Five Little Peppers And How They Grew

M >> Margaret Sidney >> Five Little Peppers And How They Grew

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"Oh dear!" said Polly, sitting down on the floor, and pulling on her
stockings. "There now, see that hateful old shoe, mamsie!" And
she thrust out one foot in dismay.

"What's the matter with it?" said Mrs. Pepper straightening the
things on the bureau. "You haven't worn it out already, Polly?"

"Oh no," said Polly, with a little laugh. "I hope not yet, but it's
these dreadful hateful old buttons!" And she twitched the boot off
from her foot with such an impatient little pull, that three or four
more went flying under the bed. "There now--there's a lot more. I
don't care! I wish they'd all go; they might as well!" she cried,
tossing that boot on the floor in intense scorn, while she
investigated the state of the other one.

"Are they all off?" asked Phronsie, pulling herself up out of a little
heap in the middle of the bed, and leaning over the side, where she
viewed Polly sorrowfully. "Every one, Polly?"

"No," said Polly, "but I wish they were, mean old things; when I
was going down to play a duet with Jasper! We should have had a
good long time before breakfast. Oh, mayn't I go just once,
mamsie? Nobody'll see me if I tuck my foot under the piano; and I
can sew 'em on afterwards--there'll be plenty of time. Do, just
once, mamsie!"

"No," said Mrs. Pepper firmly, "there isn't any time but now. And
piano playing isn't very nice when you've got to stick your toes
under it to keep your shoes on."

"Well then," grumbled Polly, hopping around in her stocking-feet,
"where is the work-basket, mamsie? Oh--here it is on the
window-seat." A rattle of spools, scissors and necessary utensils
showed plainly that Polly had found it, followed by a jumble of
words and despairing ejaculations as she groped hurriedly under
chairs and tables to collect the scattered contents.

When she got back with a very red face, she found Phronsie, who
had crawled out of bed, sitting down on the floor in her little
nightgown and examining the boot with profound interest.

"I can sew 'em, Polly," she said, holding up her hand for the big
needle that Polly was trying to thread--"I can now truly; let me,
Polly, do!"

"Dear no!" said Polly with a little laugh, beginning to be very
much ashamed. "What could you do with your little mites of hands
pulling this big thread through that old leather? There, scamper
into bed again; you'll catch cold out here.

"Tisn't very cold," said Phronsie, tucking up her toes under the
night-gown, but Polly hurried her into bed, where she curled
herself up under the clothes, watching her make a big knot. But the
knot didn't stay; for when Polly drew up the long thread
triumphantly to the end--out it flew, and away the button hopped
again as if glad to be released. And then the thread kinked
horribly, and got all twisted up in disagreeable little snarls that
took all Polly's patience to unravel.

"It's because you're in such a hurry," said Mrs. Pepper, who was
getting Phionsie's clothes. And coming over across the room she
got down on one knee, and looked over Polly's shoulder. "There
now, let mother see what's the matter."

"Oh dear," said Polly, resigning the needle with a big sigh, and
leaning back to take a good stretch, followed by Phronsie's
sympathizing eyes; "they never'll be on! And there goes the first
bell!" as the loud sounds under Jane's vigorous ringing pealed up
over the stairs. "There won't be time anyway, now! I wish there
wasn't such a thing as shoes in the world!" And she gave a flounce
and sat up straight in front of her mother.

"Polly!" said Mrs. Pepper sternly, deftly fastening the little buttons
tightly into place with quick, firm stitches, "better be glad you've
got them to sew at all. There now, here they are. Those won't come
off in a hurry!"

"Oh, mamsie!" cried Polly, ignoring for a moment the delights of
the finished shoe to fling her arms around her mother's neck and
give her a good hug. "You're just the splendidest, goodest mamsie
in all the world. And I'm a hateful, cross old bear, so I am!" she
cried remorsefully, buttoning herself into her boots. Which done,
she flew at the rest of her preparations and tried to make up for
lost time.

