“I wouldn’t have ’em in the house—they could stay outdoors, in the orchard.”
“Well, I think we’d both better get back to our work instead of standing here to talk about having company,” said Polly gaily. Then she stopped. “Why, Joel, perhaps you could have some company to-morrow. I do believe Mamsie would let you, after all.”
“Can I—can I?” cried Joel eagerly, and prancing all about her.
“I almost know that she will let you ask—”
“Who?” interrupted Joel with a gasp.
“Peletiah and Ezekiel.”
“Oh, I don’t want them,” howled Joel, horribly disappointed.
“Well, now you see,” said Polly; “Mrs. Brown doesn’t want us, and you think she ought to. Now here’s a chance for you to ask somebody you don’t want to.”
Joel puckered up his round cheeks and ran off to the corner of the woodshed. “Have I got to?” he asked, coming slowly back with a wry face.
“No,” said Polly coolly; “only you think Mrs. Brown is bad not to ask us.”