Five Little Peppers And How They Grew

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"I don't care," said Polly, flying out of the bedroom. "Jappy's with
him, mamma, and it'll be nice I guess. At any rate, Phronsie's clean
as a pink," she thought to herself looking at the little maiden, busy
with "baby" to whom she was teaching deportment in the corner.
But there was no time to "fix up;" for a tall, portly gentleman,
leaning on his heavy gold cane, was walking up from the little
brown gate to the big flat-stone that served as a step. Jasper and
Prince followed decorously.

"Is this little Miss Pepper?" he asked pompously of Polly, who
answered his rap on the door. Now whether she was little "Miss
Pepper" she never had stopped to consider.

"I don't know sir; I'm Polly." And then she blushed bright as a rose,
and the laughing brown eyes looked beyond to Jasper, who stood
on the walk, and smiled encouragingly.

"Is your mother in?" asked the old gentleman, who was so tall he
could scarcely enter the low door. And then Mrs. Pepper came
forward, and Jasper introduced her, and the old gentleman bowed,
and sat down in the seat Polly placed for him. And Mrs. Pepper
thanked him with a heart overflowing with gratitude, through lips
that would tremble even then, for all that Jasper had done for
them. And the old gentleman said--"Humph!" but he looked at his
son, and something shone in his eye just for a moment.

Phronsie had retreated with "baby" in her arms behind the door on
the new arrival. But seeing everything progressing finely, and
overcome by her extreme desire to see Jappy and Prince, she began
by peeping out with big eyes to observe how things were going on.
Just then the old gentleman happened to say, "Well, where is my
little girl that baked me a cake so kindly?"

Then Phronsie, forgetting all else but her "poor sick man," who
also was "Jasper's father," rushed out from behind the door, and
coming up to the stately old gentleman in the chair, she looked up
pityingly, and said, shaking her yellow head, "Poor, sick man, was
my boy good?"

After that there was no more gravity and ceremony. In a moment,
Phronsie was perched upon old Mr. King's knee, and playing with
his watch; while the others, freed from all restraint, were chatting
and laughing happily, till some of the cheeriness overflowed and
warmed the heart of the old gentleman.

"We go to-morrow," he said, rising, and looking at his watch.
"Why, is it possible that we have been here an hour! there, my
little girl, will you give me a kiss?" and he bent his handsome old
head down to the childish face upturned to his confidingly.

"Don't go," said the child, as she put up her little lips in grave
confidence. "I do like you--I do!"

"Oh, Phronsie," began Mrs. Pepper.

"Don't reprove her, madam," said the old gentleman, who liked it
immensely. "Yes, we go to-morrow," he said, looking around on
the group to whom this was a blow they little expected. They had
surely thought Jasper was to stay a week longer.

"I received a telegram this morning, that I must be in the city on
Thursday. And besides, madam," he said, addressing Mrs. Pepper,
"I think the climate is bad for me now, as it induces rheumatism.
The hotel is also getting unpleasant; there are many annoyances
that I cannot put up with; so that altogether, I do not regret it."

Mrs. Pepper, not knowing exactly what to say to this, wisely said
nothing. Meantime, Jappy and the little Peppers were having a
sorry time over in the corner by themselves.

"Well, I'll write," cried Jasper, not liking to look at Polly just then,
as he was sure he shouldn't want anyone to look at him, if he felt
like crying. "And you must answer 'em all."

"Oh, we will! we will!" they cried. "And Jappy, do come next
summer," said Joel.

"If father'll only say yes, we will, I tell you!" he responded eagerly.

"Come, my boy," said his father the third time; and Jasper knew by
the tone that there must be no delay.

Mr. King had been nervously putting his hand in his pocket during
the last few moments that the children were together; but when he
glanced at Mrs. Pepper's eyes, something made him draw it out
again hastily, as empty as he put it in. "No, 'twouldn't do," he said
to himself; "she isn't the kind of woman to whom one could offer
money."

