Five Little Peppers And How They Grew

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"The squeezles," repeated Joel, irritably; "that's what you said."

"It's measles, Joey," corrected Mrs. Pepper; "never mind, I
wouldn't feel bad."

"Well, they all laughed, and laughed, and then I said you told me
to wait till I diii get the money."

"Oh, Joe," began Mrs. Pepper, "you shouldn't have told 'em
so--what did he say?"

"Well, he laughed, and said I was a smart boy, and he'd see; and
Mirandy said, 'do pay him, pa, he must be tired to death'--and don't
you think, he went to a big desk in the corner, and took out a box,
and 'twas full most of money-- lots! oh! and he gave me
mine--and--that's all; and I'm tired to death." And Joel flung
himself down on the floor, expanded his legs as only Joel could,
and took a comfortable roll.

"So you must be," said Polly, pityingly, "waiting at those Peterses."

"Don't ever want to see any more Feterses," said Joel; never, never,
never!

"Oh, dear," thought Polly, as she sewed on into the afternoon, "I
wonder what does all my eyes! feels just like sand in 'em;" and she
rubbed and rubbed to thread her needle. But she was afraid her
mother would see, so she kept at her sewing. Once in awhile the
bad feeling would go away, and then she would forget all about it.
"There now, who says I can't do it! that's most done," she cried,
jumping up, and spinning across the room, to stretch herself a bit,
"and to-morrow I'll finish it."

"Well," said Mrs. Pepper, "if you can do that, Polly, you'll be the
greatest help I've had yet."

So Polly tucked herself into the old shake-down with a thankful
heart that night, hoping for morning.

Alas! when morning did come, Polly could hardly move. The
measles! what should she do! A faint hope of driving them off
made her tumble out of bed, and stagger across the room to look in
the old cracked looking-glass. All hope was gone as the red
reflection met her gaze. Polly was on the sick list now!

"I won't be sick," she said; "at any rate, I'll keep around." An awful
feeling made her clutch the back of a chair, but she managed
somehow to get into her clothes, and go groping blindly into the
kitchen. Somehow, Polly couldn't see very well. She tried to set the
table, but 'twas no use. "Oh, dear," she thought, "whatever'll
mammy do?"

"Hulloa!" said Joel, coming in, "what's the matter, Polly?" Polly
started at his sudden entrance, and, wavering a minute, fell over in
a heap.

"Oh ma! ma!" screamed Joel, running to the foot of the stairs
leading to the loft, where Mrs. Pepper was with Ben; "something's
taken Polly! and she fell; and I guess she's in the wood-box!"

HARD DAYS FOR POLLY

"Ma," said David, coming softly into the bedroom, where poor
Polly lay on the bed with Phronsie, her eyes bandaged with a soft
old handkerchief, "I'll set the table."

"There isn't any table to set," said Mrs. Pepper, sadly; "there isn't
anybody to eat anything, Davie; you and Joel can get something
out of the cupboard."

"Can we get whatever we've a mind to, ma?" cried Joel, who
followed Davie, rubbing his face with a towel after his morning
ablutions.

"Yes," replied his mother, absently.

"Come on, Dave!" cried Joel; "we'll have a breakfast!"

"We mustn't," said little Davie, doubtfully, "eat the whole, Joey."

But that individual already had his head in the cupboard, which
soon engrossed them both.

Dr. Fisher was called in the middle of the morning to see what was
the matter with Polly's eyes. The little man looked at her keenly
over his spectacles; then he said, "When were you taken?"

"This morning," answered Polly, her eyes smarting.

"Didn't you feel badly before?" questioned the doctor. Polly
thought back; and then she remembered that she had felt very
badly; that when she was baking over the old stove the day before
her back had ached dreadfully; and that, somehow, when she sat
down to sew, it didn't stop; only her eyes had bothered her so; she
didn't mind her back so much.

"I thought so," said the doctor, when Polly answered. "And those
eyes of yours have been used too much; what has she been doing,
ma'am?" He turned around sharply on Mrs. Pepper as he asked
this.

"Sewing," said Mrs. Pepper, "and everything; Polly does
everything, sir."

