“Hush,” cried Ben, pulling his sleeve, “Mamsie’ll hear. Well, supposing we can’t, that’s not worth crying about.”
“We can’t see the el’funt,” said Joel again, but this time to little David. But David was pressed up closely to Ben’s side, so he didn’t appear to hear the statement and Joel in a greater surprise than ever, was again reiterating it, when Polly ran out of the bedroom.
“Oh, boys,” she began. She didn’t dare look at Ben, but somehow she seemed to feel his approval hop right down into a corner of her heart, “let’s set up the kitchen. You must fix the mat, Joey. You kicked it up, and we must get it down straight before Mamsie comes back.”
“We can’t see the el’funt,” began Joel, in a loud, injured tone, hurrying over to her; Polly would hear him anyway.
“Yes,—yes, never mind,” cried Polly, rushing about, straightening the chairs against the wall, and making a great to-do about fixing up.
“Never mind!” and “that’s no matter.” Joel whirled about in astonishment. Little David was down on the floor, pulling the braided mat straight, while Ben had run over to help Polly, and they were whispering away at a great rate.
“I’m going to do that,” cried Joel, getting down to twitch the mat from Davie’s fingers; “Polly told me to do it.”
“Now, then,” back came Polly and Ben together. “We must see what else we can do,” cried Polly, in a twitter to provide something to keep the small fingers busy. And, “O dear me! They’ll begin talking about the circus if we can’t find something more for them to do. Oh, Ben, I can’t think of a single thing.”
“Joel,” said Ben, “I’m going to Grandma Bascom’s; want to come with me, and Davie?” He edged to the door looking back as he spoke.
“Don’t you?” Both boys sprang after him as quick as a shot, and none too soon, for out came Mrs. Pepper from the bedroom just as the door shut.