Five Little Peppers Abroad - Margaret Sidney (books for 6 year olds to read themselves .TXT) 📗

by a big girl, evidently her sister. This big sister stopped the ring game, every now and then, to kiss the round face by the side of her gown; an example that was followed by so many of the other girls, that the game seemed to be never quite finished. And once in a while, big sister would pick up the chubby, little, blue-pinafored maiden and carry her through a considerable portion of the game, then down she would put her on her two chubby feet, and away they all circled without any break in the proceedings at all.

"Oh! isn't it 'Oats, Peas, Beans, and Barley grow'?" cried Polly, as they watched them intently.

"Ever so much like it," said Tom. "See those boys; now they are going to make trouble."

"Oh, they sha'n't!" declared Polly. "O dear me!" as one boy drew near, on the side next to the travellers, and watching his chance, picked at a flying apron or two. But the ring of girls paid no more attention to him, than they had to any other outside matters, being wholly absorbed in the game. So Polly and the others breathed freely again.

But up came another boy. "O dear me!" cried Polly, aghast. When number three put in an appearance, she gave up all hope at once.

"They're jealous chaps," cried Tom, "and are vexed because they can't get into the game! Hear them jeer!" And his long arm went out and picked a jacket-end of an urchin, who, incautiously regarding such quiet travellers as not worth minding, had hovered too near, while trying to tease the girls.

"Here, you, sir," cried Tom, with a bit of a shake, and a torrent of remarkably good French not to be disregarded; then he burst into a laugh. And the urchin laughed too, thinking this much better fun to tussle with the tall lad, than to hang around a parcel of girls. And presently a woman came and took little blue pinafore off, and then the rest of the girls unclasped their hands, and the ring melted away, and the game was over.

"I'm glad the girls over here have fun," said Polly, as Grandpapa and his party moved off. "Isn't it nice to think they do?"

"It isn't much matter where you live, there's a good deal to be gotten out of life; if you only know how," said the parson, thinking busily of the little brown house.

Two or three days of rest at Martigny put everybody in good shape, and gave them all a bit of time to pick up on many little things that were behindhand. Tom looked over all his floral treasures, with their last additions made at the Riffelalp, and discarded such as hadn't pressed well. And Jasper and Polly rushed up to date with their journals, and wrote letters home; and Adela worked up her studies and sketches.

Tom looked on silently when Polly and Jasper were scraping their pens in a lively fashion in the little writing room of the hotel. "That's my third letter, Polly," announced Jasper, on the other side of the table. "Now, I am going to begin on Joel's."

"One, two," said Polly, counting, "why, I thought I'd written three; well, this one is most finished, Jasper."

"Yes," said Jasper, glancing over at her, "is that your last page, Polly?"

"Yes," said Polly, hurrying away. Then she thought of what Mamsie had said, and slackened her speed.

Tom cleared his throat, and tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come nicely, so he burst out, "I say, I wish you'd write to my granddaddy, both of you," and then he stood quite still, and very red in the face.

Polly looked up quickly, her pen dropping from her fingers, and Jasper deserted his fourth letter and stared.

"Why," said Polly, finding her tongue, "we wouldn't dare, Tom Selwyn."

"Dare!" said Tom, delighted to think that no terrible result had really ensued from his words, that after they were out, had scared him mightily. "Oh, if you knew granddaddy!" And he sank into a chair by the table, and played with the heap of picture postal cards that Polly was going to address next.

"We might," said Polly, slowly, "write a letter, all of us. A kind of a Round Robin thing, you know, and send that."

"So we could," cried Jasper; "how would that do, Tom?"

"The very thing!" exclaimed Tom, striking his hand so heavily on the table, that for a minute it looked as if the ink-bottle hopped.

"Take care, there's no reason you should knock things over because you are overjoyed," cried Jasper, gaily. "Well, let's leave our letters to-day, Polly, and set to on the Round Robin."

"All right," said Polly, glad to think there was anything she could really do to please the little old earl, "but would your mother like it, Tom?" She stopped slowly in putting her unfinished letter into the little writing-case, and looked at him.

"If you think there's a shadow of doubt on that score, I'd best run and ask her now." Tom got himself out of the chair, and himself from the room, and in an incredibly short space of time, back there he was. "My mother says, 'Thank Polly for thinking of it; it will do father more good than anything else could possibly do.'"

"I don't suppose you want any more answer," said Tom, quite radiant, and looking down at Polly.

"No, only I didn't think first of it," said Polly, in a distressed little tone.

"Why, Polly Pepper!" exclaimed Tom, "I certainly heard you say 'Round Robin,' when I'll venture to say not a soul of us had even thought of it; we certainly hadn't said so."

"Well, you spoke of the letter first," said Polly, unwilling to take the credit for all the comfort going to the little old earl, "and I shall tell your mother so, Tom."

