Five Little Peppers and How They Grew by Margaret Sidney (buy e reader .TXT) 📖

said little Dick, crossly, and giving his head another shake. “He was up in the hall—oh, dear, I want to get down,” and he began to stretch his legs and to struggle with so much energy, that two or three pieces fell off, and landed on the floor to his intense delight.

“And how did you fall then?” said Jasper, perseveringly. “Can't you remember, Dicky, boy?”

“I pushed Princey,” said Dick, feeling, with freedom from some of his encumbrances, more disposed for conversation, “and made him go ahead—and then I fell on top of him—that's all.”

“I guess Prince has saved him, father,” cried Jasper, turning around with eyes full of pride and love on the dog, who was trying as hard as he could to tell all the children how much he enjoyed their caresses.

And so it all came about that the consultation so summarily interrupted was never held. For, as Mrs. Whitney was about retiring that evening, Mr. King rapped at her door, on his way to bed.

“Oh,” he said popping in his head, in response to her invitation to come in, “it's nothing—only I thought I'd just tell you a word or two about what I've decided to do.”

“Do you mean what you wanted to see me about this afternoon?” asked Mrs. Whitney, who hadn't thought of it since. “Do come in, father.”

“It's no consequence,” said the old gentleman; “no consequence at all,” he repeated, waving his hand emphatically, “because I've made up my mind and arranged all my plans—it's only about the Peppers—”

“The Peppers?” repeated Mrs. Whitney.

“Yes. Well, the fact of it is, I'm going to have them here for a visit—the whole of them, you understand; that's all there is to it. And I shall go down to see about all the arrangements—Jasper and I—day after to-morrow,” said the old gentleman, as if he owned the whole Pepper family inclusive, and was the only responsible person to be consulted about their movements.

“Will they come?” asked Mrs. Whitney, doubtfully.

“Come? of course,” said Mr. King, sharply, “there isn't any other way; or else Mrs. Pepper will be sending for her children—and of course you know, Marian, we couldn't allow that—well, that's all; so good night,” and the door closed on his retreating footsteps.

And so Polly and Phronsie soon knew that mamsie and the boys were to be invited! And then the grand house, big as it was, didn't seem large enough to contain them.

“I declare,” said Jasper, next day, when they had been laughing and planning till they were all as merry as grigs, “if this old dungeon don't begin to seem a little like 'the little brown house,' Polly.”

“Twon't,” answered Polly, hopping around on one toe, followed by Phronsie, “till mamsie and the boys get here, Jasper King!”

“Well, they'll be here soon,” said Jappy, pleased at Polly's exultation over it, “for we're going to-morrow to do the inviting.”

“And Polly's to write a note to slip into Marian's,” said Mr. King, putting his head in at the door. “And if you want your mother to come, child, why, you'd better mention it as strong as you can.”

“I'm going to write,” said Phronsie, pulling up after a prolonged skip, all out of breath. “I'm going to write, and beg mamsie dear. Then she'll come, I guess.”

“I guess she will,” said Mr. King, looking at her. “You go on, Phronsie, and write; and that letter shall go straight in my coat pocket alone by itself.”

“Shall it?” asked Phronsie, coming up to him, “and nobody will take it out till you give it to mamsie?”

“No, nobody shall touch it,” said the old gentleman, stooping to kiss the upturned face, “till I put it into her own hand.”

“Then,” said Phronsie, in the greatest satisfaction, “I'm going to write this very one minute!” and she marched away to carry her resolve into immediate execution.

Before they got through they had quite a bundle of invitations and pleadings; for each of the three boys insisted on doing his part, so that when they were finally done up in an enormous envelope and put into Mr. King's hands, he told them with a laugh that there was no use for Jappy and himself to go, as those were strong enough to win almost anybody's consent.

However, the next morning they set off, happy in their hopes, and bearing the countless messages, which the children would come up every now and then to intrust to them, declaring that they had forgotten to put them in the letters.

“You'd had to have had an express wagon to carry the letters if you had put them all in,” at last cried Jasper. “You've given us a bushel of things to remember.”

“And oh! don't forget to ask Ben to bring Cherry,” cried Polly, the last minute as they were driving off although she had put it in her letter at least a dozen times; “and oh, dear! of course the flowers can't come.”

“We've got plenty here,” said Jasper. “You would not know what to do with them, Polly.”

“Well, I do wish mamsie would give some to kind Mrs. Henderson, then,” said Polly, on the steps, clasping her hands anxiously, while Jasper told Thomas to wait till he heard the rest of the message, “and to grandma—you know Grandma Bascom; she was so good to us,” she said impulsively. “And, oh! don't let her forget to carry some to dear, dear Dr. Fisher; and don't forget to give him our love, Jappy; don't forget that!” and Polly ran down the steps to the carriage door, where she gazed up imploringly to the boy's face.

“I guess I won't,” cried Jasper, “when I think how he saved your eyes, Polly! He's the best fellow I know!” he finished in an impulsive burst.

“And don't let mamsie forget to carry some in to good old Mr. and Mrs. Beebe in town—where Phronsie got her shoes, you know; that is, if mamsie can,” she added, remembering how very busy her mother would be.

“I'll carry them myself,” said Jasper; “we're going to stay over till the next day, you know.”

“O!” cried Polly, radiant as a rose, “will you, really, Jappy? you're so good!”

