Chapter 7

The two children, not having a word to say to this, stood very mournfully in front of her. The bedroom door was shut fast, and Ben was doing his best out in the kitchen to keep the other two children amused, in this unwonted state of affairs.

"I wish you'd punish me, Mammy," said Polly, in a broken little voice, "real hard."

"And me, too," cried Joel, sniffling.

"I've never punished you children since you were big enough to know better," said Mother Pepper, slowly, "and I don't believe I can begin now. And it seems to me it's the best way for you to punish yourselves. So I'll leave you to think over it," and she went out and closed the door on them.

How long they sat there, Polly didn't know, and as for Joel, he was in such a state of mind, he couldn't tell anything, only that Polly and he finally crept out in the gathering dusk of the long afternoon. No one but Mother Pepper ever knew the reason for the many unwelcome little tasks that Joey did after that, and, strange to relate, without a single grumble, while as Polly couldn't very well do more work than she did at present, and as there were no luxuries to give up in the way of eatables, the Peppers having butter and other nice things only when people were good enough to send them some, it is hard to think what she could do to punish herself. But that was Mother Pepper's and Joel's and her secret. And then Mamsie cuddled them and comforted them. Only Polly, when she went to bed that night, felt the tears drop quite fast on her pillow, and that was the last thing she remembered before she dropped to sleep.

Meantime, it was rather hard work rehearsing the little play. "We'd give that up, Mamsie," cried Polly, though Joel made a wry face as he agreed to it, "but the others want it so much."

"But that wouldn't be a very good way: to make other people suffer for your faults," Mrs. Pepper had replied. So the work over the little play went on, as if nothing sad had happened. But Polly carried a sorry little face about, until Phronsie would look at her wonderingly, or Davie would forget to smile; on such occasions Mrs. Pepper would look at her and raise her finger warningly, and Polly would exclaim, "Oh, I forgot," and then she would toss them a merry little bit of nonsense that made them happy at once. But down in her heart Polly had many sad thoughts. At last it was the great day. Nobody said "circus," but all the five little Peppers shouted it was the Play Day! And it really didn't rain, and the sky was as blue as could be, and Mamsie stayed home that day, and oh! Polly was quite sure she smelt something very nice, when she raced into the kitchen in the middle of the morning. Mother Pepper had sent them all out to rehearse the play in the orchard, and in the midst of it Polly cried out that she had forgotten the wings she was to put on as fairy godmother, when she appeared in time to rescue the little white cat, and to change her into a small girl again. She had made them, with the greatest trouble, out of thin paper and some old wire, and for fear they would get broken in the woodshed, Mamsie had said she might put them in the lower drawer of the big bureau in the bedroom, where Phronsie's red-topped shoes were always kept wrapped up. So now Polly dashed suddenly into the kitchen to run after them.

"Oh, Mamsie!" she exclaimed suddenly, wrinkling up her nose at the unwonted smell of something baking.

Mother Pepper was stooping over the oven door, which was open. She closed it quickly, and stood straight. "Polly," she said, and there was a little laugh in her eyes, although her firm lips were closed, "you are not to say anything what you think to the other children."

"No, Mamsie, I won't," promised Polly, with a wild thought at her heart, "Could Mamsie possibly be making a cake?" as she rushed into the bedroom, got the wings, and raced out again. And all through the rehearsing she kept thinking how good it smelt when that little whiff from the oven flew out.

And Mother Pepper smiled away to herself, and the voices from the orchard, with its one scraggy apple tree, came pealing in through the open window, as the rehearsal for the grand play was in progress. And then the whole bunch of little Peppers hurried off to get some wild flowers, "for it won't be much," Polly had said, "without some posies to put on the table" (the big stone Ben had tugged home from Deacon Brown's meadow).

"I'm glad Polly'll have her posies," said Mrs. Pepper, hearing that, and seeing them go on the flower-hunt, as she paused a moment at the window. "Now they'll be good to trim the ca--"

And it almost popped out, and she didn't mean to whisper the secret, even to herself!

When the children came back from roaming the fields and woods, with the blossoms and green vines gathered in their aprons and arms, and they were all nicely set in the cracked teacup with the handle gone that Mamsie had given them some time before, and some other dishes that Mrs. Pepper had handed out with strict charges to be careful of 'em, they all stood off in a row from the stone table, in delighted admiration.

"Isn't it perfectly beautiful!" exclaimed Polly, in a rapture, and clasping her hands.

