Five Little Peppers and How They Grew - Margaret Sidney (chromebook ebook reader .txt) 📗

Just then came Jasper's voice at the door. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, do, Jappy,” cried Polly, rushing along with Phronsie in her arms to open the door. “We're so glad you've got home!”

“So am I,” said Jasper, coming in, his face flushed and his eyes sparkling; “I thought father never would be through downtown, Polly!”

“We're going to learn to draw,” said Percy, over by the table, who wouldn't on any account leave his seat by Ben, though he was awfully tired of sitting still so long, for fear somebody else would hop into it. “Ben's going to teach us.”

“Yes, he is,” put in Van, bounding up to Jasper and pulling at all the buttons on his jacket he could reach, to command attention.

“And us,” said Joel, coming up too. “You forgot us, Van.”

“The whole of us—every single one in this room,” said Van decidedly, “all except Mrs. Pepper.”

“Hulloa!” said Jasper, “that is a class! Well, Professor Ben, you've got to teach me then, for I'm coming too.”

“You?” said Ben, turning around his chair, and looking at him; “I can't teach you anything, Jappy. You know everything already.”

“Let him come, anyway,” said Polly, hopping up and down.

“Oh, I'm coming, Professor,” laughed Jasper. “Never you fear, Polly; I'll be on hand when the rest of the class comes in!”

“And Van,” said Mrs. Pepper, pausing a minute in her work, and smiling over at him in a lull in the chatter—“I think flowers are most beautiful!” and she pointed to a little framed picture on the mantel, of the bunch of buttercups and one huge rose that Van had with infinite patience drawn, and then colored to suit his fancy.

“Do you?” cried Van, perfectly delighted; and leaving the group he rushed up to her side. “Do you really think they're nice, Mrs. Pepper?”

“Of course I do,” said Mrs. Pepper briskly, and beaming on him; “I think everything of them, and I shall keep them as long as I live, Van!”

“Well, then,” said Van, very much pleased, “I shall paint you ever so many more—just as many as you want!”

“Do!” said Mrs. Pepper, taking up her work again. “And I'll hang them every one up.”

“Yes, I will,” said Van; “and I'll go right to work on one to-morrow. What you mending our jackets for?” he asked abruptly as a familiar hole caught his attention.

“Because they're torn,” said Mrs. Pepper cheerfully, “an' they won't mend themselves.”

“Why don't you let Jane?” he persisted. “She always does them.”

“Jane's got enough to do,” replied Mrs. Pepper, smiling away as hard as she could, “and I haven't, so I'm going to look around and pick up something to keep my hands out of mischief as much as I can, while I'm here.”

“Do you ever get into mischief?” asked little Dick, coming up and looking into Mrs. Pepper's face wonderingly. “Why, you're a big woman!”

“Dear me, yes!” said Mrs. Pepper. “The bigger you are, the more mischief you can get into. You'll find that out, Dickey.”

“And then do you have to stand in a corner?” asked Dick, determined to find out just what were the consequences, and reverting to his most dreaded punishment.

“No,” said Mrs. Pepper laughing. “Corners are for little folks; but when people who know better, do wrong, there aren't any corners they can creep into, or they'd get into them pretty quick!”

“I wish,” said little Dick, “you'd let me get into your lap. That would be a nice corner!”

“Do, mamsie,” said Polly, coming up, “that's just the way I used to feel; and I'll finish the mending.”

So Mrs. Pepper put down her work, and moved the big basket for little Dick to clamber up, when he laid his head contentedly back in her motherly arms with a sigh of happiness. Phronsie regarded him with a very grave expression. At last she drew near: “I'm tired; do, mamsie, take me!”

“So mamsie will,” said Mrs. Pepper, opening her arms, when Phronsie immediately crawled up into their protecting shelter, with a happy little crow.

“Oh, now, tell us a story, Mrs. Pepper,” cried Van; “please, please do!”

“No, no;” exclaimed Percy, scuttling out of his chair, and coming up, “let's talk of the little brown house. Do tell us what you used to do there—that's best.”

“So 'tis!” cried Van; “ALL the nice times you used to have in it! Wait just a minute, do.” And he ran back for a cricket which he placed at Mrs. Pepper's feet; and then sitting down on it, he leaned on her comfortable lap, in order to hear better.

“Wait for me too, till I get a chair,” called Percy, starting. “Don't begin till I get there.”

“Here, let me, Percy,” said Ben; and he drew forward a big easy-chair that the boy was tugging at with all his might.

“Now I'm ready, too,” said Polly, setting small finishing stitches quickly with a merry little flourish, and drawing her chair nearer her mother's as she spoke.

“Now begin, please,” said Van, “all the nice times you know.”

“She couldn't tell all the nice times if she had ten years to tell them in, could she, Polly?” said Jasper.

“Well, in the first place then,” said Mrs. Pepper, clearing her throat, “the little brown house had got to be, you know, so we made up our minds to make it just the nicest brown house that ever was!”

“And it was!” declared Jasper, with an emphatic ring to his voice. “The very nicest place in the whole world!”

“Oh dear,” broke in Van enviously; “Jappy's always said so. I wish we'd been there, too!”

“We didn't want anybody but Jappy,” said Joel not very politely.

“Oh Joey, for shame!” cried Polly.

“Jappy used to bake,” cried little Davie; “an' we all made pies; an' then we sat round an' ate 'em, an' then told stories.”

“Oh what fun!” cried Percy. “Do tell us!”