“Yes, I will,” said Jasper, “everything you want done, Polly; anything else?” he asked, quickly, as Mr. King, impatient to be off, showed unmistakable symptoms of hurrying up Thomas.

“Oh, no,” said Polly, “only do look at the little brown house, Jasper, as much as you can,” and Polly left the rest unfinished. Jasper seemed to understand, however, for he smiled brightly as he said, looking into the brown eyes, “I'll do it all, Polly; every single thing.” And then they were off.

Mamsie and the boys! could Polly ever wait till the next afternoon that would bring the decision?

Long before it was possibly time for the carriage to come back from the depot, Polly, with Phronsie and the three boys, who, improving Jasper's absence, had waited upon her with the grace and persistence of cavaliers of the olden time, were drawn up at the old stone gateway.

“Oh, dear,” said Van with an impatient fling; “they never will come!”

“Won't they, Polly?” asked Phronsie, anxiously, and standing quite still.

“Dear me, yes,” said Polly, with a little laugh, “Van only means they'll be a good while, Phronsie. They're sure to come some time.”

“Oh!” said Phronsie, quite relieved; and she commenced her capering again in extreme enjoyment.

“I'm going,” said little Dick, “to run down and meet them.” Accordingly off he went, and was immediately followed by Percy, who started with the laudable desire of bringing him back; but finding it so very enjoyable, he stayed himself and frolicked with Dick, till the others, hearing the fun, all took hold of hands and flew off to join them.

“Now,” said Polly, when they recovered their breath a little, “let's all turn our backs to the road; and the minute we hear the carriage we must whirl round; and the one who sees 'em first can ask first 'Is mamsie coming?”

“All right,” cried the boys.

“Turn round, Dick,” said Percy, with a little shove, for Dick was staring with all his might right down the road. And so they all flew around till they looked like five statues set up to grace the sidewalk.

“Suppose a big dog should come,” suggested Van, pleasantly, “and snap at our backs!”

At this little Dick gave a small howl, and turned around in a fright.

“There isn't any dog coming,” said Polly. “What does make you say such awful things, Van?”

“I hear a noise,” said Phronsie; and so they all whirled around in expectation. But it proved to be only a market wagon coming at a furious pace down the road, with somebody's belated dinner. So they all had to whirl back again as before. The consequence was that when the carriage did come, nobody heard it.

Jasper, looking out, was considerably astonished to see, drawn up in solemn array with their backs to the road, five children, who stood as if completely petrified.

“What in the world!” he began, and called to Thomas to stop, whose energetic “Whoa!” reaching the ears of the frozen line, caused it to break ranks, and spring into life at an alarming rate.

“Oh, is she coming Jappy? Is she? Is she?” they all screamed together, swarming up to the carriage door, and over the wheels.

“Yes,” said Jasper looking at Polly.

At that, Phronsie made a little cheese and sat right down on the pavement in an ecstasy.

“Get in here, all of you;” said Jasper merrily; “help Polly in first. For shame Dick! don't scramble so.”

“Dick always shoves,” said Percy, escorting Polly up with quite an air.

“I don't either,” said Dick; “you pushed me awful, just a little while ago,” he added indignantly.

“Do say awfully,” corrected Van, crowding up to get in. “You leave off your lys so,” he finished critically.

“I don't know anything about any lees,” said little Dick, who, usually so good natured, was now thoroughly out of temper; “I want to get in and go home,” and he showed evident symptoms of breaking into a perfect roar.

“There,” said Polly, lilting him up, “there he goes! now—one, two, three!” and little Dick was spun in so merrily that the tears changed into a happy laugh.

“Now then, bundle in, all the rest of you,” put in Mr. King, who seemed to be in the best of spirits. “That's it; go on, Thomas!”

“When are they coming?” Polly found time to ask in the general jumble.

“In three weeks from to-morrow,” said Jasper. “And everything's all right, Polly! and the whole of them, Cherry and all, will be here then!”

“Oh!” said Polly.

“Here we are!” cried Van, jumping out almost before the carriage door was open. “Mamma; mamma,” he shouted to Mrs. Whitney in the doorway, “the Peppers are coming, and the little brown house too!—everything and everybody!”

“They are!” said Percy, as wild as his brother; “and everything's just splendid! Jappy said so.”

“Everything's coming,” said little Dick, tumbling up the steps—“and the bird—and—and—”

“And mamsie!” finished Phronsie, impatient to add her part—while Polly didn't say anything—only looked.

Three weeks! “I can't wait!” thought Polly at first, in counting over the many hours before the happy day would come. But on Jasper's suggesting that they should all do something to get ready for the visitors, and have a general trimming up with vines and flowers beside—the time passed away much more rapidly than was feared.

Polly chose a new and more difficult piece of music to learn to surprise mamsie. Phronsie had aspired to an elaborate pin-cushion, that was nearly done, made of bits of worsted and canvas, over whose surface she had wandered according to her own sweet will, in a way charming to behold.

“I don't know what to do,” said Van in despair, “cause I don't know what she'd like.”

“Can't you draw her a little picture?” asked Polly. “She'd like that.”

“Does she like pictures?” asked Van with the greatest interest.

“Yes indeed!” said Polly, “I guess you'd think so if you could see her!”

“I know what I shall do,” with a dignified air said Percy, who couldn't draw,