"Humphl" said the doctor; "well, she won't again in one spell; her
eyes are very bad."

At this a whoop, small but terrible to hear, came from the middle
of the bed; and Phronsie sat bolt upright. Everybody started; while
Phronsie broke out, "Don't make my Polly sick! oh! please don't!"

"Hey!" said the doctor; and he looked kindly at the small object
with a very red face in the middle of the bed. Then he added,
gently, "We're going to make Polly well, little girl; so that she can
see splendidly."

"Will you, really?" asked the child, doubtfully.

"Yes," said the doctor; "we'll try hard; and you mustn't cry; 'cause
then Polly'll cry, and that will make her eyes very bad; very bad
indeed," he repeated, impressively.

"I won't cry," said Phronsie; "no, not one bit." And she wiped off
the last tear with her fat little hand, and watched to see what next
was to be done.

And Polly was left, very rebellious indeed, in the big bed, with a
cooling lotion on the poor eyes, that somehow didn't cool them one
bit.

"If 'twas anythin' but my eyes, mammy, I could stand it," she
bewailed, flouncing over and over in her impatience; "and who'll
do all the work now?"

"Don't think of the work, Polly," said Mrs. Pepper.

"I can't do anything but think," said poor Polly.

Just at that moment a queer noise out in the kitchen was heard.

"Do go out, mother, and see what 'tis," said Polly.

"I've come," said a cracked voice, close up by the bedroom door,
followed by a big black cap, which could belong to no other than
Grandma Bascom, "to set by you a spell; what's the matter?" she
asked, and stopped, amazed to see Polly in bed.

"Oh, Polly's taken," screamed Mrs. Pepper in her ear.

"Taken!" repeated the old lady, "what is it--a fit?"

"No," said Mrs. Pepper; "the same as Ben's got; and Phronsie; the
measles."

"The measles, has she?" said grandma; "well, that's bad; and Ben's
away, you say."

"No, he isn't either," screamed Mrs. Pepper, "he's got them, too!"

"Got two what?" asked grandma.

"Measles! he's got the measles too," repeated Mrs. Pepper, loud as
she could; so loud that the old lady's cap trembled at the noise.

"Oh! the dreadful!" said grandma; "and this girl too?" laying her
hand on Phronsie's head.

"Yes," said Mrs. Pepper, feeling it a little relief to tell over her
miseries; "all three of them!"

"I haven't," said Joel, coming in in hopes that grandma had a stray
peppermint or two in her pocket, as she sometimes did; "and I'm
not going to, either."

"Oh, dear," groaned his mother; "that's what Polly said; and she's
got 'em bad. It's her eyes," she screamed to grandma, who looked
inquiringly.

"Her eyes, is it?" asked Mrs. Bascom; "well, I've got a receet that
cousin Samanthy's folks had when John's children had 'em; and I'll
run right along home and get it," and she started to go.

"No, you needn't," screamed Mrs. Pepper; "thank you, Mrs.
Bascom; but Dr. Fisher's been here; and he put something on
Polly's eyes; and he said it mustn't be touched."

"Hey?" said the old lady; so Mrs. Pepper had to go all over it again,
till at last she made her understand that Polly's eyes were taken
care of, and they must wait for time to do the rest.

"You come along of me," whispered grandma, when at last her call
was done, to Joel who stood by the door. "I've got some
peppermints to home; I forgot to bring 'em."

"Yes'm," said Joel, brightening up.

"Where you going, Joe?" asked Mrs. Pepper, seeing him move off
with Mrs. Bascom; "I may want you."

"Oh, I've got to go over to grandma's," said Joel briskly; "she wants
me."

"Well, don't be gone long then," replied his mother.

"There," said grandma, going into her "keeping-room" to an
old-fashioned chest of drawers; opening one, she took therefrom a
paper, from which she shook out before Joe's delighted eyes some
red and white peppermint drops. "There now, you take these home;
you may have some, but be sure you give the most to the sick ones;
and Polly--let Polly have the biggest."