The children crowded back their tears, and hastily said their last
good-bye, some of them hanging on to Prince till the last moment.

And then the carriage door shut with a bang, Jasper giving them a
bright parting smile, and they were gone.

And the Peppers went into their little brown house, and shut the
door.

GETTING A CHRISTMAS FOR THE LITTLE ONES

And so October came and went. The little Peppers were very
lonely after Jasper had gone; even Mrs. Pepper caught herself
looking up one day when the wind blew the door open suddenly,
half expecting to see the merry whole-souled boy, and the faithful
dog come scampering in.

But the letters came--and that was a comfort; and it was fun to
answer them. The first one spoke of Jasper's being under a private
tutor, with his cousins; then they were less frequent, and they knew
he was studying hard. Full of anticipations of Christmas himself,
he urged the little Peppers to try for one. And the life and spirit of
the letter was so catching, that Polly and Ben found their souls
fired within them to try at least to get for the little ones a taste of
Christmastide.

"Now, mammy," they said at last, one day in the latter part of
October, when the crisp, fresh air filled their little healthy bodies
with springing vitality that must bubble over and rush into
something, "we don't want a Thanksgiving--truly we don't. But
may we try for a Christmas--just a little one," they added, timidly,
"for the children?" Ben and Polly always called the three younger
ones of the flock "the children."

To their utter surprise, Mrs. Pepper looked mildly assenting, and
presently she said-- "Well, I don't see why you can't try; 'twon't do
any harm, I'm sure."

You see Mrs. Pepper had received a letter from Jasper, which at
present she didn't feel called upon to say anything about.

"Now," said Polly, drawing a long breath, as she and Ben stole
away into a corner to "talk over" and lay plans, "what does it
mean?"

"Never mind," said Ben; "as long as she's given us leave I don't
care what it is."

"I neither," said Polly, with the delicious feeling as if the whole
world were before them where to choose; "it'll be just gorgeous,
Ben!"

"What's that?" asked Ben, who was not as much given to long
words as Polly, who dearly loved to be fine in language as well as
other things.

"Oh, it's something Jappy said one day; and I asked him, and he
says it's fine, and lovely, and all that," answered Polly, delighted
that she knew something she could really tell Ben.

"Then why not say fine?" commented Ben, practically, with a little
upward lift of his nose.

"Oh, I'd know, I'm sure," laughed Polly. "Let's think what'll we do
for Christmas--how many weeks are there, anyway, Ben?" And she
began to count on her fingers.

"That's no way," said Ben, "I'm going to get the Almanac." So he
went to the old clock where hanging up by its side, was a "Farmer's
Almanac."

"Now, we'll know," he said, coming back to their corner. So with
heads together they consulted and counted up till they found that
eight weeks and three days remained in which to get ready.

"Dear me!" said Polly. "It's most a year, isn't it, Ben?"

"'Twon't be much time for us," said Ben, who thought of the many
hours to be devoted to hard work that would run away with the
time. "We'd better begin right away, Polly."

"Well, all right," said Polly, who could scarcely keep her fingers
still, as she thought of the many things she should so love to do if
she could. "But first, Ben, what let's do?"

"Would you rather hang up their stockings?" asked Ben, as if he
had unlimited means at his disposal; "or have a tree?"

"Why," said Polly, with wide open eyes at the two magnificent
ideas, "we haven't got anything to put in the stockings when we
hang 'em, Ben."

"That's just it," said Ben. "Now, wouldn't it be better to have a tree,
Polly? I can get that easy in the woods, you know."

"Well," interrupted Polly, eagerly, "we haven't got anything to hang
on that, either, Ben. You know Jappy said folks hang all sorts of
presents on the branches. So I don't see," she continued,
impatiently, "as that's any good. We can't do anything, Ben Pepper,
so there! there isn't anything to do anything with," and with a
flounce Polly sat down on the old wooden stool, and folding her
hands looked at Ben in a most despairing way.

"I know," said Ben, "we haven't got much."

