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Joel cried on and on, his tears trailing off into the gra.s.s, till at last, as Polly took no notice of him, he raised his head to look in at the window at her. She didn't seem to see him, but sewed on and on quite composedly, as if Joel were not there. So he finally jumped up, and seeing his tin pail overturned on its side, he hurried to investigate.
"Oh, my worms have all run off!" he shouted. "Polly, the bad old things have every single one of 'em run away!" and he beat the bottom of the pail with the broken iron spoon in his vexation.
"Joel Pepper!" cried Polly, a little red spot coming in either cheek as she flung down her work on the floor by Phronsie's calico bit, "that's twice you've made a most awful noise; now you'll wake Davie up again, you bad, naughty boy," and without stopping to think, she dashed out doors, and before Joel could hardly breathe, she seized his shoulders and shook him smartly.
"Oh, what have I done! What have I done!" she exclaimed, and throwing herself down on the gra.s.s, she covered her face with her hands, waving back and forth in distress.
"You shook me!" cried Joel, his black eyes sparkling in anger.
"Now I'll beat you, Polly Pepper," and he raised the old broken iron spoon. There they were--two little Peppers--oh, dreadful, to tell it--and Mamsie away!
"You may, Joe," said Polly, brokenly, and rocking back and forth, while the big tears dripped down between her fingers, "for I've been bad to you, and Mamsie away." She could hardly speak for her sobs. "How could I! Oh, Joey, I'm so sorry. O dear--dear--dear!"
She went off now into such a gust of crying, that Joel forgot all about his anger. He threw away the spoon, and kneeling beside her, he put his arms about her neck. "Don't cry, Polly,"
he begged, "please don't."
"I can't help it, Joe," said Polly, struggling with her sobs. "O dear me! I can't ever forgive myself. I don't see how I came to do it. O dear me!"
At last Joel, in despair, jumped to his feet. "I'm going to get Grandma Bascom."
"Oh, no, you mustn't, Joe," cried Polly, bringing a very red face suddenly to view, the tears running in little rivers down her nose and cheeks. "There, see! I'm not going to cry any more.
Come back, Joe," for he was starting off at a lively pace.
"Sure?" cried Joel, stopping a minute.
"Yes, I won't cry any more," cried poor Polly, swallowing very hard--"there, see, Joey dear," and she wiped off the last tear.
"Now I'll help you dig some more worms," she said, racking her brains to think of something by which to make up to Joel for the shaking.
"Will you?" cried Joel, in delight. "Oh, Polly, how nice! Here's the spoon--here's the spoon," and he ran and picked it out of the long gra.s.s.
"Yes, I will," promised Polly, stifling a sigh as she thought of the work to be made up in some way on the coat seams.
"And I'll sit here and see you," remarked Joel, doubling up in an easy position on the gra.s.s, "'cause you see there isn't but one spoon, Polly. Now dig a good lot," he said with a restful stretch.
So Polly dug and dug away, being careful to select long, fat worms. And presently there was a good number all wriggling away in the bottom of the pail. And at last Joel hopped up and peered in. "Oh, Polly, what a lot! An' they're juicy ones, and a great deal better'n mine. Now I guess I'll catch some fish, an' you shall fry 'em for supper." He seized the pail, and slung the pole over his shoulder again, and trudged off.
"All right," said Polly, with a loving little pat, "and oh, Joey, I'm so sorry I was cross and shook you."
"I don't care," said Joel, pleasantly, "'cause you dug my worms for me, Polly," and he raced off.
But Polly went into the little brown house with a very sober face. And it wasn't till all the children, Ben and all, were abed that night, and she crept into Mamsie's arms and sobbed it all out on her breast, that she felt better and like being Polly again.
Joel rushed through the undergrowth and tangle of berry bushes, breaking through the wild grape vines that slapped him in the face and caught his pole; and, creeping and ducking under them, at last he struck the little path to the Cherry Brook, that gurgled its way along Farmer Brown's meadow. Underneath the cool trees it was dank and mossy, and he flung himself down to rest, first carefully setting his precious pail up against a big stone.
"I'm just goin' to catch the biggest fish you ever saw, Joel Pepper," he exclaimed to himself, for want of company. "Yes sir-_ree_," untwisting the string which, for want of a fis.h.i.+ng line, he had tied to his pole. "Then I guess, when Polly sees it, she'll be glad. Now I'll get the very juiciest worm in the pail."
