"Joe, Joe!" cried Ben, suddenly.
"That man pushed me with an old bundle," said Joel, his eyes flashing.
"Well, come on," said Ben, picking his sleeve. Polly, busy with Phronsie, had heard nothing of it.
"O dear, dear!" David was wailing.
"And I'll give you something more'n a push if you don't get out of the way," declared the expressman, trying to look over his shoulder as he edged his way to the wagon, "you saucy cub, you!"
"And he's calling me names," cried Joel, wildly; "let me go back and make him stop," and he shook his small fists in the air. "He's a bad old man and he hasn't any right. Let me go, Ben."
But Ben by this time had Joel well within the shop, and, the others following, they were soon lost in the important business of choosing Christmas presents.
"Let Phronsie buy hers first," said Polly. And the others, even Joel, saying, "Yes, let Phronsie buy hers first," they edged their way along, Phronsie proclaiming in a high key, as they threaded their course down a long aisle, that she was going to buy Grandpapa a cat, so that everybody turned and smiled, until at last they found a saleswoman, who seemed to be willing and able to wait on them.
"So you want a cat?" she said to Phronsie, who could just manage to see over the counter by standing on her tiptoes.
"Yes," said Phronsie, "I do, a really and truly cat for my dear Grandpapa."