Part 18

“I don't believe anybody's got such children as I have,” she said; and she gave Polly a motherly little pat that the little daughter felt clear to the tips of her toes with a thrill of delight.

About half-past two, long after dinner, Joe came walking in, hungry as a beaver, but flushed and triumphant.

“Why, where have you been all this time?” asked his mother.

“Oh, Joe, you didn't stop to play?” asked Polly, from her perch where she sat sewing, giving him a reproachful glance.

“Stop to play!” retorted Joe, indignantly; “no, I guess I didn't! I've been to Old Peterses.”

“Not all this time!” exclaimed Mrs. Pepper.

“Yes, I have too,” replied Joel, sturdily marching up to her. “And there's your money, mother;” and he counted out a quarter of a dollar in silver pieces and pennies, which he took from a dingy wad of paper, stowed away in the depths of his pocket.

“Oh, Joe,” said Mrs. Pepper, sinking back in her chair and looking at him; “what do you mean?”

Polly put her work in her lap, and waited to hear.

“Where's my dinner, Polly?” asked Joel; “I hope it's a big one.

“Yes, 'tis,” said Polly; “you've got lots to-day, it's in the corner of the cupboard, covered up with the plate--so tell on, Joe.”

“That's elegant!” said Joel, coming back with the well-filled plate, Ben's and his own share.

“Do tell us, Joey,” implored Polly; “mother's waiting.”

“Well,” said Joel, his mouth half full, “I waited--and he said the coat was all right;--and--and--Mrs. Peters said 'twas all right;--and Mirandy Peters said 'twas all right; but they didn't any of 'em say anythin' about payin', so I didn't think 'twas all right--and--and--can't I have some more butter, Polly?”

“No,” said Polly, sorry to refuse him, he'd been so good about the money; “the butter's got to be saved for Ben and Phronsie.”

“Oh,” said Joe, “I wish Miss Henderson would send us some more, I do! I think she might!”

“For shame, Joe,” said Mrs. Pepper; “she was very good to send this, I think; now what else did you say?” she asked.

“Well,” said Joel, taking another mouthful of bread, “so I waited; you told me to, mother, you know--and they all went to work; and they didn't mind me at all, and--there wasn't anything to look at, so I sat--and sat--Polly, can't I have some gingerbread?”

“No,” said Polly, “it's all gone; I gave the last piece to Phronsie the day she was taken sick.”

“Oh, dear,” said Joel, “everything's gone.”

“Well, do go on, Joe, do.”

“And--then they had dinner; and Mr. Peters said, 'Hasn't that boy gone home yet?' and Mrs. Peters said, 'no'--and he called me in, and asked me why I didn't run along home; and I said, Phronsie was sick, and Ben had the squeezles--”

“The what?” said Polly.

“The squeezles,” repeated Joel, irritably; “that's what you said.”

“It's measles, Joey,” corrected Mrs. Pepper; “never mind, I wouldn't feel bad.”

“Well, they all laughed, and laughed, and then I said you told me to wait till I did get the money.”

“Oh, Joe,” began Mrs. Pepper, “you shouldn't have told 'em so--what did he say?”

“Well, he laughed, and said I was a smart boy, and he'd see; and Mirandy said, 'do pay him, pa, he must be tired to death'--and don't you think, he went to a big desk in the corner, and took out a box, and 'twas full most of money--lots! oh! and he gave me mine--and--that's all; and I'm tired to death.” And Joel flung himself down on the floor, expanded his legs as only Joel could, and took a comfortable roll.