Part 38

“Don't you go to judging him, children, till you know.”

“Well, he promised,” said Joel, as a settler.

“Aren't you ashamed, Joel,” said his mother, “to talk about any one whose back is turned? Wait till he tells you the reason himself.”

Joel hung his head, and then began to tease David in the corner, to make up for his disappointment.

The next morning Ben had to go to the store after some more meal. As he was going out rather dismally, the storekeeper, who was also postmaster, called out, “Oh, halloa, there!”

“What is it?” asked Ben, turning back, thinking perhaps Mr. Atkins hadn't given him the right change.

“Here,” said Mr. Atkins, stepping up to the Post-office department, quite smart with its array of boxes and official notices, where Ben had always lingered, wishing there might be sometime a letter for him--or some of them. “You've got a sister Polly, haven't you?”

“Yes,” said Ben, wondering what was coming next.

“Well, she's got a letter,” said the postmaster, holding up a nice big envelope, looking just like those that Ben had so many times wished for. That magic piece of white paper danced before the boy's eyes for a minute; then he said, “It can't be for her, Mr. Atkins; why, she's never had one.”

“Well, she's got one now, sure enough,” said Mr. Atkins; “here 'tis, plain enough,” and he read what he had no need to study much as it had already passed examination by his own and his wife's faithful eyes: “Miss Polly Pepper, near the Turnpike, Badgertown'--that's her, isn't it?” he added, laying it down before Ben's eyes. “Must be a first time for everything, you know, my boy!” and he laughed long over his own joke; “so take it and run along home.” For Ben still stood looking at it, and not offering to stir.

“If you say so,” said the boy, as if Mr. Atkins had given him something out of his own pocket; “but I'm afraid 'tisn't for Polly.” Then buttoning up the precious letter in his jacket, he spun along home as never before.

“Polly! Polly!” he screamed. “Where is she, mother?”

“I don't know,” said Mrs. Pepper, coming out of the bedroom. “Dear me! is anybody hurt, Ben?”

“I don't know,” said Ben, in a state to believe anything, “but Polly's got a letter.”

“Polly got a letter!” cried Mrs. Pepper; “what do you mean, Ben?”

“I don't know,” repeated the boy, still holding out the precious letter; “but Mr. Atkins gave it to me; where is Polly?”

“I know where she is,” said Joel; “she's up-stairs.” And he flew out in a twinkling, and just as soon reappeared with Polly scampering after him in the wildest excitement.

And then the kitchen was in an uproar as the precious missive was put into Polly's hand; and they all gathered around her, wondering and examining, till Ben thought he would go wild with the delay.

“I wonder where it did come from,” said Polly, in the greatest anxiety, examining again the address.

“Where does the postmark say?” asked Mrs. Pepper, looking over her shoulder.

“It's all rubbed out,” said Polly, peering at it “you can't see anything.”

“Do open it,” said Ben, “and then you'll find out.”

“But p'raps 'tisn't for me,” said Polly, timidly.

“Well, Mr. Atkins says 'tis,” said Ben, impatiently; “here, I'll open it for you, Polly.”

“No, let her open it for herself, Ben,” protested his mother.

“But she won't,” said Ben; “do tear it open, Polly.”

“No, I'm goin' to get a knife,” she said.

“I'll get one,” cried Joel, running up to the table drawer; “here's one, Polly.”