"She won't take 'em," said Joel, wishing he had the measles. "Well,
you try her," said grandma; "run along now." But it was useless to
tell Joel that, for he was half-way home already. He carried out
grandma's wishes, and distributed conscientiously the precious
drops. But when he came to Polly, she didn't answer; and looking
at her in surprise he saw two big tears rolling out under the
bandage and wetting the pillow.

"I don't want 'em, Joe," said Polly, when he made her understand
that "twas peppermints, real peppermints;" "you may have 'em."

"Try one, Polly; they're real good," said Joel, who had an
undefined
wish to comfort; "there, open your mouth."

So Polly opened her mouth, and Joel put one in with satisfaction.

"Isn't it good?" he asked, watching her crunch it.

"Yes," said Polly, "real good; where'd you get 'em?"

"Over to Grandma Bascom's," said Joel; "she gave me lots for all
of us; have another, Polly?"

"No," said Polly, "not yet; you put two on my pillow where I can
reach 'em; and then you keep the rest, Joel."

"I'll put three," said Joel, counting out one red and two white ones,
and laying them on the pillow; "there!"

"And I want another, Joey, I do," said Phronsie from the other side
of the bed.

"Well, you may have one," said Joel; "a red one, Phronsie; yes, you
may have two. Now come on, Dave; we'll have the rest out by the
wood-pile."

How they ever got through that day, I don't know. But late in the
afternoon carriage wheels were heard; and then they stopped right
at the Peppers' little brown gate.

"Polly," said Mrs. Pepper, running to the bedroom door, "it's Mrs.
Henderson!"

"Is it?" said Polly, from the darkened room, "oh! I'm so glad! is
Miss Jerushy with her?" she asked, fearfully.

"No," said Mrs. Pepper, going back to ascertain; "why, it's the
parson himself! Deary! how we look!"

"Never mind, mammy," called back Polly, longing to spring out of
bed and fix up a bit.

"I'm sorry to hear the children are sick," said Mrs. Henderson,
coming in, in her sweet, gentle way.

"We didn't know it," said the minister, "until this morning--can we
see them?"

"Oh yes, sir," said Mrs. Pepper; "Ben's upstairs; and Polly and
Phronsie are in here."

"Poor little things!" said Mrs. Henderson, compassionately; "hadn't
you better," turning to the minister, "go up and see Ben first, while
I will visit the little girls?"

So the minister mounted the crooked stairs; and Mrs. Henderson
went straight up to Polly's side; and the first thing Polly knew, a
cool, gentle hand was laid on her hot head, and a voice said, "I've
come to see my little chicken now I"

"Oh, ma'am," said Polly, bursting into a sob, "I don't care about my
eyes--only maminy--" and she broke right down.

"I know," said the minister's wife, soothingly; "but it's for you to
bear patiently, Polly--what do you suppose the chicks were doing
when I came away?" And Mrs. Henderson, while she held Polly's
hand, smiled and nodded encouragingly to Phronsie, who was
staring at her from the other side of the bed.

"I don't know, ma'am," said Polly; "please tell us."

"Well, they were all fighting over a grasshopper--yes, ten of them."

"Which one got it?" asked Polly in intense interest; "oh! I hope the
white one did!"

"Well, he looked as much like winning as any of them," said the
lady, laughing.

"Bless her!" thought Mrs. Pepper to herself out in the kitchen,
finishing the sack Polly had left; "she's a parson's wife, I say!"

And then the minister came down from Ben's room, and went into
the bedroom; and Mrs. Henderson went up-stairs into the loft.

"So," he said kindly, as after patting Phronsie's head he came over
and sat down by Polly, "this is the little girl who came to see me
when I was sick."

"Oh, sir," said Polly, "I'm so glad you wasn't!"

"Well, when I come again," said Mr. Henderson, rising after a
merry chat, "I see I shall have to slip a book into my pocket, and
read for those poor eyes."

"Oh, thank you!" cried Polly; and then she stopped and blushed.

"Well, what is it?" asked the minister, encouragingly.

"Ben loves to hear reading," said Polly.

"Does he? well, by that time, my little girl, I guess Ben will be
down-stairs; he's all right, Polly; don't you worry about him--and
I'll sit in the kitchen, by the bedroom door, and you can hear
nicely."

