The Adventures of Joel Pepper Part 12

"An' take care the things don't fall out," warned Mrs. Beebe.

Joel gave the bag another twist, and gripped it fast.

"An' I guess Pa's got the horse around all right," said Mrs.

Beebe, going out into the shop, "so I s'pose you all must go, though sorry I be to have you." She gave Polly a motherly little pat on the shoulder, and fairly cried over Phronsie. "Well, you've got to go, I s'pose," she said again, "'cause Pa's a-waitin'; yes, Pa," she called, "they're a-comin'." And presently the little Peppers, except Phronsie, all clambered over the wheel; then Polly and Joel lifted her up, and away they went, Mrs. Beebe watching them off till a turn of the narrow street hid them from view.

"That Ab'm," said Mr. Beebe, after they had gone quite a piece, and glancing back over his shoulder, "well, he ain't reelly no kin to us, thank the Lord, an' they're a-goin' next week. I can tell you one thing, Polly, he an' his Ma don't git inside our house agin."

VII

JOEL GOES A-FIs.h.i.+NG

Joel sat on the back doorstep and kicked his heels disconsolately. Davie was lying down on Mamsie's bed, fast asleep. He was tired out picking rocks all the forenoon, and Polly had shut the door and said he mustn't be waked up. So there he lay, his arm thrown up over his flushed cheeks; and the long hot summer afternoon ahead of Joel, and he must spend it alone.

"All the birds have lots of themselves to play with," grumbled Joel, idly slinging a stone at a pack of chattering young ones who could not contain their pride at being able to fly so finely, but kept screaming every minute, "Look at me. Chee-chee-chee.

See-me-chee-chee-chee!"

Now they c.o.c.ked their little heads and stared down with their black beady eyes at Joel; when they saw it was he, they chirped and twittered worse than ever. "See me. Chee-chee-chee!

Look-at-me-chee-chee-chee!"

"Stop it!" cried Joel, crossly, looking up at them; "Davie's abed, an' I haven't any one to play with, an' you have, lots an'

lots." Then a smile broke out and ran all over his chubby face, and he flung another stone he had picked off as far as he could into the gra.s.s.

The little birds, glad to see him smile, fluttered their wings and flew off, screaming proudly, "See-me-chee-chee-chee!"

"I'm going fis.h.i.+ng down to Cherry Brook," said Joel, left alone with not a bird in sight. Even the squirrels seemed to have business at a distance that afternoon; so he hopped off from his stone and ran to get his old tin pail and the remnant of an iron spoon that Polly had given the boys to dig worms with; and very soon he had a good quant.i.ty wriggling and squirming away, and he came shouting, flushed and happy, by the window where she sat sewing.

"I'm goin' fis.h.i.+n', Polly," he said, slinging his birch pole over his shoulder.

"All right," said Polly, nodding and smiling away at him. "Sh, Joel, don't make such a noise. You'll wake up Davie."

"Then he could go with me," declared Joel, on the edge of another whoop.

"No, indeed, Mister Joel," said Polly, with a decisive nod of her brown head, "you needn't think it. Davie's legs aren't so strong as yours, and he's all tired out."

"My legs are dreadful strong, Polly," said Joel, well pleased at Polly's words. And he set down his pail of angleworms, and the pole carefully beside it. "See, Polly," and he flopped over suddenly, turning two or three somersaults, to stand still on his head.

"Oh, Joel--Joel!" cried Polly, forgetting all about David, and dropping her work to her lap "don't. You mustn't do that. Stop it!"

"Pooh! that's nothing," said Joel, wiggling his legs far apart, and peering at her out of his sharp black eyes.

"Joel!" screamed Polly, "get up this minute, and don't you go upside down again! Mamsie wouldn't like it. Get up, I say!"

"Pooh! that's nothing," again declared Joel, slowly flopping over to lie still on the gra.s.s. Then he began to slap his legs up and down. "Ain't I dreadful strong, Polly? Ain't I?"

