“No,” said Davie, shaking his head, “but if Polly could go, too.”
“That would be a big company on Mrs. Brown’s hands,” said Mrs. Pepper, with a little laugh. “Now, Davie, set to work and do all the things Polly wants you to do to-day, for to-morrow morning Mr. Brown is coming for us bright and early.”
David turned away from the window. He was going to sigh, but seeing Mother Pepper’s face, he smiled instead.
“What can I do, Polly?” he cried, running up to her.
Polly had her head all tied up in Mother Pepper’s big sweeping-cap. “Let me see,” she paused on her way for the broom. “Oh, you might clean out the ‘Provision Room,’ Davie.”
“I will,” said Davie, hurrying out to the woodshed to get the old broom, a rough wisp of a thing almost worn down to the handle. But it was good enough for the Provision Room.
“And I should think the potatoes needed looking over,” said Mrs. Pepper, on her way to the bedroom.
“I’ll do ’em, too,” said Davie.
“You better do the potatoes first,” said Polly, picking off her broom from its nail in the corner, “before you sweep the ‘Provision Room’ out, Davie.”
“I will,” promised Davie, hurrying out to the woodshed.