Five Little Peppers and How They Grew Part 6

"Well, I tell you," said Phronsie, confidentially, setting down a cup that she had polished with great care, "I'm going to do 'em all to-morrow, for you, Polly--I can truly; let me now, Polly, do."

"Nonsense!" said Polly, giving a great splash with her mop in the tub, ashamed of her inward repinings. "Phronsie, you're no bigger than a mouse!"

"Yes, I am," retorted Phronsie, very indignantly. Her face began to get very red, and she straightened up so suddenly to show Polly just how very big she was that her little head came up against the edge of the tub--over it went! a pile of saucers followed.

"There now," cried Polly, "see what you've done!"

"Ow!" whimpered Phronsie, breaking into a subdued roar; "oh, Polly! it's all running down my back."

"Is it?" said Polly, bursting out into a laugh; "never mind, Phronsie, I'll dry you."

"Dear me, Polly!" said Mrs. Pepper, who had looked up in time to see the tub racing along by itself towards the "Provision Room" door, a stream of dish-water following in its wake, "she will be wet clear through; do get off her things, quick."

"Yes'm," cried Polly, picking up the tub, and giving two or three quick sops to the floor. "Here you are, p.u.s.s.y," grasping Phronsie, crying as she was, and carrying her into the bedroom.

"Oh, dear," wailed the child, still holding the wet dish towel; "I won't ever do it again, if you'll only let me do 'em all to-morrow."

"When you're big and strong," said Polly, giving her a hug, "you shall do 'em every day."

"May I really?" said little Phronsie, blinking through the tears, and looking radiant.

"Yes, truly--every day."

"Then I'll grow right away, I will," said Phronsie, bursting out merrily; and she sat down and pulled off the well-worn shoes, into which a big pool of dish-water had run, while Polly went for dry stockings.

"So you shall," said Polly, coming back, a big piece of gingerbread in her hand; "and this'll make you grow, Phronsie."

"O-o-h!" and Phronsie's little white teeth shut down quickly on the comforting morsel. Gingerbread didn't come often enough into the Pepper household to be lightly esteemed.

"Now," said Mrs. Pepper, when order was restored, the floor washed up brightly, and every cup and platter in place, hobn.o.bbing away to themselves on the shelves of the old corner cupboard, and Polly had come as usual with needle and thread to help mother--Polly was getting so that she could do the plain parts on the coats and jackets, which filled her with pride at the very thought--"now," said Mrs. Pepper, "you needn't help me this morning, Polly: I'm getting on pretty smart; but you may just run down to the parson's, and see how he is."

"Is he sick?" asked Polly, in awe.

To have the parson sick, was something quite different from an ordinary person's illness.

"He's taken with a chill," said Mrs. Pepper, biting off a thread, "so Miss Huldy Folsom told me last night, and I'm afraid he's going to have a fever."

"Oh, dear," said Polly, in dire distress; "whatever'd we do, mammy!"

"Don't know, I'm sure," replied Mrs. Pepper, setting her st.i.tches firmly; "the Lord'll provide. So you run along, child, and see how he is."

"Can't Phronsie go?" asked Polly, pausing half-way to the bedroom door.

"Well, yes, I suppose she might," said Mrs. Pepper, a.s.sentingly.

"No, she can't either," said Polly, coming back with her sun-bonnet in her hand, and shutting the door carefully after her, "cause she's fast asleep on the floor."

"Is she?" said Mrs. Pepper; "well, she's been running so this morning, she's tired out, I s'pose."

"And her face is dreadfully red," continued Polly, tying on her bonnet; "now, what'll I say, mammy?"

"Well, I should think 'twould be," said Mrs. Pepper, replying to the first half of Polly's speech; "she cried so. Well, you just tell Mrs.

Henderson your ma wants to know how Mr. Henderson is this morning, and if 'twas a chill he had yesterday, and how he slept last night, and--"

"Oh, ma," said Polly, "I can't ever remember all that."

"Oh, yes, you can," said Mrs. Pepper, encouragingly; "just put your mind on it, Polly; 'tisn't anything to what I used to have to remember--when I was a little girl, no bigger than you are."

Polly sighed, and feeling sure that something must be the matter with her mind, gave her whole attention to the errand; till at last after a multiplicity of messages and charges not to forget any one of them, Mrs.

Pepper let her depart.

Up to the old-fashioned green door, with its bra.s.s knocker, Polly went, running over in her mind just which of the messages she ought to give first. She couldn't for her life think whether "if 'twas a chill he had yesterday?" ought to come before "how he slept?" She knocked timidly, hoping Mrs. Henderson would help her out of her difficulty by telling her without the asking. All other front doors in Badgertown were ornaments, only opened on grand occasions, like a wedding or a funeral.

But the minister's was accessible alike to all. So Polly let fall the knocker, and awaited the answer.

A scuffling noise sounded along the pa.s.sage; and then Polly's soul sank down in dire dismay. It was the minister's sister, and not gentle little Mrs. Henderson. She never could get on with Miss Jerusha in the least.

She made her feel as she told her mother once--"as if I don't know what my name is." And now here she was; and all those messages.

Miss Jerusha unbolted the door, slid back the great bar, opened the upper half, and stood there. She was a big woman, with sharp black eyes, and spectacles--over which she looked--which to Polly was much worse, for that gave her four eyes.

"Well, and what do you want?" she asked.

"I came to see--I mean my ma sent me," stammered poor Polly.

"And who is your ma?" demanded Miss Jerusha, as much like a policeman as anything; "and where do you live?"

"I live in Primrose Lane," replied Polly, wishing very much that she was back there.

"I don't want to know where you live, before I know who you are," said Miss Jerusha; "you should answer the question I asked first; always remember that."

"My ma's Mrs. Pepper," said Polly.

"Mrs. who?" repeated Miss Jerusha.

By this time Polly was so worn that she came very near turning and fleeing, but she thought of her mother's disappointment in her, and the loss of the news, and stood quite still.

"What is it, Jerusha?" a gentle voice here broke upon Polly's ear.

"I don't know," responded Miss Jerusha, tartly, still holding the door much as if Polly were a robber; "it's a little girl, and I can't make out what she wants."

"Why, it's Polly Pepper!" exclaimed Mrs. Henderson, pleasantly. "Come in, child." She opened the other half of the big door, and led the way through the wide hall into a big, old-fashioned room, with painted floor, and high, old side-board, and some stiff-backed rocking-chairs.

Miss Jerusha stalked in also and seated herself by the window, and began to knit. Polly had just opened her mouth to tell her errand, when the door also opened suddenly and Mr. Henderson walked in.

"Oh!" said Polly, and then she stopped, and the color flushed up into her face.

"What is it, my dear?" and the minister took her hand kindly, and looked down into her flushed face.

"You are not going to have a fever, and be sick and die!" she cried.