"And your face is dreadfully red," said Polly; "I shouldn't wonder if sometime you burst a blood vessel in you, if you do that perfectly awful thing."

"How could it burst?" cried Joel. "Tell me, Polly," bringing his legs down quite still to hear the answer. "Tell me, Polly."

"You'd know, I guess," answered Polly. "Don't, Joel, you make me feel as if I sh'd fly to even think of it, and here I ought to be sewing every single minute." Just then the bedroom door opened, and out walked David, dewy-eyed, and with very pink cheeks. "Did you call, Polly?" he asked; "I heard you say something."

"Now you've gone and waked Davie up," exclaimed Polly, in a tone of great vexation.

"Goody!" screamed Joel, "now you will let him go fis.h.i.+ng, won't you?" And he jumped to his feet and ran to the window to thrust his stubby head over the sill. "Dave, Dave, come out an' see the lot o' worms I've dug."

"No," said Polly, feeling dreadfully at the sight of David's face, as it fell at her words. "I'm sorry, Davie, but you were real tired, an' Mamsie wouldn't like you to go off any this afternoon."

"It's only to Cherry Brook," cried Joel, loudly.

"Now, Polly Pepper, I think you're real mean to keep him in, an'

we'd catch a whole lot o' fish, an' maybe have some for supper."

It was always Joel's ambition to catch a fish big enough to cook, but as the brook, a little tumbling stream over a few ragged rocks, on the edge of Deacon Brown's meadow lot, only held minnows, with an occasional turtle and frog, this had never as yet happened.

Phronsie laid down the bit of calico she was puckering up by drawing through it a needle to which a coa.r.s.e thread was tied, and looked gravely at Joel. "You must not say so of my Polly,"

she said gravely, shaking her head.

Joel's black hair ducked beneath the window. "I didn't mean--"

he mumbled. "Polly, I didn't, truly." Then he flung himself on the gra.s.s and burst into tears, kicking over the pail. The angleworms wriggled along till they got to the edge, then quietly took themselves off.

David drew a long sigh and folded his hands. "I'm not a bit tired, and I should like to go, Polly," he said.

"No, Davie dear," said Polly, kindly, "you'd be tired before you'd gone halfway. And Mamsie wouldn't like it. Do go back and lie down again on the bed."

"Oh, I can't," said little David, shrugging his shoulders, "it's all alone in there, Polly."

"Well, I can't leave my sewing, and you must have it dark, or else you won't go to sleep. Do try, Davie, that's a good boy."

But little Davie still shrugged his shoulders, and wouldn't even look at the bedroom door, but kept his back toward it.

"Dear me, Phronsie," cried Polly, in despair. "Now, if you'd go in and lie down by his side and hold his hand, maybe he'd go to sleep. He's half sick, and I don't want Mamsie to come home and find him so."

"I've got to sew, Polly," said Phronsie, with an important air, and holding up her mangy bit of calico, where all but one corner was in a pucker, "so I must stay right here and finish it. Truly, I must, Polly."

"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly, quickly, "then I don't know what is to be done. And Mamsie will come home, and then what will she say?" with another worried glance at David's flushed cheeks.

Phronsie drew a long breath and set another crooked st.i.tch.

"I'll go, Polly," at last she said, with a long sigh, putting the puckered calico bit, with the needle hanging, carefully on the floor by her side. Then she got slowly out of her little wooden chair.

"Now, that's a good girl," cried Polly, reaching out her arms to catch her, and nearly smothering her with kisses. "Whatever should I do without you, Phronsie, pet? I'm sure I don't know."

"You couldn't do without me, could you, Polly?" cried Phronsie, very much pleased as Polly let her go and flew back to her sewing again.

"No in-_deed_!" cried Polly, warmly. "There, take Davie's hand, and both of you go into the bedroom like good children, and shut the door and go to sleep. That's nice!" and she smiled approvingly at them as they disappeared.