But 'twas all of no use. The day seemed to be always just racing
ahead of her, and turning a corner, before she could catch up to it,
and Ben and the other boys only caught dissolving views of her as
she flitted through halls or over stairs.

"Where's Polly?" said Percy at last, coming with great
dissatisfaction in his voice to the library door. "We've called her, I
guess a million times, and she won't hurry."

"What do you want to have her do?" asked Jasper, looking up from
the sofa where he had flung himself with a book.

"Why, she said she'd make Van and me our sails you know," said
Percy, holding up a rather forlorn looking specimen of a boat, but
which the boys had carved with the greatest enthusiasm, "and we
want her now."

"Can't you let her alone till she's ready to come?" said Jasper
quickly. "You're always teasing her to do something," he added.

"I didn't tease," said Percy indignantly, coming up to the sofa, boat
in hand, to enforce his words. "She said she'd love to do 'em, so
there, Jasper King!"

"Coming! coming!" sang Polly over the stairs, and bobbing into the
library, "Oh--here you are, Percy! I couldn't come before; mamsie
wanted me. Now, says I, for the sails." And she began to~p out a
long white piece of cotton cloth on the table to trim into just the
desired shape.

"That isn't the way," said Percy, crowding up, the brightness that
had flashed over his face at Polly's appearance beginning to fade.
"Hoh! those won't be good for anything-- those ain't sails."

"I haven't finished," said Polly, snipping away vigorously, and
longing to get back to mamsie. "Wait till they're done; then they'll
be good--as good as can be!"

"And it's bad enough to have to make them," put in Jasper, flinging
aside his book and rolling over to watch them, "without having to
be found fault with every second, Percy."

"They're too big," said Percy, surveying them critically, and then
looking at his boat.

"Oh, that corner's coming off," cried Polly cheerfully, giving it a
sharp cut that sent it flying on the floor. "And they won't be too big
when they're done, Percy, all hemmed and everything. There," as
she held one up for inspection, "that's just the way I used to make
Ben's and mine, when we sailed boats."

"Is it?" asked Percy, looking with more respect at the piece of cloth
Polly was waving alluringly before him. "Just exactly like it,
Polly?"

"Yes," said Polly, laying it down again for a pattern--"oh, how does
this go--oh--that's it, there--yes, this is just exactly like Bensie's and
mine--that was when I was ever so little; and then I used to make
Joel's and Davie's afterwards and"-- "And were theirs just like
this?" asked Percy, laying his hand on the sail she had finished
cutting out.

"Pre-cisely," said Polly, with a pin in her mouth. "Just as like as
two peas, Percy Whitney."

"Then I like them," cried Percy, veering round and regarding them
with great satisfaction--as Van bounded in with a torrent of
complaints, and great disappointment in every line of his face.

"Oh now, that's too bad!" he cried, seeing Polly fold up the
remaining bits of cloth, and pick up the scraps on the floor. "And
you've gone and let her cut out every one of 'em, and never told me
a word! You're a mean, old hateful thing, Percy Whitney!"

"Oh don't!" said Polly, on her knees on the floor.

"I forgot--" began Percy, "and she cut 'em so quick--and--"

"And I've been waiting," said Van, in a loud wrathful key, "and
waiting--and waiting!"

"Never mind, Van," said Jasper consolingly, getting off from the
sofa and coming up to the table.

"They're done and done beautifully, aren't they?" be said, holding
up one.

But this only proved fresh fuel for the fire of Van's indignation.

"And you shan't have 'em, so 1" he cried, making a lunge at the one
on the table, "for I made most of the boat, there!"

"Oh no, you didn't!" cried Percy in the greatest alarm, hanging on
to the boat in his hand. "I cut--all the keel--and the bow--and--"

"Oh dear!" said Polly, in extreme dismay, looking at Jasper.
"Come, I'll tell you what I'll do, boys."