So he went to the pail, and was just leaning over to investigate its depths, when he heard voices.
Joel knew in a minute whose they were, and he tried to scrabble his things together and run and hide them in the thick bushes, when the boys to whom the voices belonged broke through the undergrowth on the other side of the brook.
"It's the Pepper boy," said one of them in an awful whisper.
Then they stood still a minute, all three staring at each other.
At last Joel picked up his pole and started to march away.
"Hold on," called one of the boys, the biggest and dirtiest, and he jumped across the brook. Joel went steadily along as well as he could for the vines and stubby trees, determined not to turn back for anybody's call, at any rate that dirty Jim Belden.
But Jim gave him no chance to think, and the first thing he knew, Joel was seized roughly by the shoulder. "Gimme them worms," and Jim tugged at the handle of the pail.
"I won't; they're my worms," screamed Joel, hanging on for dear life; "so there, now! you go right away. Polly dug 'em, Polly dug 'em," he kept saying. But the scuffle was short, as the other boy raced up, and pulled too, so that pretty soon Joel was tumbled heels over head, into the brook, and the pail was in the hands of the biggest boy, who cried out joyfully, "Oh, see what a lot! now we'll go up to th' 'Pool.'" This was a deep spot a half mile or so away, where the stream widened. Mrs. Pepper never allowed the two boys to go there, unless Ben could go too, which was seldom indeed, and only looked upon as a very great treat.
Joel burst out in a great pa.s.sion, as soon as he could scramble out of the brook, "Give me back my pail!" and he looked so very fierce, although he was so small, that without another word the other two ran away as fast as they could. Joel plunged after them, angrier every minute, and instead of turning off to the "Pool,"
Jim and the other boy ran straight across Deacon Brown's field.
"Oh, now he'll catch 'em," thought Joel, joyfully, without a thought of giving up the race. There was a man off in the further corner of the field. "Mr. Br-own," screamed Joel, shrilly. "Mr. Br-own!"
Jim and the other boy, seeing their mistake, turned off to the undergrowth. "Hold on there!" commanded Deacon Brown, in a dreadful voice. So there was nothing to do but stop.
[Ill.u.s.tration: "'GIVE ME BACK MY PAIL!'"]
But when he got to the spot where they stood rooted to the ground, there were no worms in the pail, they having been jiggled out in the chase. So Joel had to go back, and pick up his pole with the string hanging to it, and carry that home and his empty pail. "But that Jim Belden didn't have the worms, anyway," he said, with great satisfaction.
VIII
WHY THEY SAID NO
Ben came in and hung his cap up on its peg behind the door.
Polly didn't see his face, for she was tying on Phronsie's eating ap.r.o.n, and Mother Pepper was in the pantry, else some one would have discovered that he was strangely excited.
"Come," said Polly, "we can't wait any longer for those boys.
Can we, Mamsie?" she called.
"No, we better sit down," said Mrs. Pepper, coming out with a plate in her hand. "I'm sorry they're late, for I've got a surprise for you all to-night." She set the plate on the table, and her black eyes sparkled. "Now, then, see that!"
"Ooh!" cried Polly, her brown eyes very wide, while Phronsie stopped climbing into her chair to precipitate herself into the midst of the group. "See, Ben! See!" exclaimed Polly, "it's white cake with real frosting on top. Oh, Mammy, where did you get it?"
Ben looked at the six big slices lying across the plate, but he didn't seem to see them. However, Polly didn't notice, for she was dancing around the table with Phronsie, to see which side the cake looked the best.
"White on top--real white on top!" sang Phronsie, beating her little hands together.
"I know it," cried Polly, almost as much excited. "Oh, how I wish those two boys were here! Mamsie, where _did_ you get it? from dear Mrs. Henderson, I s'pose."
"No, guess again," said Mrs. Pepper, cheerily. Then she looked at Ben steadily out of her black eyes. "I was going past Miss Barber's, and she knocked on the window, and when I stopped she ran out, and gave it to me all done up. 'I've been watching for you,' she said, 'for I knew you were helping at Deacon Brown's to-day. We had comp'ny last night, and I want you to have some of sister's cake. She's had real good luck.' So that's all the story about the cake, Polly." Mother Pepper still looked at Ben, though she spoke as cheerily as ever.
"I'm so glad Miss Barber did have company last night," said Polly, her mouth watering for the taste of "sister's cake."
"I want a piece," said Phronsie, stopping her dance suddenly, to hold out both hands.