“I don’t want to fix it,” said Joel, quite well pleased to have nothing to do with it, and only longing for the time to come when the dishes should be placed on the table. So Polly and little David patted and pulled it quite straight and smoothed out all the crinkles. “Now,” said Polly with a long breath, stepping back to review the work, “doesn’t that look just fine though!”
Then Joel made a rush for the pantry door. “I’m going to get the dishes,” he shouted.
“Oh, no, you mustn’t, Joe,” cried Polly, in alarm. “I’m going to take them down; you might break them.”
“I ain’t goin’ to have those dishes for supper to-day,” said old Mrs. Beebe. “I’m goin’ to set out my best chiney.”
“You’re going to set out your best china!” gasped Polly, and looking over at the corner cupboard, not believing that she could have heard straight.
“Yes,” said old Mrs. Beebe, nodding till her pink cap ribbons trembled violently, “I am, for I hain’t used ’em since th’ minister took tea here when he first come to Badgertown, an’ that’s ten years ago; an’ I was thinkin’ th’ other day I wish’t I had a chance to set ’em out.”
“But s’posing we should break them.” Polly came over to say this in an awe-struck voice, while the boys, quite impressed with all this, crowded up to hear the whole of it, Phronsie was spinning around the room making a merry little cheese and humming softly to herself. It was quite enough for her to be at supper at her dear sweet Mrs. Beebe’s and to have Polly safely there.
“Oh, you won’t break any of ’em,” said the little old lady, confidently, and going over to the corner cupboard; “I shall give th’ childern some mugs, but you and Ben shall have a nice cup an’ saucer, an’ we’ll have th’ cake-plate and th’ glass pudding-dish,” and her eyes shone.
Polly turned quite pale. It was perfectly splendid, but oh, if anything should happen to those two cups and saucers that Ben and she were to have! But she had no time to worry about it, as old Mrs. Beebe now handed down from one of the shelves a china mug. “There,” she said, “that’s for Phronsie’s place. I used to drink out of it when I wasn’t any bigger’n she is. ‘From a Friend,’” read the old lady, turning the mug around so that they all could get the best view.
“Let me see—I want to see ‘From a Friend,’” screamed Joel, crowding up, while little Davie edged up to gaze at the faded gilt letters.