"What?" said Van, cooling off a little, and allowing Percy to edge
into a corner with the beloved boat and one sail. "What will you,
Polly?"

"I'll make you another pair of sails," said Polly groaning within
herself as she thought of the wasted minutes, "and then you can see
me cut 'em, Van."

"Will you really," he said, delight coming all over his flushed face.

"Yes, I will," cricd Polly, "wait a minute till I get some more
cloth." And she started for the door.

"Oh now, that's too bad!" said Jasper. "To have to cut more of
those tiresome old things! Van, let her off!"

"Oh no, I won't! I won't!" he cried in the greatest alarm, running up
to her as she stood by the door. "You did say so, Polly! You know
you did!"

"Of course I did, Vanny," said Polly, smiling down into his eager
face, "and we'll have a splendid pair in just--one----minute!" she
sang.

And so the sails were cut out, and the hems turned down and
basted, and tucked away into Polly's little work-basket ready for
the sewing on the morrow. And then Mr. King came in and took
Jasper off with him; and the two Whitney boys went up to mamma
for a story; and Polly sat down in mamsie's room to tackle her
French exercise.

POLLY'S BIG BUNDLE

The room was very quiet; but presently Phronsie strayed in, and
seeing Polly studying, climbed up in a chair by the window to
watch the birds hop over the veranda and pick up worms in the
grass beside the carriage drive. And then came Mrs. Pepper with
the big mending basket, and ensconced herself opposite by the
table; and nothing was to be heard but the "tick, tick" of the clock,
and an occasional dropping of a spool of thread, or scissors, from
the busy hands flying in and out among the stockings.

All of a sudden there was a great rustling in Cherry's cage that
swung in the big window on the other side of the room. And then
he set up a loud and angry chirping, flying up and down, and
opening his mouth as if he wanted to express his mind, but
couldn't, and otherwise acting in a very strange and unaccountable
manner.

"Dear me!" said Mrs. Pepper, "what's that?"

"It's Cherry," said Polly, lifting up her head from "Fasquelle,"
"and--oh, dear me!" and flinging down the pile of books in her lap
on a chair, she rushed across the room and flew up to the cage and
began to wildly gesticulate and explain and shower down on him
every endearing name she could think of.

"What is the matter?" asked her mother, turning around in her
chair in perfect astonishment. "What upon earths Polly!" "How
could I!" cried Polly, in accents of despair, not heeding her
mother's question. "Oh, mamsie, will he die, do you think?"

"I guess not," said Mrs. Pepper, laying down her work and coming
up to the cage, while Phronsie scrambled off from her chair and
hurried to the scene. "Why, he does act queer, don't he? P'raps he's
been eating too much?"

"Eating!" said Polly, "oh mamsie, he hasn't had anything." And she
pointed with shame and remorse to the seed-cup with only a few
dried husks in the very bottom.

"Oh, Polly," began Mrs. Pepper; but seeing the look on her face,
she changed her tone for one more cheerful. "Well, hurry and get
him some now; he'll be all right, poor little thing, in a minute.
There, there," she said, nodding persuasively at the cage, "you
pretty creature you! so you sha'n't be starved."

At the word "starved," Polly winced as though a pin had been
pointed at her.

"There isn't any, mamsie, in the house," she stammered; "he had
the last yesterday."

"And you forgot him to-day?" asked Mrs. Pepper, with a look in
her black eyes Polly didn't like.

"Yes'm," said poor Polly in a low voice.

"Well, he must have something right away," said Mrs. Pepper,
decidedly. "That?s certain."

"I'll run right down to Fletcher's and get it," cried Polly.

"Twon't take me but a minute, mamsie; Jasper's gone, and Thomas,
too, so I've got to go," she added, as she saw her mother hesitate.

"If you could wait till Ben gets home," said Mrs. Pepper, slowly.
"I'm most afraid it will rain, Polly."