"Perfectly beautiful!" breathed little David.

"Be-_yew_-ful!" echoed Phronsie, hopping up and down with very pink cheeks, and her hair flying.

"It looks very well, Polly," said Ben, in a practical way.

"I wish we had somethin' to eat," began Joel.

"Oh, Joey!" cried Polly, reproachfully. But her heart jumped at the recollection of the lovely smell that came from the oven, and Mamsie's face. "Now, children," she said, "we've got everything all done," with a quick glance around, "and Phronsie must have her nap, so's to be a nice little wide-awake white cat. Oh, Ben, leave the fur rug and the other things out under the table," as Ben began piling them up to carry back to the woodshed.

"Mamsie said, Always put everything back when we'd got through playing," said Ben.

"Well, she'll let us put them there, we're going to use them so soon, I know," said Polly, "if you tuck 'em in neatly. Won't you, Mamsie?" she cried, running to the window to thrust her brown head in.

"Yes," said Mrs. Pepper.

"And may we all come in now?" asked Polly.

"Yes," said Mother Pepper again.

"Don't forget your wings, Polly," cried Joel, picking them up where Polly had carefully laid them against the tree, and rushing to her, waving them aloft.

"Take care, Joel" warned Ben, but too late. One wing flopped over, and caught in a knobby old branch of the apple tree, and in a minute there was a big hole right in the middle!

"Oh, you--" began Polly, passionately, when she turned and saw what was done. In a minute she dashed over to Joel and threw her arms around him. "You couldn't help it," she finished, "and I can paste a piece of paper over it, and it will be most as good as new," while the children stood aghast at the mischief, and Ben exclaimed, "How could you, Joe! Why didn't you let it alone?"

"I didn't mean to. And now it won't fly--fly," screamed Joel, in a gust.

"Oh, yes, it will," declared Polly, merrily; "you'll see. And when I get it on, Joey Pepper, look out and look if you don't see me sailing up to the sky."

Joel came out of his sobs and looked up to the blue sky, and smiled through his tears, and when David and Phronsie saw Polly so merry, they smiled too, and Ben caught Polly's eye and didn't say any more. So they all marched into the house, and Phronsie was tucked up on Mamsie's bed, for her nap, and Polly sat down to mend her broken wing.

Mrs. Pepper, going on with her work, sent her a smile and loving look, that said just as plainly as words could speak it, "You're trying hard, Polly, my girl, and Mother knows it." So Polly began to hum at her task, and presently the kitchen became the very cheeriest place possible. What they would have done if any of them had happened to spy out what was on the upper shelf of the cupboard, covered carefully with a clean old towel, cannot possibly be told.

At last it came to be three o'clock, the hour of the grand play. Mrs. Pepper, as audience, was seated in her big rocking chair that Ben had brought out from the kitchen and placed in the best spot on the grass to see it all, and Polly and Ben and Joel and David and Phronsie were in the depths of excitement, and flitting here and there, Polly, as chief director, having a perfectly awful time to get them into their parts, particularly as Phronsie would keep rushing up, the old white fur rug nearly tripping her up every step, to lay her soft face against Mother Pepper's, and cry out, "I'm to be a white cat, Mamsie. I truly am!" And Joel would insist on roaring like a bear, and prancing and waving his arms, around which Polly had tied a lot of black hair that Mamsie had let her take out of her cushion.

"Joel, you spoil everything!" cried Ben at him. "See here, now all your hair is tumbling off from your arms."

"They ain't arms. They're paws," said Joel, stopping suddenly to look with dismay at the damage he was making. "Polly didn't tie it on good," he said, trying to stuff back the loose hair.

"Yes, she did, too, real good," retorted Ben, "only you are flourishing round so, nothing would keep on you. Keep still, can't you!"

"And I'll tie it on again," said Polly, "if you'll wait till I fix Davie--just a minute--there, Davie, you're all right. Now, says I, Mr. Bear," and she flew over to Joel again.

Once more Mother Pepper sent her a swift approving smile, and Polly's heart was so warm that a little sunbeam seemed suddenly to have hopped right down there. And the little play went on from first to last perfectly splendidly, and Mrs. Pepper, feeling very strange indeed to be sitting there in the middle of the afternoon with nothing in her hands to work over, clapped them together and applauded enough for a big audience. And there never was such a good time in all this world--no, not even under the big white circus tent over in Hillsbury!