"But I didn't say 'Round Robin,'" persisted Tom, "wasn't smart enough to think of it."

"And let's get to work," cried Jasper, huddling up his three letters. "I'll post yours, too, Polly; give them here."

"O dear, my stamps are all gone," said Polly, peering into the little box in one corner of her writing-case.

"I've plenty," said Jasper, hurrying off; "I'll stick on two for you."

"Oh, no, Jasper," cried Polly, after him, "you know Mamsie would not allow me to borrow."

"It isn't borrowing," said Jasper, turning back slowly. "I'll give them to you, Polly."

"But Mamsie said when we started I should get my stamps when I needed them," said Polly. "You know she did, Jasper."

"Yes, she did," said Jasper, uncomfortably. Then his face brightened, and he said, "And she's right, Polly," while Polly fished a franc out of Joel's little money-bag that hung at her belt. "Do get the stamps, please, Jasper, and put them on," as he took up her two letters. And she gave the bag a little pat for Joel's sake, wishing it was his stubby black hair that her fingers could touch.

"Dear me, you are dreadfully particular about taking two postage stamps, seems to me," said Adela, who had taken that time, as she hadn't any letters to write, to work up one of her studies from memory of the Visp.

Tom's blue eyes flashed dangerously, then he cleared his throat, whistled, and walked to the window.

"I don't know where we are going to get nice white paper for our 'Round Robin,'" said Polly, leaning her elbows on the table, and her chin in her hands.

"I know!" ejaculated Tom, whirling on his heel, and dashing out. In he came, swinging three or four goodly sheets. "Filched 'em out of the old woman's room," he said.

"Oh, Tom!" began Polly.

"I mean, the housekeeper - matron - conciergerie - whatever you call the gentle lady who runs this house - was fortunately at our desk where she has the pleasure of making up our bills, and I worked on her feelings till she parted with 'em," explained Tom.

"Oh!" said Polly; "well, I'm glad she gave them."

"Never you fear but what they'll be in our bills, Polly," said Tom, who couldn't believe by this time that he hadn't always known Polly Pepper.

"It's dreadfully thin paper," said Adela, critically, getting off from the sofa to pick at one corner of the sheet Polly was beginning to divide.

"I'm glad we have any," hummed Polly, happily.

"Thank your stars you have," said Tom, as gaily. And Jasper running in, the table was soon surrounded by the makers of the Round Robin, Adela deserting her sketch-book and pulling up a chair.

"And Phronsie must come," said Polly, snipping away to get the paper the right width. "O dear me, I can't cut it straight. Do you please finish it, Jasper."

"That's all right," said Jasper, squinting at it critically, "only
- just this edge wants a little bit of trimming, Polly." And he snipped off the offending points.

"I'll fetch Phronsie," cried Tom, springing off.

"And hurry," cried Polly and Jasper, together, after him.

"Polly," said Phronsie, as Tom came careering in with her on his shoulder. "I want to write, too, I do," she cried, very much excited.

"Of course, you shall, Pet. That's just what we want you for," cried Polly, clearing a place on the table; "there, do pull up a chair, Jasper."

"Now, Phronsie, I think you would better begin, for you are the littlest," and she flapped the long strip down in front of her.

"Oh, Polly, you begin," begged Tom.

"No, I think Phronsie ought to," said Polly, shaking her head.

"I want Polly to," said Phronsie, wriggling away from the pen that Polly held out alluringly.

"But Polly wants you to," said Jasper. "I really would, Phronsie dear, to please her."

To please Polly, being what Phronsie longed for next to pleasing Mamsie, she gave a small sigh and took the pen in unsteady fingers.

"Wait a minute, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, in dismay, "I believe we've made a mistake, Jasper, and got the wrong sheet." And Polly turned off with him to examine the rest of the paper.

Phronsie, who hadn't heard what Polly said, her small head being full of the responsibility of beginning the important letter, and considering, since it was to be done, it was best to have it over with as soon as possible, fell to scribbling the letters as fast as she could, all of them running down hill.

"Well, I'm glad to see that we haven't made any mistake," cried Polly, turning back in relief. "Oh, Phronsie, you haven't begun!"

She spoke so sharply that Phronsie started, and a little drop of ink trembling on the point of her pen concluded to hop off. So it did and jumped down on the clean white paper to stare up at them all like a very bad black eye.

"Oh, see what she's written!" cried Polly, quite aghast, and tumbling into her chair, she pointed at the top.

"Deer Mister Erl," scrawled clear across the top.

"I didn't - mean - oh, you said do it, Polly." Phronsie threw herself out of her chair, and over into Polly's lap, burrowing and wailing piteously.

"O dear me, how could I say anything?" cried Polly, overcome with remorse and patting Phronsie's yellow hair; "but it is so very dreadful. O dear me! Phronsie, there, there, don't cry. O dear me!"

Tom's mouth trembled. "It's all right.