"Oh, no, mamsie," cried Polly, feeling as if she could fly to the
ends of the earth to atone, and longing beside for the brisk walk
down town. Going up to the window she pointed triumphantly to
the little bit of blue sky still visible. "There, now, see, it can't rain
yet awhile."

"Well," said Mrs. Pepper, while Phronsie, standing in a chair with
her face pressed close to the cage, was telling Cherry through the
bars "not to be hungry, please don't!" which he didn't seem to mind
in the least, but went on screaming harder than ever! "And besides,
'tisn't much use to wait for Ben. Nobody knows where he'll get
shoes to fit himself and Joe and Davie, in one afternoon! But be
sure, Polly, to hurry, for it's getting late, and I shall be worried
about you.

"Oh, mamsie," said Polly, turning back just a minute, "I know the
way to Fletcher's just as easy as anything. I couldn't get lost."

"I know you do," said Mrs. Pepper, "but it'll be dark early on
account of the shower. Well," she said, pulling out her well-worn
purse from her pocket, "if it does sprinkle, you get into a car,
Polly, remember."

"Oh, yes, I will," she cried, taking the purse.

"And there's ten cents for your bird seed in that pocket," said Mrs.
Pepper, pointing to a coin racing away into a corner by itself.

"Yes'm," said Polly, wild to be off.

"And there's a five-cent piece in that one for you to ride up with,"
said her mother, tying up the purse carefully. "Remember, for you
to ride up with. Well, I guess you better ride up anyway, Polly,
come to think, and then you'll get home all the quicker."

"Where you going?" asked Phronsie, who on seeing the purse knew
there was some expedition on foot, and beginning to clamber
down out of the chair. "Oh, I want to go too, I do. Take me, Polly!"

"Oh, no, Pet, I can't," cried Polly, "I've got to hurry like
everything!"

"I can hurry too," cried Phronsie, drawing her small figure to its
utmost height, "oh, so fast, Polly!"

"And it's ever so far," cried Polly, in despair, as she saw the small
under lip of the child begin to quiver. "Oh, dear me, mamsie, what
shall I do!"

"Run right along," said Mrs. Pepper, briskly. "Now, Phronsie, you
and I ought to take care of Cherry, poor thing."

At this Phronsie turned and wiped away two big tears, while she
gazed up at the cage in extreme commiseration.

"I guess I'll give him a piece of bread," said Mrs. Pepper to herself.
At this word "bread," Polly, who was half way down the hall, came
running back.

"Oh, mamsie, don't," she said. "It made him sick before, don't you
know it did--so fat and stuffy."

"Well, hurry along then," said Mrs. Pepper, and Polly was off.

Over the ground she sped, only intent on reaching the bird store,
her speed heightened by the dark and rolling bank of cloud that
seemed to shut right down suddenly over her and envelop her
warningly.

"It's good I've got the money to ride up with," she thought to
herself, hurrying along through the busy streets, filled now with
anxious crowds homeward rushing to avoid the threatening
shower. "Well, here I am," she said with a sigh of relief, as she at
last reached Mr. Fletcher's big bird store.

Here she steadily resisted all temptations to stop and look at the
new arrivals of birds, and to feed the carrier-pigeons who seemed
to be expecting her, and who turned their soft eyes up at her
reproachfully when she failed to pay her respects to them. Even
the cunning blandishments of a very attractive monkey that always
had entertained the children on their numerous visits, failed to
interest her now. Mamsie would be worrying, she knew; and
besides, the sight of so many birds eating their suppers out of
generously full seed-cups, only filled her heart with remorse as she
thought of poor Cherry and his empty one.

So she put down her ten cents silently on the counter, and took up
the little package of seed, and went out.

But what a change! The cloud that had seemed but a cloud when
she went in, was now fast descending in big ominous sprinkles that
told of a heavy shower to follow. Quick and fast they came,
making everybody fly to the nearest shelter.

"I don't care," said Polly to herself, holding fast her little package.
"I'll run and get in the car--then I'll be all right."

