Five Little Peppers And How They Grew | Page 7

looked up into Polly's own, for comfort. "I can fix it, I
most know; do get some paper, Joe, as quick as you can."
"Don't know where there is any," said Joel, rummaging around; "it's all
tore up; 'xcept the almanac; can't I take that?"
"Oh dear, no!" cried Polly; "put it right back, Joe; I guess there's some
in the wood-shed."

"There isn't either," said little Davie, quickly; "Joel and I took it to
make kites with."
"Oh dear," groaned Polly; "I don't know what we shall do; unless," as a
bright thought struck her, "you let me have the kites, boys."
"Can't," said Joel; "they're all flew away; and torn up."
"Well, now, children," said Polly, turning round impressively upon
them, the effect of which was heightened by the extremely crocky
appearance she had gained in her explorations, "we must have some
paper, or something to stop up that old hole with--some way, there!"
"I know," said little Davie, "where we'll get it; it's upstairs;" and
without another word he flew out of the room, and in another minute he
put into Polly's hand an old leather boottop, one of his most treasured
possessions. "You can chip it," he said, "real fine, and then 'twill go in."
"So we can," said Polly; "and you're a real good boy, Davie, to give it;
that's a splendid present to help celebrate for mamsic!"
"I'd a-given a boot-top," said Joel, looking grimly at the precious bit of
leather which Polly was rapidly stripping into little bits, "if I'd a-hed it;
I don't have anything!"
"I know you would, Joey," said Polly, kindly; "there now, you'll stay, I
guess!" as with the united efforts of the two boys, cheered on by
Phronsie's enthusiastic little crow of delight, the leather was crowded
into place, and the fire began to burn.
"Now, boys," said Polly, getting up, and drawing a long breath, "I'm
going over to Grandma Bascom's to get her to tell me how to make the
cake; and you must stay and keep house."
"I'm going to nail," said Joel; "I've got lots to do."
"All right," said Polly, tying on her hood; "Phronsie'll love to watch
you; I won't be gone long," and she was off.

"Grandma Bascom," wasn't really the children's grandmother; only
everybody in the village called her so by courtesy. Her cottage was
over across the lane, and just a bit around the corner; and Polly flew
along and up to the door, fully knowing that now she would be helped
out of her difliculty. She didn't stop to knock, as the old lady was so
deaf she knew she wouldn't hear her, but opened the door and walked
in. Grandma was sweeping up the floor, already as neat as a pin; when
she saw Polly coming, she stopped, and leaned on her broom.
"How's your ma?" she asked, when Polly had said "good morning," and
then hesitated.
"Oh, mammy's pretty well," shouted Polly into the old lady's ear; "and
to-morrow's her birthday!"
"To-morrow'll be a bad day!" said grandma. "Oh, don't never say that.
You mustn't borrow trouble, child."
"I didn't," said Polly; "I mean--it's her birthday, grandma!" this last so
loud that grandma's cap-border vibrated perceptibly.
"The land's sakes 'tis!" cried Mrs. Bascom, delightedly; "you don't say
so!"
"Yes," said Polly, skipping around the old lady, and giving her a small
hug; "and we're going to give her a surprise."
"What is the matter with her eyes?" asked grandma, sharply, turning
around and facing her; "she's been a-sewin' too stiddy, hain't she?"
"A surprise!" shouted Polly, standing upon tiptoe, to bring her mouth
on a level with the old lady's ear; "a cake, grandma, a big one!"
"A cake!" exclaimed grandma, dropping the broom to settle her cap,
which Polly in her extreme endeavors to carry on the conversation, had
knocked slightly awry; "well, that'll be fine."
"Yes," said Polly, picking up the broom, and ffinging off her hood at

the same time; "and, oh! won't you please tell me how to make it,
grandma!"
"To be sure; to be sure;" cried the old lady, delighted beyond measure
to give advice; "I've got splendid receets; I'll go get 'em right off," and
she ambled to the door of the pantry.
"And I'll finish sweeping up," said Polly, which grandma didn't hear; so
she took up the broom, and sent it energetically, and merrily flying
away to the tune of her own happy thoughts.
"Yes, they're right in here," said grandma, waddling back with an old
tin teapot in her hand;--"goodness, child! what a dust you've kicked up!
that ain't the way to sweep." And she took the broom out of Polly's
hand, who stood quite still in mortification.
"There," she said, drawing it mildly over the few bits she