Ben Pepper Part 43

"He's only just come from India," said Polly, feeling that a little more explanation was necessary before stating just how bad the monkey had been.

"Whar's dat?" asked Candace, in wonder.

"Oh, the other side of the world," said Polly, hastily; "and so you see--"

"De oder side ob de worl'," cried Candace. "My lan' o' Goshen, how you know dat? Who brung him?"

"Oh, the sailors; he came in a ship, and so you see, perhaps he learned some naughty tricks," said Polly, hoping that now the recital of the bad deeds would be softened enough to state her errand at the shop. "And so he didn't know any better, maybe, than to chew up Jasper's little cushion."

"He ain't gone an' chewed up dat ar pincushion you made Mas'r Jasper?"

cried the old woman.

"Yes, he has," said Polly, sorrowfully, her brown head drooping; "that is, he's bitten a hole in one corner, and got it all soiled and wet."

"An' you worked an' worked on dat ar pincushion," cried Candace, in a loud, wrathful tone. "I can see you now, honey. Don' you 'member how you brung it down here for Candace to match you some pink cord to go right round de aidge?"

"Yes," said Polly, "I remember, Candace."

"An' don' you 'member how I matched dat pink ribbin? Laws, you'd 'a'

thought it was jus' made for it, wouldn't you now, Miss Polly?"

"Yes," said Polly, drawing a long sigh, "I should, Candace."

"An' dat orful ole brack monkey has done gone an' chewed up dat nice little pincushion you made all alone by yourself, 'xcept such as I helped you." Candace drew herself up to her full height. "Well, he ought to hab eb'ry single one ob his teef pulled out," she declared, with a bob of her head that nearly unsettled her turban.

"Oh, no, Candace," protested Polly, in a tone of horror.

"Yes, he had, honey," declared Candace, decidedly, "'cause don' you see, he'll be a-chewin' up oder tings, like enough some o' Miss Phronsie's dolls." With that the same scared look swept over her fat face, till it looked quite gray again.

"Oh, Candace, we wouldn't ever let him do _that_!" cried Polly. And Ben hastened to say, "See here, Candace, don't you be afraid; we'll look out for those dolls."

"Will you for sh.o.r.e, Mas'r Ben?" cried Candace, grasping his arm with both sets of black fingers, which sent the big horn thimble flying off under the counter. "It would be mos' drefful if anyting should eber happen to dem, 'specially to der ones I made fer de little miss. Why, dey've got har jus' like my bery own." And she lifted one hand to point to her gay turban with pride, then clutched his arm again, "An' I made eb'ry st.i.tch ob der cloes."

"You needn't worry, Candace," said Ben, quietly, "for I'll look out that Jocko doesn't disturb those dolls."

"Sh.o.r.e?" cried Candace, surveying him with anxious eyes.

"Sure," said Ben, not taking off the gaze of his blue ones.

Candace's arms fell away to her sides. "Well, if yer promises me, Mas'r Ben, I know it's all right. Now you mus' hab some candy sticks," and she lifted off the cover of the big gla.s.s jar.

"I'll find your thimble first," said Ben, getting down on his knees to lift the gay flowered calico curtain that hung from the counter-edge.

This was easier said than done, for the big horn thimble, now that it had gotten away from Candace's black finger, decided to take a holiday.

So although Ben prowled and peered around amid the boxes and bundles beneath the counter, he couldn't lay his hand on the runaway. Seeing which, Polly decided to begin the trade by which she could be the possessor of another little pincushion to take the place of the one just spoiled by Jocko. So Candace handed down the box containing them, and together they searched through it for something that would fit the need.

"I'm going to make Jasper another one, you know," said Polly, "but I must buy him something to use right away."

"Well, I got some perfec' beauties," said Candace, lifting out a flaming yellow one with great delight. "See dar now, Miss Polly, did you eber know I had dat in my shop?"

"No," said Polly. Then she searched the corner of the box and pulled out another, but it was a faded green one, very dismal, and quite tired looking.

"Now dat was made out o' one ob my ole missus's bunnet strings," said Candace, raising it with a quick hand. "It's a bery special ribbin. Ain'

dat fine, dough?" She balanced it on her black hand, lost in admiration.

"I don't believe I want a green one," said Polly.

"Don' you?" said Candace. "Well, now let's see, honey," but she was very much disappointed, and set down the little green pincushion slowly by the side of her yellow treasure.

Polly glanced up at her over the box-edge. "Candace," she said, "I thought you had some _little_ cushions. You showed them to Phronsie once for her dolls, don't you remember?"

"Oh, dem?" said Candace, wrinkling up her black face. "Why, they were teeny little bits o' tings."

"Well, I've just thought I could sew two or three of them together,"

cried Polly, the color flying up into her cheeks, "and don't you see, they'd be just as cunning. Oh, do look and see if you have any pink ones."

So Candace, delighted to see that Polly could look so, waddled off to a farther corner, and presently came back with another box, which when opened showed three or four little cushions racing along at play inside.

"Dey ain' pink," said Candace; "I 'member I sold all o' dem."

"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, dreadfully disappointed, and seizing one end of the box. "Let me look," and suiting the action to the word. "Oh, yes, they are, as sure as anything, Candace; you have some pink ones."

"Sh.o.r.e, I hab," said Candace, quite as delighted.

"At least you have one, anyway," said Polly, her tone dropping some of her elation. "Oh, how I do wish--why, there's another--pick it out, Candace," she concluded in great excitement.

So the second little pink cushion was brought out and set on the counter alongside of the first.

"Well now, how I do wish there was just _one more_, Candace," said Polly, pushing up the damp rings of hair from her forehead, for it was pretty anxious work, "for I can get along with three so nicely. But you haven't another single one," she mourned.

"No, I hain'," said Candace, "an' dat am a fac'. But why couldn' you take a white one, honey? Dat would look real nice," she added, holding one up persuasively.

"Oh, I want a pink one," said Polly, not looking at the little white one. "I did want three pink ones fastened together, Candace, they would be so pretty."

"But if you hain' got 'em, why you hain'," said Candace, with decision; "so what's de nex' bes' ting to do?"

"Oh, I suppose to take the white one," said Polly, turning away from the box with a sigh. "But the pink one would be _so_ nice."

"An' you better not tink about de pink ones," said Candace, opening a drawer to get out some soft paper, "but be glad you could get a white one to mix in. S'posin' I hadn't had nothin' but green ones."

"Dear me!" exclaimed Polly. "Yes, I know, that would have been dreadful, wouldn't it, Candace?"

"Dat's so," said Candace, smoothing out a wad of paper, "as long as you don' like de green ones. But I tink dat one I made out o' ole missus's bunnet strings is a perfec' beauty. Ole missus al'ays had de bery bes'

o' ribbin."

"Oh, I want some pink ribbon to tie the little cushions together with,"

said Polly, at the mention of ribbon. "And I must have some narrow white, too, Candace, please."

"Well, I'm glad I found that thimble," said Ben, lifting a very red face to the counter-edge, and presently getting up to his feet. "Here, Candace, now don't let that run away from you again, that's my advice."