another one just as easily as anything, and nothing could catch them. “And so you see,” said Polly, winding up her description, “when these tall, thin people heard the little queer man with the green umbrella coming up, they all burst out laughing. ‘We’ll show him what running is. Get on your boots,’ said every one to each other. ”

“ Well, there she sat, crying away on her stone, her little basket dangling on her arm, and the birds flying about her; and as soon as they saw the old woman mount up to the sky carrying the green umbrella, every single bird screamed right out, ‘Oh, come, the green umbrella’s gone! the green umbrella’s gone!’ and they all hopped down on Araminta Sophia’s head, till you couldn’t see anything but a heap of birds, and”—
“Oh, dear me!” cried all the boys again,—and, “Do make somebody come out and shoot them,” cried Joel in great excitement.
“Wait and see,” said Polly merrily. ”

“ Beebe?” cried Joel, putting his hands out as far as he could reach in front of him; “I like ’em big. Why ain’t they, Polly?”
“Because they aren’t Mr. and Mrs. Beebe,” said Polly. “Now, if you are going to interrupt every minute, I can’t tell the story.”
“I wish we could hear about those pink and white sticks,” said little Davie patiently, and drawing a long sigh.
“Yes, you see the others want to hear about it, Joel,” said Polly; “and it keeps us all back when you stop me so much.”
“I want the pink and white sticks,” said Phronsie, stretching out her feet. “Please hurry, Polly.” ”

“ 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?” ”

“ And Joel jumped up. “Whoop-la!” he screamed, as he pranced around and around the group on the floor, stepping high, and slapping himself as he raced along. “Come on, Dave; this is the way I’d make ’em go, all those horses.”
“Polly, do you suppose we’ll ever see a Circus?” cried little Davie with shining eyes; “ever in all this world?”
“Ever in all this world?” hummed Phronsie, while Ben set his teeth tight together and looked at her. “Yes, indeed,” declared Polly confidently, with eyes only for Ben. “Don’t look so, Ben,” she cried; “we’ll see one sometime.” ”

“ And Phronsie could always take Seraphina and stay there ever so long, because it was just a little way back of the kitchen-door; so you see we thought a great deal indeed of our Orchard.”
“Tell us what you used to do out in your Orchard?” begged Van abruptly; “every single thing.”
“Oh, dear me!” said Polly, drawing a long breath at the delightful remembrances. “I can’t tell you all the things we used to do there, any more than I can about all the good times we had in the dear old kitchen.” ”

“ Mrs. Whitney heard the noise, and ran in to see what the fun was.
“Oh, Mamma!” cried little Dick, hopping out of the centre of the circle closing around Polly; “she’s been telling us beautiful things about robbers and—cats—and”—
“No, she hasn’t,” contradicted Van, “it’s only one cat. Dick’s so little; he doesn’t know anything”—
“O Vanny!” reproved his mother.
“And I’m not little,” cried little Dick wrathfully, and standing very tall. “And she did tell about robbers—Polly Pepper did.”
“Well, you said cats,” said Percy; “and ’twasn’t but one.” ”

“ O Joey!”
“They are dreadful hard,” grumbled Joel; but he slipped his head back on Polly’s lap, wishing her fingers would smooth his hair again. But they didn’t; so he burrowed deeper, and tried not to cry. Meanwhile Phronsie, with a troubled expression settling over her face at this condition of things, made as though she would slip from the old chair. “Take me, Polly,” she begged, holding out her arms.
“Oh, no, you mustn’t, you pretty creeter,” declared Grandma, getting out of her chair to waddle over to the scene, her cap-border trembling violently, “you’ll hurt your toes. ”

“ I know Mamsie’d say ’twas best, everything’s all clean spick span;” and she glanced with pride around the little old kitchen that shone from top to toe.
“Mamsie’d like it,” cooed Phronsie; and she patted her pink apron down and looked at Polly to begin.
“The Circus story,” said Polly, beginning with a great flourish, “is about so many best and splendid things that you must keep quite still and not interrupt me a single teenty wee bit.”
“The circus story,” said Polly, “is about so many best and splendid things that you must keep quite still.” ”

“ Phronsie kept on, “and the long green stems, and the cunning little cups in the moss.”
“Yes,” said Polly, “they did; all those, Phronsie.”
“Every single one, Polly?” asked Phronsie, a little flush stealing over her cheek.
“Every single one,” declared Polly positively. “Lucy Ann dug them all up, and Betserilda put them in the flower-basket, and then they covered them with moss, and then they both took hold of the handle again; but they didn’t start to go back until Lucy Ann had most politely invited all the birds and squirrels to come and visit her garden.” ”

