"I didn't mean to," said Joel, the color all over his chubby face, "but my, see what a lot! The post office won't hold 'em all!"
"We'll put them with the others," cried Jasper, "and thank you, oh, so much, Mr. Dyce; we can't have too many. Come on, all of you, and see our pile"—running out into the hall, headed for his den.
"You must thank Miss Mary," said Mr. Dyce.
But Miss Mary laughingly protesting the gratitude was not so much due to her, the whole company filed out after Jasper in great good spirits.
Little Davie, back of the sofa, poked up his head.
"Are they all gone, Mamsie?" he asked fearfully.
"Why, Davie, my boy!" exclaimed Mother Fisher, much startled, and laying down her needle, stuck in a stocking-heel, "I thought you were upstairs with Ben."
"I haven't been with Ben." said David, working his way out, to run and lay his swollen little face in his mother's lap. She cleared away her work, and took him up, to gather him close in her arms.
"There, there, Davie, mother's boy, it's all right"—smoothing the hair away from the hot brow—"we can have the garden party another day, and then perhaps there'll be all the more pleasure and good time."
"Tisn't that," said little Davie, wriggling around to look up at her, "but
Polly—" and for a moment it seemed as if the floods were to descend again.