Part 68

“Oh,” said Polly, “it would scare mamsie most to death, Jappy!”

“Don't tell her the whole,” said Jasper, quickly, “I didn't mean that--about the horses and all that--but only enough to let her see how Phronsie tried to get it to her.”

“And I'm going to write to your brother Joel,” said Van, drawing up to the library table; “I'll scare him, Polly, I guess; he won't tell your mother.”

“Your crow-tracks'll scare him enough without anything else,” said Percy, pleasantly, who really could write very nicely, while Polly broke out in an agony:

“Oh, no, Van, you mustn't! you mustn't!”

“If Van does,” said Jasper, decidedly, “it'll be the last time he'll write to the 'brown house,' I can tell him; and besides, he'll go to Coventry.” This had the desired effect.

“Let's all write,” said Polly.

So a space on the table was cleared, and the children gathered around it, when there was great scratching of pens, and clearing of ideas; which presently resulted in a respectable budget of letters, into which Phronsie's was lovingly tucked in the centre; and then they all filed out to put it into the letterbox in the hall, for Thomas to mail with the rest in the morning.

GETTING READY FOR MAMSIE AND THE BOYS

“And I'll tell you, Marian, what I am going to do.”

Mr. King's voice was pitched on a higher key than usual; and extreme determination was expressed in every line of his face. He had met Mrs. Whitney at the foot of the staircase, dressed for paying visits. “Oh, are you going out?” he said, glancing impatiently at her attire. “And I'd just started to speak to you on a matter of great importance! Of the greatest importance indeed!” he repeated irritably, as he stood with one gloved hand resting on the balustrade.

“Oh, it's no matter, father,” she replied pleasantly; “if it's really important, I can postpone going for another day, and--”

“Really important!” repeated the old gentleman irascibly. “Haven't I just told you it's of the greatest importance? There's no time to be lost; and with my state of health too, it's of the utmost consequence that I shouldn't be troubled. It's very bad for me; I should think you would realize that, Marian.”

“I'll tell Thomas to take the carriage directly back,” said Mrs. Whitney stepping to the door. “Or stay, father; I'll just run up and send the children out for a little drive. The horses ought to be used too, you know,” she said lightly, preparing to run up to carry out the changed plan.

“Never mind that now,” said Mr. King abruptly. “I want you to give me your attention directly.” And walking towards the library door, getting a fresh accession of impatience with every step, he beckoned her to follow.

But his progress was somewhat impeded by little Dick--or rather, little Dick and Prince, who were standing at the top of the stairs to see Mrs. Whitney off. When he saw his mother retrace her steps, supposing her yielding to the urgent entreaties that he was sending after her to stay at home, the child suddenly changed his “Good-byes” to vociferous howls of delight, and speedily began to plunge down the stairs to welcome her.

But the staircase was long, and little Dick was in a hurry, and besides, Prince was in the way. The consequence was, nobody knew just how, that a bumping noise struck into the conversation that made the two below in the hall look up quickly, to see the child and dog come rolling over the stairs at a rapid rate.

“Zounds!” cried the old gentleman. “Here, Thomas, Thomas!” But as that individual was waiting patiently outside the door on the carriage box, there was small hope of his being in time to catch the boy, who was already in his mother's arms, not quite clear by the suddenness of the whole thing, as to how he came there.

“Oh! oh! Dicky's hurt!” cried somebody up above--followed by every one within hearing distance, and all came rushing to the spot to ask a thousand questions all in the same minute.

There sat Mrs. Whitney in one of the big carved chairs, with little Dick in her lap, and Prince walking gravely around and around him with the greatest expression of concern on his noble face. Mr. King was storming up and down, and calling on everybody to bring a “bowl of water, and some brown paper; and be quick!” interpolated with showers of blame on Prince for sitting on the stairs, and tripping people up! while Dick meanwhile was laughing and chatting, and enjoying the distinction of making so many people run, and of otherwise being the object of so much attention!

“I don't think he was sitting on the stairs, father,” said Jasper, who, when he saw that Dicky was really unhurt, began to vindicate his dog. “He never does that; do you Sir?” he said patting the head that was lifted up to him, as if to be defended.

“And I expect we shall all be killed some day, Jasper,” said Mr. King, warming with his subject; and forgetting all about the brown paper and water which he had ordered, and which was now waiting for him at his elbow, “just by that creature.”

“He's the noblest--” began Jasper, throwing his arms around his neck; an example which was immediately followed by the Whitney boys, and the two little Peppers. When Dick saw this, he began to struggle to get down to add himself to the number.

“Where's the brown paper?” began Mr. King, seeing this and whirling around suddenly. “Hasn't any body brought it yet?”

“Here 'tis sir,” said Jane, handing him a generous supply. “Oh, I don't want to,” cried little Dick in dismay, seeing his grandfather advance with an enormous piece of paper, which previously wet in the bowl of water, was now unpleasantly clammy and wet--“oh, no, I don't want to be all stuck up with old horrid wet paper!”

“Hush, dear!” said his mamma, soothingly. “Grandpapa wants to put it on--there--” as Mr. King dropped it scientifically on his head, and then proceeded to paste another one over his left eye.

“And I hope they'll all drop off,” cried Dick, savagely, shaking his head to facilitate matters. “Yes, I do, every single one of 'em!” he added, with an expression that seen under the brown bits was anything but benign.

“Was Prince on the stairs, Dick?” asked Jasper, coming up and peering under his several adornments. “Tell us how you fell!”