"So you can," cried Polly, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, and winking furiously over at the boys.
"And we can write more letters," cried Jasper suddenly, springing over to
Phronsie's side.
"Phoo!" exclaimed Joel, "we've got bushels already."
"Well, it's nice to have more yet," retorted Jasper, "so you better keep still, old fellow."
"I shall write some more," announced Van, with great pomposity, strutting up and down the room.
"Hoh-hoh!" laughed Joel, snapping his fingers in derision, "you haven't finished one yet, and beside, who can read your chicken tracks?"
"I have, too," declared Van, very red in the face, ignoring the reflection on his writing and plunging over to Jasper. "Haven't I, Jasper, written a letter for the post office? Say, haven't I?"—gripping him by the jacket-sleeve.
"Yes, you have," said Jasper. "He handed it in this afternoon," he added, nodding to the group.
"There, you see." Van rushed triumphantly up in front of Joel. "You see,
Joel Pepper, so you've just got to take that back."
"Well, only one," said Joel, "and there can't any one read it, so that's no good."