“Eh?” said Dr. Fisher. Then he set down his bag and looked over at Mrs. Pepper. So then the story had to come out. When it was all told and Dr. Fisher became quiet, for he was almost as bad as Polly in his indignation, and Davie’s legs and shoulders had been taken care of, “You don’t need to do anything, Mrs. Pepper,” he said, “I’ll take care of that brute of a man.”
And Mother Pepper said just as she had told the young farmer, “Oh, no, I will see to the matter myself.”
“Oh, goody—I got the wood all piled at Deacon Blodgett’s.” In rushed Joel. “Come on, Dave,” and he was scurrying over to Mamsie’s big chair, when he spied the basket on the floor, for nobody had thought or cared about it. And there was the jar of Matilda’s “quince sass” that had rolled off by itself. “Oh,” he pounced upon it, “may I have some—may I?” He ran with it to Mrs. Pepper, nearly upsetting the little Doctor on the way.
“Look out there,” cried Doctor Fisher; “here, don’t run me down, Joe,” and then Joel saw Davie propped against the pillows. Down went Matilda’s “quince sass” on the kitchen floor, and he threw himself into the chair on top of Davie, poor bandaged legs and all.
The little old kitchen then was in a hubbub. It all had to be explained to Joel, who made things so very dreadful that finally Doctor Fisher said, “I’ll take him off, Mrs. Pepper. Hold on to that boy, Polly, till I’ve had a look at Ben up in the loft. If Phronsie is asleep, she’s all right. Then, Joel Pepper, you shall hop into my gig.”
CHAPTER II
MRS. PEPPER ATTENDS TO THE MATTER
PARSON HENDERSON shut the gate with a firm hand, and stepped out into the road.
The parsonage door opened, and the minister’s wife ran down the path. “Here, Adoniram, take this to Mrs. Pepper.” She put a clean folded napkin, from which came a nice smell of something newly baked, into his hand. “Oh, I do hope Mrs. Pepper will let you see that horrible Mr. Peters,” she began anxiously.
“Mrs. Pepper always knows her own mind,” said the parson, “and if she wants to attend to the matter, it’s not for us, Almira, to interfere.” He handled the napkin bundle gingerly and moved off.
“It was perfectly dreadful, Jim Thompson said, and you know he tells the truth, husband.” She pattered after him. “Do see if you can’t persuade her to let you see Mr. Peters. You know you want to.”