"We haven't got anything," said Polly, still looking at him. "Why,
we've got a tree," replied Ben, hopefully. "Well, what's a tree,"
retorted Polly, scornfully. "Anybody can go out and look at a tree
outdoors."

"Well, now, I tell you, Polly," said Ben, sitting down on the floor
beside her, and speaking very slowly and decisively, "we've got to
do something 'cause we've begun; and we might make a tree real
pretty."

"How?" asked Polly, ashamed of her ill-humor, but not in the least
seeing how anything could be made of a tree. "How, Ben Pepper?"

"Well," said Ben, pleasantly, "we'd set it up in the corner--"

"Oh, no, not in the corner," cried Polly, whose spirits began to rise
a little as she saw Ben so hopeful. "Put it in the middle of the
room, do!"

"I don't care where you put it," said Ben, smiling, happy that
Polly's usual cheerful energy had returned, "but I thought.--'twill be
a little one, you know, and I thought 'twould look better in the
corner."

"What else?" asked Polly, eager to see how Ben would dress the
tree.

"Well," said Ben, "you know the Henderson boys gave me a lot of
corn last week."

"I don't see as that helps much," said Polly, still incredulous. "Do
you mean hang the cobs on the branches, Ben? That would be just
dreadful!"

"I should think likely," laughed Ben. "No, indeed, Polly Pepper!
but if we should pop a lot, oh! a bushel, and then we should string
'em, we could wind it all in and out among the branches, and--"

"Why, wouldn't that be pretty?" cried Polly, "real pretty-- and we
can do that, I'm sure."

"Yes," continued Ben; "and then, don't you know, there's some
little candle ends in that box in the Provision Room, maybe
mammy'd give us them."

"I don't believe but she would," cried Polly; "twould be just like
Jappy's if she would! Let's ask her now--this very same minute!"

And they scampered hurriedly to Mrs. Pepper, who to their
extreme astonishment, after all, said "yes," and smiled
encouragingly on the plan.

"Isn't mammy good?" said Polly, with loving gratitude, as they
seated themselves again.

"Now we're all right," exclaimed Ben, "and I tell you we can make
the tree look perfectly splendid, Polly Pepper!"

"And I'll tell you another thing, Ben," Polly said, "oh! something
elegant! You must get ever so many hickory nuts; and you know
those bits of bright paper I've got in the bureau drawer? Well, we
can paste them on to the nuts and hang 'em on for the balls Jappy
tells of."

"Potty," cried Ben, "it'll be such a tree as never was, won't it?"

"Yes; but dear me," cried Polly, springing up, "the children are
coming! Wasn't it good, grandma wanted 'em to come over this
afternoon, so's we could talk! Now hush!" as the door opened to
admit the noisy little troop.

"If you think of any new plan," whispered Ben, behind his hand,
while Mrs. Pepper engaged their attention, "you'll have to come
out into the wood-shed to talk after this."

"I know it," whispered Polly back again; "oh! we've got just heaps
of things to think of, Bensie!"

Such a contriving and racking of brains as Polly and Ben set up
after this! They would bob over at each other, and smile with
significant gesture as a new idea would strike one of them, in the
most mysterious way that, if observed, would drive the others
almost wild. And then, frightened lest in some hilarious moment
the secret should pop out, the two conspirators would betake
themselves to the wood-shed as before agreed on. But Joel, finding
this out, followed them one day--or, as Polly said, tagged--so that
was no good.

"Let's go behind the wood-pile," she said to Ben, in desperation;
"he can't hear there, if we whisper real soft."

"Yes, he will," said Ben, who knew Joers hearing faculties much
better. "We'll have to wait till they're a-bed."

So after that, when nightfall first began to make its appearance,
Polly would hint mildly about bedtime.

"You hustle us so!" said Joel, after he had been sent off to bed for
two or three nights unusually early.

"Oh, Joey, it's good for you to get to bed," said Polly, coaxingly;
"it'll make you grow, you know, real fast,"

"Well, I don't grow a-bed," grumbled Joel, who thought something
was in the wind. "You and Ben are going to talk, I know, and wink
your eyes, as soon as we're gone."