So she went on with nimble footsteps, dodging the crowd, and
soon came to the corner. A car was just in sight--that was fine!
Polly put her hand in her pocket for her purse, to have it all
ready--but as quickly drew it out again and stared wildly at the car,
which she allowed to pass by. Her pocket was empty!

"Oh, dear," she said to herself, as a sudden gust of wind blew
around the corner, and warned her to move on, "now what shall I
do! Well, I must hurry. Nothing for it but to run now!"

And secretly glad at the chance for a good hearty run along the
hard pavements, a thing she had been longing to do ever since she
came to the city, Polly gathered her bundle of seed up under her
arm, and set out for a jolly race. She was enjoying it hugely,
when--a sudden turn of the corner brought her up against a
gentleman, who, having his umbrella down to protect his face,
hadn't seen her till it was too late.

Polly never could tell how it was done; but the first thing she knew
she was being helped up from the wet, slippery pavement by a kind
hand; and a gentleman's voice said in the deepest concern:

"I beg your pardon; it was extremely careless in me."

"It's no matter," said Polly, hopping up with a little laugh, and
straightening her hat. "Only--" and she began to look for her parcel
that had been sent spinning.

"What is it?" said the gentleman, bending down and beginning to
explore, too, in the darkness.

"My bundle," began Polly. "Oh, dear!"

No need to ask for it now! There lay the paper wet and torn, down
at their feet. The seed lay all over the pavement, scattered far and
wide even out to the puddles in the street. And not a cent of money
to get any more with! The rain that was falling around them as
they stood there sent with the sound of every drop such a flood of
misery into Polly's heart!

"What was it, child?" asked the gentleman, peering sharply to find
out what the little shiny things were.

"Bird-seed," gasped Polly.

"Is that all?" said the gentleman with a happy laugh. "I'm very
glad."

"All!" Polly's heart stood still as she thought of Cherry, stark and
stiff in the bottom of his cage, if he didn't get it soon. "Now," said
the kind tones, briskly, "come, little girl, we'll make this all right
speedily. Let's see--here's a bird store. Now, then."

"But, sir--" began Polly, holding back.

Even Cherry had better die than to do anything her mother
wouldn't like. But the gentleman already had her in the shop, and
was delighting the heart of the shop-keeper by ordering him to do
up a big package of all kinds of seed. And then he added a cunning
arrangement for birds to swing in, and two or three other things
that didn't have anything to do with birds at all. And then they
came out on the wet, slippery street again.

"Now, then, little girl," said the gentleman, tucking the bundle
under his arm, and opening the umbrella; then he took hold of
Polly's hand, who by this time was glad of a protector. "Where do
you live? For I'm going to take you safely home this time where
unbrellas can't run into you."

"Oh!" said Polly, with a little skip. "Thank you sir! It's up to Mr.
King's; and--"

"What!" said the gentleman, stopping short in the midst of an
immense puddle, and staring at her, "Mr. Jasper King's?"

"I don't know sir," said Polly, "what his other name is. Yes it must
be Jasper; that's what Jappy's is, anyway," she added with a little
laugh, wishing very much that she could see Jappy at that identical
moment.

"Jappy!" said the stranger, still standing as if petrified. "And are
there little Whitney children in the same house!"

"Oh, yes," said Polly, raising her clear, brown eyes up at him. The
gas lighter was just beginning his rounds, and the light from a
neighboring lamp flashed full on Polly's face as she spoke,
showing just how clear and brown the eyes were. "There's Percy,
and Van, and little Dick--oh, he's so cunning!" she cried,
impulsively.

The gentleman's face looked very queer just then; but he merely
said:

"Why, you must be Polly?"

"Yes, sir, I am," said Polly, pleased to think he knew her. And then
she told him how she'd forgotten Cherry's seed, and all about it.
"And oh, sir," she said, and her voice began to tremble, "
Mamsie'll be so frightened if I don't get there soon!

