“I d’no’s I do,” replied the old man, grudgingly; “well, send him along; tell him to come to-morrow.” And he stumped out, untied his old horse, upon whom, as soon as he got into the wagon, he bestowed a stinging blow from the whip, and rattled off at a smart rate down the road.
The storekeeper leaned his hands on the counter. “Sassy, was he?” he ejaculated with delight. “Well, I guess Joel can take care o’ hisself wherever he goes. An’ it’s th’ only place there is. Yes, I’ll advise him to try it.”
And on the morrow, sure enough, Joel, as tidy as possible (for although the material might be well worn down to its bones, Mrs. Pepper always kept the clothes of the children clean and wholesome), set forth on his long walk to old Mr. Peters’s house. The worst of it was, that David was not allowed to go. He had not been asked by the prospective employer, so, of course, he must stay at home, and he now plastered his face against the small-paned window as Joel went out of the old kitchen and off to his work. He felt very big, and he tried to walk just like Ben, pushing up his little shoulders sturdily, holding his head high, and clutching his bundle of dinner, that Polly had put up for him, under his arm.
“Make it a big one, do, Polly,” he had begged, prancing after her as she went to the bread-pantry.
“Yes, I will, Joey,” she cried. “O dear me!” she was just going to say, “you mustn’t go to Old Man Peters’s.” Then she remembered what the mother had said, “We can’t choose our work, Polly, and we’d ought to be thankful that Joel has got the chance,” and she stifled the sigh, and cut off a generous slice, bemoaning all the while to herself that it wasn’t cake.
“If we only had something nice to give him, Mammy,” she mourned, hurrying over to Mrs. Pepper’s chair when Joel had raced off to wash his face for the last time.
“It’s the best we’ve got,” said Mrs. Pepper, bravely. Yet she looked tired, and a little white line was beginning to come around her mouth.
“Sometime, we are going to be rich; oh, awfully rich, Mamsie,” cried Polly, when she saw that. Then she danced off to the old bread-box again, and pretty soon Joel’s dinner was all ready, and he was kissed and pulled into shape by Polly, and then Phronsie had to be hugged, and last of all, Mamsie, because little Davie was not to be counted, as he clung to Joel through the whole time.
“Joel,” Mrs. Pepper laid down her needle and looked into his black eyes, “we’re going to be very glad that you’re working for Mr. Peters.”
Joel squirmed at the name, but he never took his gaze from her face.