“I’ve got a red cape, and it’s mine,” announced Phronsie, nodding over to Ben.
“Have you?” cried Ben, in great surprise.
“I gave her Great-grandmother’s cape,” said the parson’s wife, down the table-length to her husband; “it’s dreadfully moth-eaten, but I think Mrs. Pepper can make her a little red coat out of the good part.”
“I wish you’d give her all the rest of the old things,” said the parson. “You get all tired out pulling them over.”
“I’ve had a good time this morning anyway,” said his wife, and she smiled down at Polly.
And after dinner, when they really couldn’t eat any more ham and eggs and baked Indian pudding, Peletiah came up to Polly.
“I want to play ‘Stage-coach Jerusalem,’” he said, “and Ezekiel does, too.”
“Oh,” cried Polly, “I guess we can, now Ben has come, only—” and she looked at the dinner-table, and all the dishes to be cleared off and washed and set away—“we’ve got to do these first.”
“We’re going to play ‘Stage-coach Jerusalem,’” said Ezekiel, hurrying over to Ben, who had been looking on quite puzzled. “Peletiah said he did it, and everybody but you, over to your house yesterday.”
“Oh,” said Ben.