"Well, go along, Joe, that's a good boy," said Polly, laughing, "and
you'll know some day."

"What'll you give me?" asked Joel, seeing a bargain, his foot on the
lowest stair leading to the loft, "say, Polly?"

"Oh, I haven't got much to give," she said, cheerily; "but I'll tell
you what, Joey--I'll tell you a story every day that you go to bed,"

"Will you?" cried Joe, hopping back into the room. "Begin now,
Polly, begin now!"

"Why, you haven't been to bed yet," said Polly, "so I can't till
to-morrow."

"Yes, I have--you've made us go for three--no, I guess fourteen
nights," said Joel, indignantly.

"Well, you were made to go," laughed Polly. "I said if you'd go
good, you know; so run along, Joe, and I'll tell you a nice one
to-morrow."

"It's got to be long," shouted Joel, when he saw he could get no
more, making good time up to the loft,

To say that Polly, in the following days, was Master Joel's slave,
was stating the case lightly. However, she thought by her
story-telling she got off easily, as each evening saw the boys drag
their unwilling feet to-bedward, and leave Ben and herself in peace
to plan and work undisturbed. There they would sit by the little old
table, around the one tallow candle, while Mrs. Pepper sewed
away busily, looking up to smile or to give some bits of advice;
keeping her own secret meanwhile, which made her blood leap
fast, as the happy thoughts nestled in her heart of her little ones
and their coming glee. And Polly made the loveliest of paper dolls
for Phronsie out of the rest of the bits of bright paper; and Ben
made windmills and whistles for the boys; and a funny little carved
basket with a handle, for Phronsie, out of a hickory nut shell; and a
new pink calico dress for Seraphina peered out from the top
drawer of the old bureau in the bedroom, whenever anyone opened
it--for Mrs. Pepper kindly let the children lock up their treasures
there as fast as completed.

"I'll make Seraphina a bonnet," said Mrs. Pepper, "for there's that
old bonnet-string in the bag, you know, Polly, that'll make it
beautiful."

"Oh, do, mother," cried Polly, "she's been wanting a new one
awfully."

"And I'm going to knit some mittens for Joel and David,"
continued Mrs. Pepper; "cause I can get the yarn cheap now. I saw
some down at the store yesterday I could have at half price."

"I don't believe anybody'll have as good a Christmas as we shall,"
cried Polly, pasting on a bit of trimming to the gayest doll's dress;
"no, not even Jappy."

An odd little smile played around Mrs. Pepper's mouth, but she
said not a word, and so the fun and the work went on.

The tree was to be set up in the Provision Room; that was finally
decided, as Mrs. Pepper showed the children how utterly useless it
would be to try having it in the kitchen.

"I'll find the key, children," she said, "I think I know where 'tis, and
then we can keep them out."

"Well, but it looks so," said Polly, demurring at the prospect.

"Oh, no, Polly," said her mother; "at any rate it's clean."

"Polly," said Ben, "we can put evergreen around, you know,

"So we can," said Polly, brightly; "oh, Ben, you do think of the best
things; we couldn't have had them in the kitchen."

"And don't let's hang the presents on the tree," continued Ben; "let's
have the children hang up their stockings; they want to,
awfully--for I heard David tell Joel this morning before we got
up--they thought I was asleep, but I wasn't--that he did so wish they
could, but, says he, 'Don't tell mammy, 'cause that'll make her feel
bad."

"The little dears!" said Mrs. Pepper, impulsively; "they shall have
their stockings, too."

"And we'll make the tree pretty enough," said Polly,
enthusiastically; "we shan't want the presents to hang on; we've got
so many things. And then we'll have hickory nuts to eat; and
perhaps mammy'll let us make some molasses candy the day
before," she said, with a sly look at her mother.

"You may," said Mrs. Pepper, smiling.

"Oh, goody!" they both cried, hugging each other ecstatically.