So the five little Peppers and Jasper flew off into reminiscences and accounts of the funny doings, and Mrs. Pepper joined in heartily till the room got very merry with the glee and enthusiasm called forth; so much so, that nobody heard Mrs. Whitney knock gently at the door, and nobody answering, she was obliged to come in by herself.

“Well, well,” she cried, merrily, looking at the swarm of little ones around Mrs. Pepper and the big chair. “You are having a nice time! May I come and listen?”

“Oh, if you will, sister,” cried Jasper, springing off from his arm of the chair, while Ben flew from the other side, to hurry and get her a chair.

Percy and Van rushed too, knocking over so many things that they didn't help much; and little Dick poked his head out from Mrs. Pepper's arms when he saw his mamma sitting down to stay and began to scramble down to get into her lap.

“There now,” said Mrs. Whitney, smiling over at Mrs. Pepper, who was smiling at her. “You have your baby, and I have mine! Now children, what's it all about? What has Mrs. Pepper been telling you?”

“Oh, the little brown house,” cried Dicky, his cheeks all a-flame. “The dearest little house mamma! I wish I could live in one!

“Twouldn't be the same without the Peppers in it,” said Jasper. “Not a bit of it!”

“And they had such perfectly elegant times,” cried Percy, enviously, drawing up to her side. “Oh, you can't think, mamma!”

“Well now,” said his mamma, “do go on, and let me hear some of the nice times.”

So away they launched again, and Mrs. Whitney was soon enjoying it as hugely as the children, when a heavy step sounded in the middle of the room, and a voice spoke in such a tone that everybody skipped.

“Well, I should like to know what all this means! I've been all over the house, and not a trace of anybody could I find.”

“Oh father!” cried Mrs. Whitney. “Van, dear, get up and get grandpapa a chair.”

“No, no!” said the old gentleman, waving him off impatiently. “I'm not going to stay; I must go and lie down. My head is in a bad condition to-day; very bad indeed,” he added.

“Oh!” said Phronsie, popping up her head and looking at him. “I must get right down.”

“What's the matter, Phronsie?” asked Mrs. Pepper, trying to hold her back.

“Oh, but I must,” said Phronsie, energetically wriggling. “My poor sick man wants me, he does.” And flying out of her mother's arms, she ran up to Mr. King, and standing on tiptoe, said softly, “I'll rub your head, grandpa dear, poor sick man; yes I will.”

“And you're the best child,” cried the old gentleman, catching her up and marching over to the other side of the room where there was a lounging chair. “There now, you and I, Phronsie, will stay by ourselves. Then my head will feel better.”

And he sat down and drew her into his arms.

“Does it ache very bad?” said Phronsie, in a soft little voice. Then reaching up she began to pat and smooth it gently with one little hand, “Very bad, dear grandpa?”

“It won't,” said the old gentleman, “if you only keep on taking care of it, little Phronsie.”

“Then,” said the child, perfectly delighted, “I'm going to take all care of you, grandpa, always!”

“So you shall, so you shall!” cried Mr. King, no less delighted than she was. “Mrs. Pepper!”

“Sir?” said Mrs. Pepper, trying to answer, which she couldn't do very well surrounded as she was by the crowd of little chatterers. “Yes, Sir; excuse me what is it, sir?”

“We've got to come to an understanding about this thing,” said the old gentleman, “and I can't talk much to-day, because my headache won't allow it.”

Here the worried look came into Phronsie's face again, and she began to try to smooth his head with both little hands.

“And so I must say it all in as few words as possible,” he continued.

“What is it, sir?” again asked Mrs. Pepper, wonderingly.

“Well, the fact is, I've got to have somebody who will keep this house. Now Marian, not a word!” as he saw symptoms of Mrs. Whitney's joining in the conversation. “You've been good; just as good as can be under the circumstances; but Mason will be home in the fall, and then I suppose you'll have to go with him. Now I,” said the old gentleman, forgetting all about his head, and straightening himself up suddenly in the chair, “am going to get things into shape, so that the house will be kept for all of us; so that we can come or go. And how can I do it better than to have the Peppers—you, Mrs. Pepper, and all your children—come here and live, and—”

“Oh, father!” cried Jasper, rushing up to him; and flinging his arms around his neck, he gave him such a hug as he hadn't received for many a day.

“Goodness, Jasper!” cried his father, feeling of his throat. “How can you express your feelings so violently! And, besides, you interrupt.”

“Beg pardon, sir,” said Jasper, swallowing his excitement, and trying to control his eagerness.

“Do you say yes, Mrs. Pepper?” queried the old gentleman impatiently. “I must get this thing fixed up to-day. I'm really too ill to be worried ma'am.”

“Why sir,” stammered Mrs. Pepper, “I don't know what to say. I couldn't think of imposing all my children on you, and—”

“Imposing! Who's talking of imposing!” said Mr. King in a loud key. “I want my house kept; will you live here and keep it? That is the question.”

“But sir,” began Mrs. Pepper again, “you don't think—”

“I do think; I tell you, ma'am, I do think,” snapped the old gentleman. “It's just because I have thought that I've made up my mind. Will you do it Mrs. Pepper?”

“What are you goin' to do, mamsie?” asked Joel quickly.

“I don't know as I'm going to do anything yet,” said poor Mrs. Pepper, who was almost stunned.

“To come here and live!” cried Jasper, unable to keep still any longer—and springing to the children. “Don't you want to, Joe?”

“To live!” screamed Joel. “Oh whickety, yes! Do ma, do come here and live—do!”

“To live?” echoed Phronsie,