Five Little Peppers Grown Up | Page 6

she'll always be 'Miss Pepper the music teacher.' Isn't it horrid!"
"I believe that is our carriage," said Pickering stiffly, and without so
much as a half-glance at Billy. "Come, Alexia."

CHAPTER II
GETTING READY FOR CHRISTMAS.
"Baby ought to have a Christmas Tree," said Phronsie slowly.
"Ah--King-Fisher, how is that? Do you want a Christmas Tree?" Jasper
dropped to all-fours by the side of the white bundle in the center of the
library rug, as he propounded the momentous question.
The Baby plunged forward and buried both fat hands in the crop of

brown hair so suddenly brought to his notice.
"Is that the way to show your acknowledgment, sir?" cried Jasper,
springing to his feet, Baby and all. "Well, there you go--there, and there,
and there!" tossing the white bundle high in the air.
"Goodness! what a breeze you two contrive to raise," exclaimed Joel;
"Mamsie," as Mother Fisher put her head in the doorway, "the little
chap is getting the worst of it, I tell you."
"Joel's jealous," said Jasper, with a laugh. "Take care, King-Fisher, that
really is my hair, sir."
Mrs. Fisher nodded and chuckled to the baby, and hurried off.
"He didn't really mean to pull your hair, Jasper," said Phronsie in a
worried way; and getting up from the floor where she had been
deserted by the baby, she hurried over to the two flying around in the
center of the room.
"But he does pull dreadfully, though," said Polly, laughing, "don't you,
you little King!" pinching Baby's toes as Jasper spun him past her.
"My goodness!" exclaimed Mr. King, coming in the opposite doorway,
"I should think it was a menagerie here! What's the matter, Phronsie?"
"Baby is pulling Jasper's hair," said Phronsie slowly, and revolving
around the two dancers, "but he really doesn't mean to, Grandpapa."
"Oh! I hope he does," said old Mr. King cheerfully, coming in and
sitting down in his favorite chair. "I'm sure it speaks well for the young
man's powers of self-defense, if he gives Jasper a good tweak."
"Father!" cried Jasper in pretended astonishment. "Well, King-Fisher,
as popular opinion is against me, I'll set you down again, and nurse my
poor scalp," and down went the white bundle again to the floor,
Phronsie going back to her post as nurse.
"There's been a terrible scheme worked up since you were out, sir,"

announced Joel to the old gentleman.
"Hey--what's that?" demanded Mr. King, staring at Polly.
"Oh! it isn't Polly this time," said Joel with a laugh. "Generally it is
Polly that sets all dreadful things going; but this time, it is some other
ringleader."
"Then I am sure I sha'n't approve if Polly isn't in it," declared the old
gentleman flatly.
"But I am in it, Grandpapa," Polly made haste to say. "I think it is very,
very nice."
"That alters the case," said Mr. King. "So what is it, Joe? Out with it."
"It's nothing more nor less than to upset this house from top to bottom,"
said Joel, "and get up a dreadful howling, tearing Christmas Tree."
[Illustration: "BABY OUGHT TO HAVE A CHRISTMAS TREE,"
SAID PHRONSIE SLOWLY.]
"Oh, Joe Pepper!" ejaculated Polly reproachfully, "and you've always
had such fun over our Christmas Trees. How can you!"
"It's for Baby," cried Phronsie, with a pink flush on her cheek. "He's
never seen one, you know, Grandpapa."
"No, I should think not," said the old gentleman, looking down at the
white bundle. "Well, and so you want a Christmas Tree for him,
Phronsie child?"
"I think we ought to have one," said Phronsie, "because you know, he's
never, never seen one. And we all have had so many beautiful Trees,
Grandpapa."
"To be sure, to be sure," said Mr. King. "Well now, Phronsie child,
come here and tell me all about it," and he held out his hand.

Phronsie cast an anxious glance at the bundle. "Can I leave him,
Grandpapa?" she asked.
"Leave him? Mercy, yes; it does babies good to be left alone. He'll suck
his thumbs or his toes."
"I'll stay with him," said Polly, running out of her corner to get on her
knees before the baby. "There now, sir, do you know what a blessed old
care you are?" smothering him with kisses.
"Yes, I really think we ought to have a Christmas Tree," Phronsie was
saying, "Grandpapa dear," huddling up against his waistcoat as usual.
"Then we surely will have one," declared old Mr. King, "so that is
settled. Do you hear, young people," raising his voice, "or does that
little scamp of a baby take all your ears?"
"We hear, Grandpapa," said Polly from the floor, "and I'm very glad. It
will be good fun to get up a Christmas Tree."
"Seeing you never have had that pleasing