“If we only had some flowers,” said Polly, “that would set 'em off.”
“You're always a-thinkin' of flowers, Polly,” said Ben. “I guess the cakes'll have to go without 'em.”
“I suppose they will,” said Polly, stifling a little sigh. “Where's the paper?”
“I've got a nice piece up-stairs,” said Ben, “just right; I'll get it.”
“Put my 'gingerbread boy' on top,” cried Phronsie, handing him up.
So Polly packed the little cakes neatly in two rows, and laid the 'gingerbread boy' in a fascinating attitude across the top.
“He looks as if he'd been struck by lightning!” said Ben, viewing him critically as he came in the door with the paper.
“Be still,” said Polly, trying not to laugh; “that's because he baked so funny; it made his feet stick out.”
“Children,” said Mrs. Pepper, “how'll Jasper know where the cakes come from?”
“Why, he'll know it's us,” said Polly, “of course; 'cause it'll make him think of the baking we're going to have when he gets well.”