“And that old sunbonnet is going to stay tied this time,” declared Polly, getting down on her knees to make a wonderful bow of the strings; “there, says I, Pet, that won’t come out! Now, Mr. Sunbonnet, you behave yourself!” And she gave a pat on Phronsie’s head.
“Mr. Sunbonnet, you behave yourself,” gurgled Phronsie. So the three children all took hold of hands and started again, Mrs. Pepper and Polly watching them as before, until they were lost in the turn of the road.
All this made them somewhat late at the little shoe-shop down on Badgertown’s Main Street. Old Mrs. Beebe, in one of her best caps with flying pink ribbons, had been out to the old green door, at least three times, shading her eyes, and peering down the narrow cobbled pavement to come back in disappointment.
“You are sure Mis’ Pepper understood ’twas to-day th’ children was to come, Pa?” she asked at last.
“Did you ever know Mis’ Pepper to make a mistake?” answered the old gentleman, calmly sewing up a rip in one of his own old shoes that had been waiting for just such a spare time. He was just as much put out as was his wife at the threatened loss of the visit, but it never would do for both of them to show it at the same time.
“How you can, Pa, go right on sewin’ an’ mendin’ same’s every day,” exclaimed old Mrs. Beebe, sitting down heavily on the settee running the length of their little shop where customers sat to have their boots and shoes fitted on, “I don’t see, when we’re ’xpectin’ those blessed children every minute.” She smoothed down her black silk apron with her plump hands in vexation.
“It’s just because I am ’xpectin’ of ’em every minute to come in,” said old Mr. Beebe, “that I can set an’ be comf’table,” and he drew up his thread with slow, careful fingers.
“Well, I can’t,” said the old lady, twitching the pink flying ribbons on either side of her cheeks into better place. “Dear me, I wonder if I got out enough doughnuts; they’ll be awful hungry when they first get here,” and she hurried off into the pantry opening into the room back of the little shop. For this reason, she didn’t hear the small steps on the cobblestones underneath the little-paned window, nor the rattling of the latch, nor any of the bustle of the entrance of the little Peppers. And when she got back after replenishing the doughnut plate, there they were surrounding old Mr. Beebe’s chair!
But didn’t they get a good welcome, though! And Phronsie’s pink sunbonnet untied and hung up carefully in Mrs. Beebe’s bedroom, she soon had a doughnut in her hand while she sat on Mr. Beebe’s knee; and Mother Beebe regaled the two boys with a sugary one apiece, and then they each had a cup of real milk.
“I like it,” said Phronsie, very gravely, when the old lady set down the cup and wiped off the white drops that trailed away from the little lips; “very much indeed, dear Mrs. Beebe. Why don’t I ever have truly milk at home?” And she put up her mouth for some more.