"Oh, Prue!" said Davy, "do let Papa go on with the story!"
"But I would. I'd say 'em sixty times!"
"Yes," said the Chief Gardener, "friars have to do that, too, I believe; but these had to do something different. They had to wear pease in their shoes."
"Had to wear pease! In their shoes!"
"Yes, pease, like those we planted, and they had to walk quite a long ways, and, of course, it wouldn't be pleasant to walk with those little hard things under your feet.
"Well, they started, and one of them went limping and stewing along, and making an awful fuss, because his feet hurt him so, but when he looked at the other he saw that instead of hobbling and groaning as he was, he was walking along, as lively as could be, and seemed to be enjoying the fine morning, and was actually whistling.
"'Oh, dear!' said the one who was limping, 'how is it you can walk along so spry, and feel so happy, with those dreadful pease in your shoes?'
"'Why,' said the other, 'before I started, I took the liberty to boil my pease!'"
"But, Papa," began little Prue, "I don't see—"
"I do," said Davy, "it made them soft, so they didn't hurt."