So the Hendersons went away. But somehow, before they went, a
good many things found their way out of the old-fashioned chaise
into the Peppers' little kitchen.

But Polly's eyes didn't get any better, with all the care; and the
lines of worry on Mrs. Pepper's face grew deeper and deeper. At
last, she just confronted Dr. Fisher in the kitchen, one day after his
visit to Polly, and boldly asked him if they ever could be cured. "I
know she's--and there isn't any use keeping it from me," said the
poor woman--"she's going to be stone-blind!"

"My good woman"--Dr. Fisher's voice was very gentle; and he took
the hard, brown hand in his own--"your little girl will not be blind;
I tell you the truth; but it will take some time to make her eyes
quite strong--time, and rest. She has strained them in some way,
but she will come out of it."

"Praise the Lord!" cried Mrs. Pepper, throwing her apron over her
head; and then she sobbed on, "and thank you, sir--I can't ever
thank you--for--for--if Polly was blind, we might as well give up!"

The next day, Phronsie, who had the doctor's permission to sit up,
only she was to be kept from taking cold, scampered around in
stocking-feet in search of her shoes, which she hadn't seen since
she was first taken sick.

"Oh, I want on my very best shoes," she cried; "can't I, mammy?"

"Oh, no, Phronsie; you must keep them nice," remonstrated her
mother; "you can't wear 'em every-day, you know."

"'Tisn't every-day," said Phronsie, slowly; it's only one day."

"Well, and then you'll want 'em on again tomorrow," said her
mother.

"Oh, no, I won't!" cried Phronsie; "never, no more to-morrow, if I
can have 'em to-day; please, mammy dear!"

Mrs. Pepper went to the lowest drawer in the high bureau, and
took therefrom a small parcel done up in white tissue paper.
Slowly unrolling this before the delighted eyes of the child, who
stood patiently waiting, she disclosed the precious red-topped
shoes which Phronsie immediately clasped to her bosom.

"My own, very own shoes! whole mine!" she cried, and trudged out
into the kitchen to put them on herself.

"Hulloa!" cried Dr. Fisher, coming in about a quarter of an hour
later to find her tugging laboriously at the buttons-- "new shoes! I
declare!"

"My own!" cried Phronsie, sticking out one foot for inspection,
where every button was in the wrong button-hole, "and they've got
red tops, too!"

"So they have," said the doctor, getting down on the floor beside
her; "beautiful red tops, aren't they?"

"Be-yew-ti-ful," sang the child delightedly.

"Does Polly have new shoes every day?" asked the doctor in a iow
voice, pretending to examine the other foot.

Phronsie opened her eyes very wide at this.

"Oh, no, she don't have anything, Polly don't."

"And what does Polly want most of all--do you know? see if you
can tell me." And the doctor put on the most alluring expression
that he could muster.

"Oh, I know!" cried Phronsie, with a very wise look. "There now,"
cried the doctor, "you're the girl for me! to think you know! so,
what is it?"

Phronsie got up very gravely, and with one shoe half on, she
leaned over and whispered in the doctor's ear:

"A stove!"

"A what?" said the doctor, looking at her, and then at the old, black
thing in the corner, that looked as if it were ashamed of itself;
"why, she's got one."

"Oh," said the child, "it won't burn; and sometimes Polly cries, she
does, when she's all alone--and I see her."

"Now," said the doctor, very sympathetically, "that's too bad; that
is! and then what does she do?"

"Oh, Ben stuffs it up," said the child, laughing; "and so does Polly
too, with paper; and then it all tumbles out quick; oh! just as
quick!" And Phronsie shook her yellow head at the dismal
remembrance.

"Do you suppose," said the doctor, getting up, "that you know of
any smart little girl around here, about four years old and that
knows how to button on her own red-topped shoes, that would like
to go to ride to-morrow morning in my carriage with me?

"Oh, I do!" cried Phronsie, hopping on one toe; "it's me!"

"Very well, then," said Dr. Fisher, going to the bedroom door,
"we'll lookout for to-morrow, then."

To poor Polly, lying in the darkened room, or sitting up in the big
rocking-chair--for Polly wasn't really very sick in other respects,
the disease having all gone into the merry brown eyes--the time
seemed interminable. Not to do anything! The very idea at any
time would have filled her active, wide-awake little body with
horror; and now, here she was!