"I'm glad you like it!" cried Polly, tumbling over in a heap on the grass when it was all over, and the audience got out of the big rocking chair.

"It was very nice indeed, Polly," said Mother Pepper, with shining eyes.

"Indeed it was!" declared Ben with enthusiasm, which meant a great deal from him.

"And now, children," said Mrs. Pepper, "you rest on the grass and talk it over, and I will call you into the house by and by."

"I don't ever want to go in," declared Joel, positively, and rolling over on the grass to wave his legs in the air, while little Davie lay quite still. "It was good to be in the play, Polly," he said, "but it's nice to rest here."

"I was a white cat, Polly," said Phronsie, sitting down on the grass as close to Polly as she could get, and tucking up her feet under her.

"So you were, Pet," cried Polly, "the loveliest, sweetest white cat in all the world, Phronsie dear," giving her a little hug. "O dear me, I'm glad it's done, and that it was nice."

"It was the nicest thing you've ever done, Polly," declared Ben, with emphasis.

"Chil-_dren_!" Mamsie's voice, and it had a new sound.

But Joel gave his sturdy legs another wave. "I wish we could stay out here longer," he said. So it happened that he was last in the procession filing into the little brown house, instead of first, as was usually the case.

"_Oh, Mamsie_!" cried Polly, and, "_Oh, Mamsie_!" exclaimed every one of the others, while Joel pushed in between them as fast as he could, anxious to see what it all was.

There was the table drawn out in the middle of the kitchen and spread with a clean white cloth. And on it stood a cake, yes, a big one, and there was--yes, there actually was white on top! When Polly saw that, she sat right down in the first chair. As for Ben, he was just as much astonished, and couldn't stop the children from reaching out to pick at the cake.

"I took some of your flowers, Polly, to trim it with," said Mother Pepper, pointing to the wreath running around the big cake. "Now, children, all of you sit down, and Polly shall cut it, for she made the play." She handed Polly the big knife, sharpened up till it shone as bright as could be.

"Let me--let me!" screamed Joel, with no eyes now for anything but the sharp knife "I've never cut a cake. Mammy, let me!"

"Neither has Polly," said Mrs. Pepper, quietly. "No, Joe, Polly made the play, else you couldn't any of you have had this nice time."

"And she's worked herself most to death to get us through it," said Ben.

Polly had seized the big knife, and taken one step toward the wonderful cake. Now she stopped, and looked over at Joel. "You may," she said, smiling brightly.

"Oh, goody!" cried Joel, plunging forward. Then he stopped suddenly, on meeting his mother's eye. "I'd rather not," he said.

"Go on, Polly, Joel's right," said Mrs. Pepper, in satisfaction. So the slices were cut very slowly, Polly breathing hard with anxiety. But the white frosting didn't fall off a bit, and each piece was soon laid on a plate by Mother Pepper, and passed, first to Ben and then to the others, and to Phronsie last of all, of course, because she was the youngest.

When it was all over, this delightful surprise of Mamsie's, and Polly and Mrs. Pepper were clearing up, Joel nudged David. "Come on, Dave," he whispered, and the two boys ran out to the orchard again.

"I'm goin' to be bear again," cried Joel. "O dear me! Ben's taken in all the black hair," he cried, in great disappointment.

"He had to put it back in Mamsie's cushion again," said David. "You know he promised."

"He might have left it a little bit of a while," grumbled Joel.

"He said he'd do it right away," persisted David, "so he had to, Joel."

"Well, anyway, I'll be bear again without the black hair, then," declared Joel. "Now, look out, Dave, 'cause I'm goin' to climb up th' apple tree."

"Bears don't climb up trees," observed little David, critically, watching Joel's progress, quite content to sit down on the grass meanwhile.

"Well, I'm goin' to, when I'm a bear," cried Joel, now well up in the midst of the gnarled branches. "I'm goin' to climb trees, and do everything I want to, so there, Dave Pepper!"

Little David said nothing, and turned his gaze downward, and a big green worm, that had somehow lost his way in the tall grass, meandered past him, trying to get home. So he put forth a gentle finger, bending down the biggest spears accommodatingly, and was so absorbed in the matter that he forgot Joel, until he heard a voice, "Hi, there; look, Dave, look!"

"O dear me, Joe!" exclaimed David, letting the green spears swing back abruptly, and viewing Joel in alarm, "you'll fall. Do come down."

