“Hush!” said Jasper warningly, “don't let Phronsie hear; well, here's my pet now,” and after bobbing lovingly to the others, with eyes beaming over with fun, he caught up the little girl who was screaming—“Oh, here's Jasper! and my beyew-ti-ful doggie!”
“Now Phronsie,” he cried, “give me a kiss; you haven't any soft soap to-day, have you? no; that's a good, nice one, now; your 'gingerbread boy' was just splendid!”
“Did he eat it?” asked the child in grave delight.
“Well—no—he hasn't eaten it yet,” said Jasper, smiling on the others; “he's keeping it to look at, Phronsie.”
“I should think so!” groaned Polly.
“Never mind, Polly,” Ben whispered; “Jasper's been a-tellin' me about it; his father liked it—he did truly.”
“Oh!” said Polly, “I'm so glad!”
“He had eyes,” said Phronsie, going back to the charms of the “gingerbread boy.”
“I know it,” said Jasper admiringly; “so he did.”
“Rather deep sunk, one of 'em was,” muttered Ben.