"Oh, dear, I can't bear it!" she said, when she knew by the noise in
the kitchen that everybody was out there; so nobody heard, except
a fat, old black spider in the corner, and he didn't tell anyone!

"I know it's a week," she said, "since dinnertime! If Ben were only
well, to talk to me."

"Oh, I say, Polly," screamed Joel at that moment running in, "Ben's
a-comin' down the stairs!"

"Stop, Joe," said Mrs. Pepper; "you shouldn't have told; he wanted
to surprise Polly."

"Oh, is he!" cried Polly, clasping her hands in rapture; "mainmy,
can't! take off this horrid bandage, and see him?"

"Dear me, no!" said Mrs. Pepper, springing forward; "not for the
world, Polly! Dr. Fisher'd have our ears off!"

"Well, I can hear, any way," said Polly, resigning herself to the
remaining comfort; "here he is! oh, Ben!"

"There," said Ben, grasping Polly, bandage and all; "now we're all
right; and! say, Polly, you're a brick!"

"Mammy told me not to say that the other day," said Joel, with a
very virtuous air.

"Can't help it," said Ben, who was a little wild over Polly, and
besides, he had been sick himself, and had borne a good deal too.

"Now," said Mrs. Pepper, after the first excitement was over,
"you're so comfortable together, and Phronsie don't want me now,
I'll go to the store; I must get some more work if Mr. Atkins'll give
it to me."

"I'll be all right now, mammy, that Ben's here," cried Polly, settling
back into her chair, with Phronsie on the stool at her feet.

"I'm goin' to tell her stories, ma," cried Ben, "so you needn't worry
about us."

"Isn't it funny, Ben," said Polly, as the gate clicked after the
mother, "to be sitting still, and telling stories in the daytime?"

"Rather funny!" replied Ben.

"Well, do go on," said Joel, as usual, rolling on the floor, in a
dreadful hurry for the story to begin. Little David looked up
quietly, as he sat on Ben's other side, his hands clasped tight
together, just as eager, though he said nothing.

"Well; once upon a time," began Ben delightfully, and launched
into one of the stories that the children thought perfectly lovely.

"Oh, Bensie," cried Polly, entranced, as they listened with bated
breath, "however do you think of such nice things!"

"I've had time enough to think, the last week," said Ben, laughing,
"to last a life-time!"

"Do go on," put in Joel, impatient at the delay.

"Don't hurry him so," said Polly, reprovingly; "he isn't strong."

"Ben," said David, drawing a long breath, his eyes very big--."did
he really see a bear?"

"No," said Ben; "oh! where was I?"

"Why, you said Tommy heard a noise," said Polly, "and he thought
it was a bear."

"Oh, yes," said Ben; "I remember; 'twasn't a--"

"Oh, make it a bear, Ben!" cried Joel, terribly disappointed; "don't
let it be not a bear."

"Why, I can't," said Ben; "twouldn't sound true."

"Never mind, make it sound true," insisted Joel; "you can make
anything true."

"Very well," said Ben, laughing; "I suppose I must."

"Make it two bears, Ben," begged little Phronsie.

"Oh, no, Phronsie, that's too much," cried Joel; "that'll spoil it; but
make it a big bear, do Ben, and have him bite him somewhere, and
most kill him."

"Oh, Joel!" cried Polly, while David's eyes got bigger than ever.

So Ben drew upon his powers as story-teller, to suit his exacting
audience, and was making his bear work havoc upon poor Tommy
in a way captivating to all, even Joel, when---- "Well, I declare,"
sounded Mrs. Pepper's cheery voice coming in upon them, "if this
isn't comfortable!"

"Oh, mammy!" cried Phronsie, jumping out of Polly's arms,
whither she had taken refuge during the thrilling tale, and running
to her mother who gathered her baby up, "we've had a bear! a real,
live bear, we have! Ben made him!"

"Have you!" said Mrs. Pepper, taking off her shawl, and laying her
parcel of work down on the table, "now, that's nice!"