"And we'll have a frolic in the Provision Room afterwards,"
finished Polly; "oh! ooh!"

And so the weeks flew by--one, two, three, four, five, six, seven,
eight! till only the three days remained, and to think the fun that
Polly and Ben had had already!

"It's better'n a Christmas," they told their mother, "to get ready for
it!"

"It's too bad you can't hang up your stockings," said Mrs. Pepper,
looking keenly at their flushed faces and bright eyes; "you've never
himg'em up."

"That isn't any matter, mamsie," they both said, cheerily; "it's a
great deal better to have the children have a nice time--oh, won't it
be elegant! p'r'aps we'll have ours next year!"

For two days before, the house was turned upside down for Joel to
find the biggest stocking he could; but on Polly telling him it must
be his own, he stopped his search, and bringing down his well-
worn one, hung it by the corner of the chimney to be ready.

"You put yours up the other side, Dave," he advised.

"There isn't any nail," cried David, investigating.

"I'll drive one," said Joel, so he ran out to the tool-house, as one
corner of the wood-shed was called, and brought in the hammer
and one or two nails.

"Phronsie's a-goin' in the middle," he said, with a nail in his mouth.

"Yes, I'm a-goin' to hang up my stockin'," cried the child, hopping
from one toe to the other.

"Run get it, Phronsie," said Joel, "and I'll hang it up for you.

"Why, it's two days before Christmas yet," said Polly, laughing;
"how they'll look hanging there so long."

"I don't care," said Joel, giving a last thump to the nail; "we're
a-goin' to be ready. Oh, dear! I wish 'twas to-night!"

"Can't Seraphina hang up her stocking?" asked Phronsie, coming
up to Polly's side; "and Baby, too?"

"Oh, let her have part of yours," said Potty, "that'll be best--
Seraphina and Baby, and you have one stocking together."

"Oh, yes," cried Phronsie, easily pleased; "that'll be best." So for
the next two days, they were almost distracted; the youngest ones
asking countless questions about Santa Claus, and how he possibly
could get down the chimney, Joel running his head up as far as he
dared, to see if it was big enough.

"I guess he can," he said, coming back in a sooty state, looking
very much excited and delighted.

"Will he be black like Joey?" asked Phronsie, pointing to his grimy
face.

"No," said Polly; "he don't ever get black."

"Why?" they all asked; and then, over and over, they wanted the
delightful mystery explained.

"We never'll get through this day," said Polly in despair, as the last
one arrived. "I wish 'twas to-night, for we're all ready,"

"Santy's coming! Santy's coming!" sang Phronsie, as the bright
afternoon sunlight went down over the fresh, crisp snow, "for it's
night now."

"Yes, Santa is coming!" sang Polly; and "Santa Claus is acoming,"
rang back and forth through the old kitchen, till it seemed as if the
three little old stockings would hop down and join in the dance
going on so merrily.

"I'm glad mine is red," said Phronsie, at last, stopping in the wild
jig, and going up to see if it was all safe, "cause then Santy'll know
it's mine, won't he, Polly?"

"Yes, dear," cried Polly, catching her up. "Oh, Phronsie! you are
going to have a Christmas!"

"Well, I wish," said Joel, "I had my name on mine! I know Dave'll
get some of my things."

"Oh, no, Joe," said Mrs. Pepper, "Santa Claus is smart; he'll know
yours is in the left-hand corner."

"Will he?" asked Joel, still a little fearful.

"Oh, yes, indeed," said Mrs. Pepper, confidently. "I never knew
him to make a mistake."

"Now," said Ben, when they had all made a pretence of eating
supper, for there was such an excitement prevailing that no one sat
still long enough to eat much, "you must every one fly off to bed as
quick as ever can be."

"Will Santa Claus come faster then?" asked Joel.

"Yes," said Ben, "just twice as fast."

"I'm going, then," said Joel; "but I ain't going to sleep, 'cause I
mean to hear him come over the roof; then I'm going to get up, for
I do so want a squint at the reindeer!"