"I'm going up there myself, so that it all happens very nicely," said
the gentleman, commencing to start off briskly, and grasping her
hand tighter. "Now, then, Polly."

So off they went at a very fast pace; she, skipping through the
puddles that his long, even strides carried him safely over,
chattered away by his side under the umbrella, and answered his
many questions, and altogether got so very well acquainted that by
the time they turned in at the old stone gateway, she felt as if she
had known him for years.

And there, the first thing they either of them saw, down in a little
corner back of the tall evergreens, was a small heap that rose as
they splashed up the carriage-drive, and resolved itself into a very
red dress and a very white apron, as it rushed impulsively up and
flung itself into Polly's wet arms:

"And I was so tired waiting, Polly!"

"Oh dear me, Phronsie!" cried Polly, huddling her up from the
dark, wet ground. "You'll catch your death! What will mamsie
say!"

The stranger, amazed at this new stage of the proceedings, was
vainly trying to hold the umbrella over both, till the procession
could move on again.

"Oh!" cried Phronsie, shaking her yellow head decidedly, "they're
all looking for you, Polly." She pointed one finger solemnly up to
the big carved door as she spoke. At that Polly gathered her up
close and began to walk with rapid footsteps up the path.

"Do let me carry you, little girl," said Polly's kind friend
persuasively, bending down to the little face on Polly's neck.

"Oh, no, no, no!" said Phronsie, at each syllable grasping Polly
around the throat in perfect terror, and waving him off with a very
crumpled, mangy bit of paper, that had already done duty to wipe
off the copious tears during her anxious watch. "Don't let him,
Polly, don't!"

"There sha'n't anything hurt you," said Polly, kissing her
reassuringly, and stepping briskly off with her burden, just as the
door burst open, and Joel flew out on the veranda steps, followed
by the rest of the troop in the greatest state of excitement.

"Oh, whickety! she's come 1' he shouted, springing up to her over
the puddles, and crowding under the umbrella. "Where'd you get
Phronsie?" he asked, standing quite still at sight of the little feet
tucked up to get out of the rain. And without waiting for an answer
he turned and shot back into the house proclaiming in stentorian
tones, "Ma, Polly's come--an' she's got Phronsie--an' an awful big
man--and they're out by the gate!"

"Phronsie!" said Mrs. Pepper, springing to her feet, "why, I thought
she was up-stairs with Jane."

"Now, somebody," exclaimed old Mr. King, who sat by the library
table vainly trying to read a newspaper, which he now threw down
in extreme irritation as he rose quickly and went to the door to
welcome the wanderers, "somebody ought to watch that poor
child, whose business it is to know where she is! She's, caught her
death-cold, no doubt, no doubt!"

Outside, in the rain, the children revolved around and around Polly
and Phronsie, hugging and kissing them, until nobody could do
much more than breathe, not seeming to notice the stranger, who
stood quietly waiting till such time as he could be heard.

At last, in a lull in the scramble, as they were dragging Polly and
her burden up the steps, each wild for the honor of escorting her
into the house, he cried out in laughing tones:

"Isn't anybody going to kiss me, I wonder!"

The two little Whitneys, who were eagerly clutching Polly's arms,
turned around; and Percy rubbed his eyes in a puzzled way, as Joel
said, stopping a minute to look up at the tall figure:

"We don't ever kiss strangers--mamsie's told us not to."

"For shame, Joey!" cried PoIly, feeling her face grow dreadfully
red in the darkness, "the gentleman's been so kind to me!"

"You're right, my boy," said the stranger, laughing and bending
down to Joel's upturned, sturdy countenance, at the same instant
that Mrs. Pepper flung open the big door, and a bright, warm light
fell straight across his handsome face. And then-- Well, then Percy
gave a violent bound, and upsetting Joel as he did so, wriggled his
way down the steps--at the same time that Van, on Polly's other
side, rushed up to the gentleman:

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