Part 22 (2/2)

”But we haven't any white flour, Polly,” began her mother. ”I know,”

said Polly; ”but we'll make 'em of brown, it'll do, if you'll give us some raisins--you know there's some in the bowl, mammy.”

”I was saving them for a nest egg,” said Mrs. Pepper; meaning at some future time to indulge in another plum-pudding that the children so loved.

”Well, do give 'em to us,” cried Polly; ”do, ma!”

”I want 'em for a plum-pudding sometime,” said Mrs. Pepper.

”Ow!--” and Joel with a howl sprung up from the floor where he had been trying to make a cart for ”Baby” out of an old box, and joined Mrs.

Pepper and Polly. ”No, don't give 'em away, ma!” he screamed; ”let's have our plum-pudding--now, Polly Pepper, you're a-goin' to bake up all our raisins in nasty little cakes--and--”

”Joey!” commanded Mrs. Pepper, ”hus.h.!.+ what word did you say!”

”Well,” blubbered Joel, wiping his tears away with his grimy little hand, ”Polly's--a-goin'--to give--”

”I should rather you'd never have a plum-pudding than to say such words,” said Mrs. Pepper, sternly, taking up her work again. ”And besides, do you think what Jasper has done for you?” and her face grew very white around the lips.

”Well, he can have plum-puddings,” said Joel, whimpering, ”forever an'

ever, if he wants them--and--and--”

”Well, Joey,” said Polly, ”there, don't feel bad,” and she put her arms around him, and tried to wipe away the tears that still rolled down his cheeks. ”We won't give 'em if you don't want us to; but Jasper's sick, and there isn't anything for him to do, and--” here she whispered slyly up into his ear, ”don't you remember how you liked folks to send you things when you had the measles?”

”Yes, I know,” said Joel, beginning to smile through his tears; ”wasn't it fun, Polly?”

”I guess 'twas,” laughed Polly back again, pleased at the return of suns.h.i.+ne. ”Well, Jasper'll be just as pleased as you were, 'cause we love him and want to do somethin' for him, he was so good to Phronsie.”

”I will, Polly, I will,” cried Joel, completely won over; ”do let's make 'em for him; and put 'em in thick; oh! thick as you can;” and determined to do nothing by halves, Joel ran generously for the precious howl of raisins, and after setting it on the table, began to help Polly in all needful preparations.

Mrs. Pepper smiled away to herself to see happiness restored to the little group. And soon a pleasant hum and bustle went on around the baking table, the centre of attraction.

”Now,” said Phronsie, coming up to the table and standing on tip-toe to see Polly measure out the flour, ”I'm a-goin' to bake something for my sick man, I am.”

”Oh, no, Phronsie, you can't,” began Polly.

”Hey?” asked Joel, with a daub of flour on the tip of his chubby nose, gained by too much peering into Polly's flour-bag. ”What did she say, Polly?” watching her shake the clouds of flour in the sieve.

”She said she was goin' to bake something for Jasper,” said Polly.

”There,” as she whisked in the flour, ”now that's done.”

”No, I didn't say Jasper,” said Phronsie; ”I didn't say Jasper,” she repeated, emphatically.

”Why, what did you say, Pet?” asked Polly, astonished, while little Davie repeated, ”What did you say, Phronsie?”

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