"Pooh! I can bend way out. See, Dave! See!" cried Joel, twisting his legs around the branch on which he sat, almost at the very tip of the apple tree, and he swung both arms exultingly. There was a crack, a swish, and something came tumbling through the air, and before David could utter a sound, there lay Joel on the grass at his feet.

XI

DR. FISHER'S VISIT

Ben picked him up, as Mother Pepper and the others hurried out, on hearing David scream. Joel lay so still and white in Ben's arms that Polly turned quite faint. But when she saw Mamsie's face, she bent over to Phronsie. "Come here, Pet," she tried to say, as she drew her off that she might not see.

"What is it, Polly?" asked Phronsie, wonderingly. "What is Ben carrying Joey for?"

"Now I must wash off the cake-crumbs, they're all over your face, Phronsie," said Polly, desperately.

"Carry him into the bedroom," Mother Pepper was saying.

"Come, child," Polly pulled Phronsie hastily toward the woodshed, "you must really let me wash your face."

"Why do you want to wash it in the woodshed, Polly?" asked Phronsie, obstinately, holding back. "I want to wash it in Mamsie's nice bowl."

"Oh, Phronsie, please come," begged Polly, still holding her arm. "See, if you don't, I shall cry." Which was the truth as the tears were beginning to come in Polly's brown eyes. Seeing this, Phronsie yielded, and pattered along by Polly's side obediently, and allowed her little face to be scrubbed and wiped quite dry, Polly's heart all the while going like a triphammer, and her ears pricked up for any word that might tell her of Joel. At last she could bear it no longer.

"Phronsie," she said, when the round cheeks and hands were as clean as clean could be, "now look at me, dear."

Phronsie lifted her blue eyes and fixed them in wide-eyed astonishment on Polly's face.

"What makes you do so, Polly?" she asked wonderingly.

"Never mind," said Polly, with an awful feeling at her heart, it was so still out in the kitchen and bedroom. "Now, you must do just as I tell you, and not ask me any questions. Polly wants you to do it, to go and sit down on that bench," pointing to a little low one in the corner, "and not stir till I call you."

Phronsie looked over at the little bench.

"I'll go, Polly," she said with a sigh, "if you want me to."

Polly dropped a hasty kiss on the yellow hair, then fled on unsteady feet through the kitchen and into the bedroom. Mother Pepper was bending over Joel. Ben was holding the bowl of water, and Davie was crying and wringing his hands at the foot of the bed, with his eyes on Joel's face.

"You better go for Dr. Fisher, Ben," Mrs. Pepper said hoarsely, putting the wet cloth into the bowl.

Polly crept up to her side. "Hasn't Grandma Bascom anything?" she asked. "Shall I go and see?"

"No," said Mrs. Pepper. "And the doctor must see if he's broken any limbs, or is hurt inside." Ben was already out and running down the road at top speed.

It seemed an hour. It was really but ten minutes, when a step bounded out in the kitchen. Mrs. Pepper looked at Polly, who stole silently out, and with a gasp almost tumbled into the arms of a little man with very big spectacles. "Oh, Dr. Fisher!" she cried, "I'm _so_ glad!"

"And I'm glad, too," said little Dr. Fisher, beaming at her. "Why, what's the matter, Polly, my girl?" as Polly seemed to be almost tumbling over. "You see, I've come to take Phronsie to ride. I haven't been able to a good while back," he mourned, "but perhaps you'd better go," setting his spectacles to take a keen look at her.

"Oh, Dr. Fisher! Ben's gone for you," gasped Polly, seizing his hand, to draw him to the bedroom door.

"Gone for me!" repeated Dr. Fisher, taking the words out of her mouth. "Who's sick?" and his face paled abruptly.

"Joel," gasped Polly; "he fell from the apple tree. Oh, do come, dear Dr. Fisher."

The little doctor was by this time in the bedroom. "Don't worry, ma'am," he said to Mrs. Pepper, then he hurried to the side of the bed and bent over Joel.

"I ain't sick," exclaimed Joel, opening his eyes to look up into the big spectacles. "I wish people'd let me alone," and he gave an irritable flounce. "Oh--it's Dr. Fisher," he finished joyfully.

"So it is," assented the little doctor, bobbing his head amiably, so that the big spectacles slipped down to the end of his nose. Then he looked to the others to keep still.

"You'll take me to ride with you in the gig, won't you, Dr. Fisher?" begged Joel. His face was still white, but his eyes were as bright as ever.