“ And instead of the great, dreadful thing crying out, ‘I’ve got you!’ he began to whimper and beg. ‘Oh, let me go! let me go!’ And pretty soon all the whole bunch of Nutcrackerses, and their cousins who had come to help, just lifted up that bad, wicked, horrid thing with the green eyes, that had stolen into their house, and they pitched him, head over heels through the doorway, and down—down; and he was ten feet long; so he was dreadful slow in”—
“O Polly Pepper!” roared Joel, “what you saying? why, there isn’t any man so big as that.”
“It wasn’t a man,” said Polly coolly. ”

“ Phronsie moved uneasily, but said not a word.
“At last, as morning broke, the Silly Little Brook heard a voice close to her ear say, ‘O dear Brook, wake up! I have something to say to you;’ and there was Robin Redbreast.”
“I am so glad he has come, Polly,” ejaculated Phronsie in relief.
“The Silly Little Brook at that opened her eyes. ‘What is it?’ she asked sadly.
“‘Don’t you know why the birds are flying over your head, to seek other streams, without [445] so much as giving you a gentle word,—and no one remains to tell you the truth but me?’ asked Robin. ”

“ THE OLD TEA-KETTLE. The rain dripped most dismally on the roof of the Little Brown House. It had rained just so, without any appearance of stopping, for three days, and Phronsie held a sad little face against the window-pane.
“Won’t it ever stop, Polly?” she asked.
“Yes, I s’pose so,” said Polly dismally; “though I don’t know when. Mamsie, did you ever see it rain so long?”
“Dear me, yes,” said Mrs. Pepper, looking up from her stocking-mending over in the corner, “plenty of times, Polly. If folks don’t worry over the weather and talk about it, it’s all right. ”

“ But Phronsie gently pulled him back.
“I think I ought to stay here, Grandpapa,” she said, regarding the boys gravely, while the tears went slowly over her round cheeks.
“Nonsense, child; you can’t do them any good. If they want to pound each other’s heads they’ll do it; and I think myself it might be a good dose for them both.”
“But they ought not to, Grandpapa,” said Phronsie in distress. “Polly wouldn’t like it.”
At mention of Polly’s name Joel left pursuit of Van, and plunged up to old Mr. King. “I won’t touch either of them,” he cried; “I don’t care if they pound me; I’ll let them.” ”

“ Lucy Ann cried quarts of tears. Well, so when she sat down on the grass and cried, her father fell into a tremble, and he shook so the big axe in his hand went every way, for he couldn’t hold it straight; and he looked at Lucy Ann, and he said, ‘Daughter, I wish you would stop crying.’
“‘I can’t,’ said Lucy Ann, crying worse than ever, till her tears ran into the grass and off, a little stream trickling away like a tiny, wee river. ”

“ I want some, I do,” broke in little David imploringly. Joel was just going to say so himself, but he caught Polly’s eye.
“Well, you can’t have any,” she said grimly. And she set her teeth together hard. How splendidly she could make a chicken-pie if she ever had the chance! Why couldn’t the little brown house ever have anything? And for a moment she drooped her shoulders in a sorry little fashion, and all the brightness went out of her round face.
“We never have anything,” said little Davie plaintively.
“Never,” said Phronsie sadly, shaking her yellow head. ”

“ So, you see, the robbers had it pretty much to themselves. Well, at the end of the long and lonely road was a little village. It was about as big as Badgertown, but not nearly so pretty,” said Polly, with a light in her brown eyes.
“Bad—ger”—began Joel.
“Ugh!” exclaimed Van at him, while Grandpapa held up a warning finger.
“Yes, it was just about as big,” said Polly. “Well, there were some men who were pretty rich lived there in fine smart houses, about six—no, I guess a dozen of them, and the robbers had waited a good while to see if they would come down their long and lonely road. ”

“ Like this,” said Polly, hanging over an imaginary table-edge.
The children screamed with delight, and Mamsie set a whole row of stitches briskly into place while she smiled contentedly over her needle. “‘Oh you bad, naughty thing!’ cried [143] the cat; ‘Phif—spit—meow! to do such things and run away while the mistress is gone.’
“‘I can’t help it,’ said the old Tea-Kettle, rolling busily on toward the door, while a pool of hot water trailed off into little streams on the floor. ‘I’m tired to death sitting in a hump on that old stove day in and day out. You can go out and see the world. ”

“ And Esmeralda hopped up and down in glee, she was so happy; and she danced and danced until off flew seventy-nine of the diamonds from her lace petticoat, and rolled away into as many cracks and crevices in the corners of the marble hall. But she didn’t care; for there were bushels in her room, and a dozen or two women always sitting on their crickets, with their needles threaded with silver thread, ready to sew on more. ”

