“I have said that.”
“But do you really mean it?”
“Ye-es,” rather reluctantly. “At least I do when you don’t do me so mean.”
“I won’t have the house on Polly’s head then. I’ll take this high bush.” She set the scarlet-coated little figure in a bush close by. “He looks like some red flower there, doesn’t he? I’m going to get something to build the house with.”
“What kind of things?”
“Oh, leaves and moss and things.”
“Then I’ll stay here and get the grotto in order,” Jessie decided.
“I’m going to make a cradle for Peter Pan,” said Adele as she moved off.
Jessie did not follow, but busied herself in sweeping up, with a bunch of twigs, the bits of earth which had fallen down over night upon the floor of the cave, and in putting the moss into place. Ebon, hopping about, regarded her with his bright eyes, and coming nearer tried to peck at the shining piece of glass which made the lake in the centre of the grotto. “Go away, Eb,” cried Jessie. “You are getting too fusty entirely.” She shoved him away with her elbow, and he strutted off dipping his head and uttering some protesting caws. After a few minutes Jessie had the grotto in pretty good order, but concluded a few more pebbles would not come amiss. These must be found in the brook. The water was very clear, and in the shallow parts one could easily get at the pebbles lying at the bottom of the stream. There was a scraggy tree trunk at the water’s edge, and on this Jessie sat, holding on to one gnarly root while she reached over to get the pebbles. Brown leaves went drifting by on the stream; a Bob White called from the grass near by. Jessie nodded understandingly to Playmate Polly. “You like it, don’t you, Polly, or you wouldn’t stay here. The idea of any one’s building a house on your head. I shall put your hat on and then you will be able to show that you are not just an ordinary tree. But now I must take back my pebbles.”
She gathered up the little stones and returned to the grotto where she went on with her paving till she heard Adele’s voice saying: “I have some beauty leaves all red and yellow, and I found some moss, too.” Then an exclamation: “Why, where is my Peter Pan? Jessie Loomis, you have hidden him just to tease me.”