Part 1 (1/2)

Five Little Peppers and their Friends.

by Margaret Sidney.

PREFACE.

There were so many interesting friends of the Five Little Peppers, whose lives were only the faintest of outlines in the series ending when Phronsie was grown up, that a volume devoted to this outer circle has been written to meet the persistent demand.

Herein the author records many happenings that long ago Ben and Polly, Joel and David told her. And even Phronsie whispered some of it confidentially into the listening ear. ”Tell about Rachel, please,”

she begged; and Margaret Sidney promised to write it all down some day.

And that day seems to have arrived in which it all should be recorded and the promise fulfilled. For the Five Little Peppers loved their friends very dearly, and were loyal and true to them. And hand in hand, the circle widening ever, they lived and loved as this history records.

MARGARET SIDNEY.

I

A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA

”I wish,” said Phronsie slowly, ”that you'd come in, little girl.”

”Can't.” The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best chance.

”Please do,” begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; ”I very much wish you would.”

”Can't,” repeated the girl on the outside. ”Cop won't let me.”

”Who?” asked Phronsie, much puzzled and beginning to look frightened.

”Perlice.” The girl nodded briefly, taking her face away from the iron railings enough to accomplish that ceremony. Then she plastered her nose up against its support again, and stared at Phronsie with all her might.

”Oh,” said Phronsie, with a little laugh that chased away her fright, ”there isn't any big policeman here. This is Grandpapa's garden.”

”'Tain't, it's the perliceman's; everything's the perliceman's,”

contradicted the girl, snapping one set of grimy fingers defiantly.

”Oh, no,” said Phronsie, softly but very decidedly, ”this is my dear Grandpapa's home, and the big policeman can't get in here, ever.”

”Oh, you ninny!” The girl staring at her through the railings stopped a minute to laugh, covering both hands over her mouth to smother the sound.

”The perlice can go everywheres they want to. I guess some of 'em's in heaven now, spyin' round.”

Phronsie dropped the doll she was carrying close to her bosom, to concentrate all her gaze up toward the sky, in wide-eyed amazement that allowed her no opportunity to carry on the conversation.

”An' I couldn't no more get into this 'ere garden than I could into heaven,” the girl on the outside said at last, to bring back the blue eyes to earth, ”so don't you think it, you. But, oh, my, don't I wish I could, though!”

There was so much longing in the voice that Phronsie brought her gaze down from the policemen in their heavenly work to the eyes staring at her. And she clasped her hands together tightly, and hurried up to lay her face against the big iron gate and close to that of the girl.

”He won't hurt you, the big policeman won't,” she whispered softly. ”I'll take hold of your hand, and tell him how it is, if he gets in. Come.”