“ 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.” ”

“ You said so, Polly, this very morning at breakfast,—that you’d tell it just as soon as you got through with your music-lesson, so there!”
“And so I will, Vanny,” said Polly brightly. “I’m going to begin it this very minute; that is, as soon as you’ve called Joel and David and Phronsie and Ben. We couldn’t ever in all this world have a story without them.”
“We might without Joel,” said Van, making lively progress toward the door, having certain reasons of his own for a cooling off toward that individual since the contest in strength with the fists of the little country lad. ”

“ I do so wish we had a Deacon Brown, who would let us have a big green wagon and go off to places,” said Percy enviously.
“Well, ’twouldn’t be Badgertown, I can tell you that,” said Joel, swelling up importantly, delighted to see Percy’s face.
“No, you needn’t expect to have such good times as the Peppers had in their Little Brown House,” said Jasper decidedly; “because you can’t, no matter where you are. I know, for I’ve been there.”
“Jappy always feels so big,” said Van irritably, “because he’s seen The Little Brown House. Well, do go on, Polly,” he added quickly. ”

“ Polly was saying, “oh! you can’t think how dreadfully dark it was, till Mamsie lighted her candle; for when we tried to look out of the window, why we couldn’t, because, you see, there was the white snow piled up against it tight; and we couldn’t open the door.”
“Why not?” asked little Dick.
“Because we’d go right into a big snowbank if we did, oh! ever and ever so much higher than our heads; and, besides, the snow would tumble in the house, and then we couldn’t shut the door again; so Mamsie told us not to touch it. ”

“ And that’s all,” said Polly, leaning back quite exhausted.
“Well, well!” exclaimed Mother Pepper, coming in suddenly upon the absorbed little group; “now, that looks comfortable,” and her face lighted up and she beamed at Polly.
“O Mamsie!” screamed every one of the bunch, as they sprang to their feet and surrounded her.
“There was a sweet dear little monkey,” cried Phronsie stumbling up, dreadfully excited “and a gre-at big man. Take me, Mamsie,” and she snuggled up to Mother Pepper’s wet gown.
“Take care, child,” cried Mrs. Pepper, hungry to get her baby to her heart; “mother’s all wet. ”

“ I must get him something to eat. Now I’m going to bake my biscuits; Mamsie’d let me give him some of those, I know.”
“No, no!” cried Joel; “you’ve got to tell me about Mr. Nutcracker, Polly,” seizing her gown.
“For shame, Joe!” cried Polly warmly, “when that poor old man is maybe going to die because he hasn’t had anything to eat. What would Mamsie say if she could hear you?”
Joel ducked his stubby head, and kicked the floor with his toes in a shamefaced way. “Well, you may, Polly,” he cried; “and I’ll help you,” he added, brightening up, and running into the kitchen after her. ”

“ Instead of this, the old gentleman leaned back in his chair, and laughed so long and so heartily that every one in the room joined; and when they sobered down, Polly was saying, “And then Mamsie came home, and everything was all right.”
“And Mamsie said I could have my new shoes, all-to-myself shoes,” declared Phronsie, very much excited, and sitting very straight in old Mr. King’s lap; “she did, Grandpapa.”
“So she did,” assented the old gentleman, bowing his stately head gravely.
“That’s nothing,” said Percy Whitney in a dissatisfied way, “to have a pair of shoes given you. ”

“ Pepper, as Polly came back with the flour-sieve and the bread-bowl, and set them on the kitchen table.
Polly looked around the kitchen with a startled air. “Oh, I’m awfully sorry!” she cried, a wave of color flying up to her brown hair, “Mamsie, I truly am.” Then she rushed over to Joel, who was banging petulantly at a refractory nail, “Look out, you’ll pound your thumb,” and she kneeled down beside him.
“Don’t care,” said Joel crossly; “can’t see anything. Mean old rain spoils everything.”
“Joel!”—it was Mother Pepper who spoke, and her black eyes flashed sternly,—“that’s wicked. ”

“ Polly?” while Phronsie tried to get out of her big chair to show, too, how she thought the bear would tumble over.
“Oh, no, Phronsie pet, you mustn’t!” cried Polly in alarm; “you’ll hurt your poor toes. Well, I think the bear looked something like both of you boys. He didn’t stick his legs up stiff, but he was on his back like Davie.”
“Well, I’m on my back,” cried Joel, whirling over; while David’s stiff little wooden legs and arms fell down in a twinkling. “Well, now you boys must get me the cinnamon,” said Polly, with a brisk eye on the old clock. ”