"Oh, mammy!" cried Polly, "it does seem so good to be all together
again!"

"And I thank the Lord!" said Mrs. Pepper, looking down on her
happy little group; and the tears were in her eyes-- "and children,
we ought to be very good and please Him, for He's been so good to
us."

THE CLOUD OVER THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE

When Phronsie, with many crows of delight, and much chattering,
had gotten fairly started the following morning on her
much-anticipated drive with the doctor, the whole family
excepting Polly drawn up around the door to see them off, Mrs.
Pepper resolved to snatch the time and run down for an hour or
two to one of her customers who had long been waiting for a little
"tailoring" to be done for her boys.

"Now, Joel," she said, putting on her bonnet before the cracked
looking-glass, "you stay along of Polly; Ben must go up to bed, the
doctor said; and Davie's going to the store for some molasses; so
you and Polly must keep house."

"Yes'm," said Joel; "may I have somethin' to eat, ma?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Pepper; "but don't you eat the new bread; you may
have as much as you want of the old."

"Isn't there any molasses, mammy?" asked Joel, as she bade Polly
good-bye! and gave her numberless charges "to be careful of your
eyes," and "not to let a crack of light in through the curtain," as the
old green paper shade was called.

"No; if you're very hungry, you can eat bread," said Mrs. Pepper,
sensibly.

"Joel," said Polly, after the mother had gone, "I do wish you could
read to me."

"Well, I can't," said Joel, glad he didn't know how; "I thought the
minister was comin'."

"Well, he was," said Polly, "but mammy said he had to go out of
town to a consequence."

"A what!" asked Joel, very much impressed.

"A con--" repeated Polly. "Well, it began with a con--and I am
sure--yes, very sure it was consequence."

"That must be splendid," said Joel, coming up to her chair, and
slowly drawing a string he held in his hand back and forth, "to go
to consequences, and everything! When I'm a man, Polly Pepper,
I'm going to be a minister, and have a nice time, and go--just
everywhere!"

"Oh, Joel!" exclaimed Polly, quite shocked; "you couldn't be one;
you aren't good enough."

"I don't care," said Joel, not at all dashed by her plainness, "I'll be
good then--when I'm a big man; don't you suppose, Polly," as a
new idea struck him, "that Mr. Henderson ever is naughty?"

"No," said Polly, very decidedly; "never, never, never!"

"Then, I don't want to be one," said Joel, veering round with a sigh
of relief, "and besides I'd rather have a pair of horses like Mr.
Slocum's, and then I could go everywheres, I guess!"

"And sell tin?" asked Polly, "just like Mr. Slocum?"

"Yes," said Joel; "this is the way I'd go--Gee-whop! gee-whoa!"
and Joel pranced with his imaginary steeds all around the room,
making about as much noise as any other four boys, as he brought
up occasionally against the four-poster or the high old bureau.

"Well!" said a voice close up by Polly's chair, that made her skip
with apprehension, it was so like Miss Jerusha Henderson's--Joel
was whooping away behind the bedstead to his horses that had
become seriously entangled, so he didn't hear anything. But when
Polly said, bashfully, "I can't see anything, ma'am," he came up red
and shining to the surface, and stared with all his might.

"I came to see you, little girl," said Miss Jerusha severely, seating
herself stiffly by Polly's side.

"Thank you, ma'am," said Polly, faintly.

"Who's this boy?" asked the lady, turning around squarely on Joel,
and eying him from head to foot.

"He's my brother Joel," said Polly.

Joel still stared.

"Which brother?" pursued Miss Jerusha, like a census-taker.

"He is next to me," said Polly, wishing her mother was home; "he's
nine, Joel is."

"He's big enough to do something to help his mother," said Miss
Jerusha, looking him through and through. "Don't you think you
might do something, when the others are sick, and your poor
mother is working so hard?" she continued, in a cold voice.

"I do something," blurted out Joel, sturdily, "lots and lots!"

"You shouldn't say 'lots," reproved Miss Jerusha, with a sharp look
over her spectacles, "tisn't proper for boys to talk so; what do you
do all day long?" she asked, turning back to Polly, after a withering
glance at Joel, who still stared.

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