"Tried to go across the street and got knocked down," volunteered a man, who, having seen all he wanted to, kindly made way for Polly to take his place.
"O dear me!" she began, then she caught sight of the face. "Ben," she clutched his sleeve, "it's Joel's old lady!"
Sure enough, the face, now as white as the big puffs of hair above it, came into view as two men lifted the owner, a big, stately woman, to the sidewalk. They came close to the little Peppers, so that the stiff black silk coat, now plentifully besprinkled with mud, brushed them as it passed. Joel gave a howl as she was carried by. "It's that cross old woman!" he exclaimed.
"Hush, Joel!" Polly pulled his arm.
"Get out of the way!" said the men, pushing with their burden into the drug store, two doors off.
The bystanders, having seen all that satisfied their curiosity, rushed off to the delayed Christmas shopping. Only the Pepper children were left.
"Polly," said Ben, hoarsely, and his blue eyes shone, "just think, supposing she belonged to us."
"She couldn't," said Joel, decidedly, "she's awful cross."
"For shame, Joel," said Ben, sternly. "I'm going in to see." He hurried after just as the men laid down the old woman on the marble floor.
"Blest if I know who she is!" said one of them, wiping his forehead as the perspiration rushed off.