“There, now, we’re ready,” announced Polly, standing by the line of chairs set in the middle of the floor; “oh, no, not quite—you must turn that one around, Davie.”
“So I must,” laughed little David, running to do it.
“I’m going to play ‘Stage-coach,’” announced Phronsie, in great glee, running over to stand in front of Peletiah and look up at him. “I am.” And she smoothed down her pink apron with great satisfaction.
“Come, Peletiah,” called Polly, at the head of the line; “come, Joel!”
All the little Peppers rushed up to her, but Peletiah stood stock-still.
“Now, you know,” said Polly, standing very importantly at the head of the line of chairs, “I ought to tell you, Peletiah, this is the way we play Stage-coach, because there aren’t enough of us to play it the really truly way, so we put ‘Going to Jerusalem’ and ‘Stage-coach’ together. Now, come on, we’re ready to begin.” So Polly commenced to sing, as she slowly walked around the line, Phronsie pattering after, and then Joel and little David, all screaming at the top of their voices—“We’re going to Je—ru—sa—lem, now won’t you come with us? We’re going to Je—ru—sa—lem, now won’t you come with us?” and then suddenly, without a bit of warning, she cried, “we’re going in a stage-coach,” just as fast as she could say it, and the whole line broke into a wild scramble for the chairs, and everybody had a seat, for there was Peletiah standing in his same place, and looking at them all.
“I told you he couldn’t play,” said Joel, hopping off from his chair, but Polly was over by the minister’s boy.
“Had you rather play something else, Peletiah?” she asked, anxiously. Oh, if Mamsie would only come home, and how very dreadful it was, not to be able to do something for the minister’s boy when dear Mrs. Henderson was so good to them! Polly racked her brains to think of just the right thing.
“Perhaps he’d like ‘Sally Waters’ best,” she said, looking over at little David. It was small use, she knew, to ask Joel.
“I like ‘Sally Waters,’” said little David, coming up to her side, “ever so much, Polly.”