"Maybe," said the little doctor. "Well, now let's see. You've been playing up in the apple tree, haven't you?" Meanwhile, his long thin fingers were going rapidly all over Joel's bones and muscles.

"Yes," said Joel, nodding. "And I was a bear, Dr. Fisher."

"I used to play bear when I was no bigger than you are, Joel," said Dr. Fisher, whose fingers seemed to be everywhere at once.

"I don't b'lieve you were as big a bear as I was," said Joel, sturdily. "No, sir-_ree_! And I went clear out to the tip of th' apple tree. Now could you do that, Dr. Fisher?" he asked triumphantly.

"I wouldn't try it again, if I were you," said the little doctor, ignoring the question, while his fingers went rapidly on their work.

"And may I go to ride in your gig?" begged Joel, twisting away to the other side of the bed, "and what are you feeling my legs all over for?"

Little Dr. Fisher stood up quite straight and looked across at Mrs. Pepper. "He's sound as a nut," he said.

"Praise the Lord!" exclaimed Mother Pepper. Polly ran up to her and threw her arms around her. "Mamsie, just think, Joel's all well!" she cried convulsively.

Little Davie threw himself flat on the floor and cried as hard as he could. Polly ran over to him, "Why, Davie," she cried, getting down on the floor by his side, "don't you understand? Joel's all well. Dr. Fisher says so."

"I know it," sobbed Davie, "but I can't stop. I'm so happy, Polly."

"Well, you must stop," commanded Polly, firmly, "'cause you'll make Joel feel badly if he hears you, Davie."

So Davie hushed his tears. Since Joel might hear him, there must be no crying. But he sat on the floor, and wouldn't get up.

And then the door opened suddenly, and Ben hurried in with a white, disappointed face. "He isn't home, and they don't know when--Why!" for there sat little Dr. Fisher laughing and peering at him over his big spectacles.

"Yes, Joel may go to ride," said Dr. Fisher, when Ben had gotten over his surprise a bit; "that is, if Polly will give up her seat,--for I'd invited her," and he looked over at her.

"Yes, I will, indeed," said Polly, with a happy little laugh. "Oh, Joe, you'll have such a good time!" kissing his cheek, into which the color was slowly coming back.

"I know it," said Joel, wheeling over to give a roll out of bed.

"Take it easy," said Dr. Fisher, "there's plenty of time. Feel all right, my boy?"

"No, I don't," said Joel, standing on the floor. Mrs. Pepper's cheek paled, and an anxious look came into her black eyes at once.

"Whereabouts do you feel badly?" asked the doctor, in surprise.

"Here," said Joel, laying his hand on his jacket-front. "I'm so hungry."

"Do give him something to eat, Mrs. Pepper," said Dr. Fisher, laughing heartily, "then we'll be off. And Polly, you and I will have a ride next time," he said, darting off before Mrs. Pepper had a chance to pay him, or even to thank him.

"But that I never could do enough," she said, wiping her eyes on her apron, "but the Lord will, I know."

Joel was already in the gig, peeping out at them, and teasing Dr. Fisher to hurry. They had driven off, and been gone some time, when suddenly Polly started in dismay as she was setting the table for supper.

"You most dropped that dish, Polly," said little Davie, looking at her in amazement.

"I forgot--Phronsie--O dear!" gasped Polly, setting the dish in her hand suddenly on the table, and plunging out of the room.

There sat Phronsie in the woodshed on the little bench, her rusty little shoes placed patiently before her, and her hands folded in her lap. "I'm so tired, Polly," she said plaintively.

"So you must be!" cried Polly, in a spasm of remorse, and lifting her up. "Well, now we'll have such a nice time, Phronsie, you can't think," covering her with kisses.

"You never came, Polly," said Phronsie, mournfully shaking her yellow head, "never at all."

"Don't, Phronsie," cried Polly, almost smothering her as she hugged her tightly.

"Oh, Polly, you hurt me!" cried Phronsie.

"Did I, Pet? well, I won't do so any more. Now, says I, one, two--three, here we go into the kitchen!" and Polly set her down on the floor.

"It is nice to walk with my feet," said Phronsie, giving a long stretch to her fat little legs. "Little things kept sticking into 'em, Polly, most all the time."

"The prickles, from sitting still," said Polly. "Oh, Phronsie dear, I never shall forgive myself for forgetting you," as Phronsie pattered across the kitchen, to clamber into Mother Pepper's lap.