"I am, too," cried Davie, excitedly. "Oh, do come, Joe!" and he
began to mount the stairs.

"Good night," said Phronsie, going up to the centre of the
chimney-piece, where the little red stocking dangled limpsily, "lift
me up, Polly, do."

"What you want to do?" asked Polly, running and giving her a
jump. "What you goin' to do, Phronsie?"

"I want to kiss it good night," said the child, with eyes big with
anticipation and happiness, hugging the well worn toe of the little
old stocking affectionately. "I wish I had something to give Santa,
Polly, I do!" she cried, as she held her fast in her arms.

"Never mind, Pet," said Potty, nearly smothering her with kisses;
"if you're a good girl, Phronsie, that pleases Santa the most of
anything."

"Does it?" cried Phronsie, delighted beyond measure, as Polly
carried her into the bedroom, "then I'll be good always,

I will!"

CHRISTMAS BELLS!

In the middle of the night Polly woke up with a start.

"What in the world!" said she, and she bobbed up her head and
looked over at her mother, who was still peacefully sleeping, and
was just going to lie down again, when a second noise out in the
kitchen made her pause and lean on her elbow to listen. At this
moment she thought she heard a faint whisper, and springing out
of bed she ran to Phronsie's crib-- it was empty! As quick as a flash
she sped out into the kitchen. There, in front of the chimney, were
two figures. One was Joel, and the other, unmistakably, was
Phronsie!

"What are you doing?" gasped Polly, holding on to a chair.

The two little night-gowns turned around at this.

"Why, I thought it was morning," said Joel, "and I wanted my
stocking. Oh!" as he felt the toe, which was generously stuffed,
"give it to me, Polly Pepper, and I'll run right back to bed again!"

"Dear me!" said Polly; "and you, too, Phronsie! Why, it's the
middle of the night! Did I ever!" and she had to pinch her mouth
together tight to keep from bursting out into a loud laugh. "Oh,
dear, I shall laugh! don't look so scared, Phronsie, there won't
anything hurt you." For Phronsie who, on hearing Joel fumbling
around the precious stockings, had been quite willing to hop out of
bed and join him, had now, on Polly's saying the dire words "in the
middle of the night," scuttled over to her protecting side like a
frightened rabbit.

"It never'll be morning," said Joel taking up first one cold toe and
then the other; "you might let us have 'em now, Polly,

"No," said Polly sobering down; "you can't have yours till Davie
wakes up, too. Scamper off to bed, Joey, dear, and forget all about
'em--and it'll be morning before you know it."

"Oh, I'd rather go to bed," said Phronsie, trying to tuck up her feet
in the little flannel night-gown, which was rather short, "but I don't
know the way back, Polly. Take me, Polly, do," and she put up her
arms to be carried.

"Oh, I ain't a-goin' back alone, either," whimpered Joel, coming up
to Polly, too.

"Why, you came down alone, didn't you?" whispered Polly, with a
little laugh.

"Yes, but I thought 'twas morning," said Joel, his teeth chattering
with something beside the cold.

"Well, you must think of the morning that's coming," said Polly,
cheerily. "I'll tell you--you wait till I put Phronsie into the crib, and
then I'll come back and go half-way up the stairs with you."

"I won't never come down till it's mornin' again," said Joel,
bouncing along the stairs, when Polly was ready to go with him, at
a great rate.

"Better not," laughed Polly, softly. "Be careful and not wake Davie
nor Ben."

'Tm in," announced Joel, in a loud whisper; and Polly could hear
him snuggle down among the warm bedclothes. "Call us when 'tis
mornin', Polly."

"Yes," said Polly, "I will; go to sleep."

Phronsie had forgotten stockings and everything else on Polly's
return, and was fast asleep in the old crib. The result of it was that
the children slept over, when morning did really come; and Polly
had to keep her promise, and go to the foot of the stairs and call--
"MErmy CHRISTMAS! oh, Ben! and Joel! and Davie!"

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