Five Little Peppers at School Part 18

"I surely should," decided Alexia--"that pretty pale pink one that Polly gave you last, Phronsie."

"I am so very glad you said that one," said Phronsie, running over on happy feet for her ribbon-basket, "because I do love that ribbon very much, Alexia."

"Well, now then," said Alexia, as Phronsie began to tie up the pink bow laboriously, "we must hurry and begin, or we never shall see what happened to this 'Little Yellow Duck.'"

"Oh, do hurry, Alexia," begged Phronsie, as if she hadn't heard the story on an average of half a dozen times a week. So Alexia propped herself up against the wall, and began, and presently it was so still that all any one could hear was the turning of the leaves and the ticking of the little French clock on the mantel.

"Well, dear me, how funny!" and Polly rushed in; then burst into a merry laugh.

"Polly Pepper--you home!" Alexia tossed "The Little Yellow Duck" half across the room, flew to her feet again, and spun Polly round and round with her well hand.

"Yes," said Polly, "I am, and I've been searching for you two all over this house."

"Take me, Polly, do." Phronsie laid down Almira carefully on the carpet, and hurried over to Polly.

"I guess I will. Now then, all together!" and the three spun off until out of breath.

"Oh dear me!" Polly stopped suddenly. "I never thought of your arm, Alexia. Oh, do you suppose we've hurt it?" It was so very dreadful to think of, that all the color deserted her cheek.

"Nonsense, no!" declared Alexia, "that spin put new life into me, Polly."

"Well, I don't know," said Polly critically; "at any rate, we mustn't do it any more. And we must tell Papa-Doctor about it as soon as he gets home."

"Oh, what good is it to worry him?" cried Alexia carelessly. "Well, Polly, tell all the news about school," as they hurried downstairs to get ready for luncheon.

"We must tell Papa-Doctor everything about it, Alexia," said Polly in her most decided fas.h.i.+on, putting her arm carefully around Alexia's waist; and with Phronsie hanging to the other hand, down they went, Polly retailing the last bit of school news fresh that day.

"And, oh, Alexia, Miss Salisbury said we are not to have the picnic until you get quite well; she said so in the big schoolroom, before us all."

"Did she, Polly?" cried Alexia, immensely gratified.

"Yes, she did." Polly stood on her tiptoes at the imminent danger of going on her nose, and pulling the other's down, to get a kiss on the long sallow cheek. "She said it very distinctly, Alexia, and all the girls talked about it afterward."

"Well, she's a dear old thing," exclaimed Alexia, with remorseful little pangs at the memory of certain episodes at the 'Salisbury School,' "and I shall try--oh, Polly, I'll try so hard to be nice and please her."

Polly gave her two or three little pats on her back.

"And don't you think," cried Polly, flying off to brush her hair, and calling back through the open door, "that the boys are going to have their club meet with ours. Just think of that!"

"Oh Polly!" Alexia came flying in, brush in hand. "You _don't_ really mean it!"

"I do. Jasper just told me so. Well, hurry, Alexia, else we'll be late,"

warned Polly, brus.h.i.+ng away vigorously. "Yes, Phronsie,"--for Phronsie had gone off for Jane to put on a clean ap.r.o.n,--"we're ready now--that is, almost."

"When--when?" Polly could hear Alexia frantically asking, as she rushed back into her room, which was next to Polly's own.

"Oh, just as soon as you are able," called Polly. "Now don't ask any more questions, Alexia," she begged merrily. "Yes, Mamsie, we're coming!"

That afternoon, Percy and Joel were rus.h.i.+ng back to school from an errand down to the village, and hurrying along with an awful feeling that the half-past-five bell in the big tower on the playground would strike in a minute.

"Hold on," called Percy, considerably in the rear; "how you get over the ground, Joe!"

"And you're such a snail," observed Joel pleasantly. Nevertheless he paused.

"What's that?" p.r.i.c.king up his ears.

"I don't hear anything." Percy came up panting.

"Of course not, when you're puffing like a grampus."

"What's a grampus?" asked Percy irritably.

"I don't know," said Joel honestly.

"Well, I wouldn't say words I didn't know what they meant," said Percy in a patronizing tone, and trying not to realize that he was very hot.

"Well, do keep still, will you!" roared Joel. "There, there it is again." He stooped down, and peered within a hedge. "Something's crying in here."

"You'll get your eyes scratched out, most likely, by an old, cross cat,"

suggested Percy.

Joel, who cared very little for that or any warning, was now on his knees. "Oh whickets!" he exclaimed, dragging out a small yellow dog, who, instead of struggling, wormed himself all up against his rescuer, whining pitifully.

"He's hurt," declared Joel, tossing back his stubby locks, and patting the dog, who stopped whining, and licked him all over, as much of his face and hands as he could reach.

"Oh, that dirty thing--faugh! How can you, Joel Pepper!" cried Percy in distress.

But Joel didn't even hear him, being occupied in setting the dog on the ground to try his paces.

"No, he's not hurt, after all, I guess," he decided, "but look at his ribs,--he's half starved."

"I don't want to look at them," said Percy, turning his back, "and you ought to let him alone; that bell will ring in half a second, Joel Pepper!"

"True enough!" cried Joel. "Come on, Perky," this being the school name of the older Whitney, and he picked up the dog, and shot off.

"What are you going to do with that dog?" yelled Percy after him. But as well talk to the wind, as Joel arrived hot and breathless at the big door long before him.

Luckily for him, none of the boys were about; and Joel, cramming the dog well under his jacket, plunged up the stairs, and down the hall to his room.

"Joe!" roared two or three voices; but he turned a deaf ear, and got in safely; slammed to the door, and then drew a long breath.

"_Whew!_ Almost caught that time," was all he had the wind to say.

"Well, now, it's good Dave isn't in, 'cause I can tell him slowly, and get him used to it." All this time he was drawing out his dog from its place of refuge, and putting it first on the bed, then on the floor, to study it better.

It certainly was as far removed from being even a good-looking dog as possible. Having never in its life had the good fortune to hear its pedigree spoken of, it was simply an ill-favored cur that looked as if it had exchanged the back yard of a tenement house for the greater dangers of the open street. Its yellow neck was marked where a cruel cord had almost worn into the flesh, and every one of its ribs stuck out as Joel had said, till they insisted on being counted by a strict observer.

Joel threw his arms around the beast. "Oh dear!" he groaned, "you're starved to death. What have I got to give you?" He wrinkled his forehead in great distress. "Oh goody!" He s.n.a.t.c.hed the dog up, and bore him to the closet, then pulled down a box from the shelf above. "Mamsie's cake--how prime!" And not stopping to cut a piece, he broke off a goodly wedge. "Now then, get in with you," and he thrust him deep into one corner, cramming the cake up to his nose. "Stay there on my side, and don't get over on Dave's shoes. _Whee!_"