And now they were all ready, and Mrs. Pepper on the steps gave her last injunction to Polly, who held tightly the old leather purse, with the precious money, in her hand,—“to be sure and take the right change,” and “to get them plenty broad” (not the change, but the shoes), and “not to let anything happen to Phronsie;” “oh! and not to get them ‘rights and lefts,’ you know, but ‘evens,’ Polly,”—all of which directions she had given carefully before. All this made great confusion, of course, but it only added to the general delight, while Joel and David were screaming in chorus for them to “come or they’d be late!”
But at last they were off, and Mrs. Pepper from the doorstep shaded her eyes with her hands—perhaps the sun was too bright for them. Her precious load of little ones; might she only have more sunshine to put into their lives! Well, at least, they should enjoy this, bless them!
Merry was the ride to town. Once Polly was afraid she had dropped the old purse when she leaned over to tie Phronsie’s tippet a little tighter, and they were all aghast for a minute at this tremendous fright; but, on Ben’s pulling up the old horse, she found it in her lap safe and sound. So they were merrier than ever out of contrast, and Deacon Brown’s horse so far overcame his usual melancholy manner as to quite enjoy the jolly crowd behind him, and to gallop and plunge in quite a festive manner along the road.
At last they turned into the village street and came in sight of the shops. Then it was that Phronsie sat straight up and began to look eagerly from one side to the other. They passed the milliner’s, gay with ribbons and spring bonnets, and two or three other stores of various descriptions, until they came to a little unpretending shop, crowded in between two others, over whose green door hung the modest sign of “J. Beebe, Boots and Shoes.”
When Phronsie caught sight of the little window strung with shoes of every size, from the littlest wee ones up, she cried out, “Oh, there ’tis, Ben! there ’tis! Oh, do stop!” long before they reached it.
“Yes, yes, child,” said Polly, “Ben’s going to. Joe, now you mustn’t! You know you told Mamsie you’d be good.” For Polly saw premonitory signs of Joe’s giving one of his awful whoops to announce their arrival.
The whoop died away in Joe’s throat as he reflected he never should get another chance to come “to town” with Polly, who was quite fastidious as to manners, if he indulged too boisterously now.
So they bundled out and up the steps, Joel quite gallantly opening the door for his sisters, to atone; while Ben fastened the horse to the well-worn post.
Old Mr. Beebe, smiling at the thought of customers, came, rubbing his hands, out from his little room at the back that served his old wife and himself as both parlor and kitchen. Oh, how magnificent it all looked to Phronsie! Oh, so many shoes, and such beautiful ones! Where did all the people live who could want so many! Great green things, that she found afterward were boxes, had shoes and slippers hanging and dangling to them; and then, away up by the top of the shelf were boots,—oh, as big as Ben’s!—and all around the little dingy room were rubbers, shoes, and slippers wherever there was a spot big enough to contain them. And, over and above it all, such a lovely smell of leather. Well, it was the most delightful place!
“And now, my little dears, what can I do for you to-day?” said old Mr. Beebe, pleasantly looking from one to another of the happy group, including Ben who had now joined them.