Mamsie turned her black eyes on Joel’s face. “If Joel wants them to come, I shall be very glad. But not unless he does want them,” she finished slowly.
Joel put his little brown hands together tightly, and looked down on the floor. “Peletiah can’t play anything,” he blurted out suddenly.
“Well, Ezekiel can,” said Polly brightly.
“Huh!” exclaimed Joel contemptuously.
“Well, we’ll play ‘Old Father Dubbin,’” said Polly; “that’ll make him play, Joey,” and she gave a little laugh.
“Will you play ‘Old Father Dubbin’?” cried Joel, looking up, and he began to laugh too.
“Yes, indeed!” promised Polly, bobbing her head so that the two brown braids flew out, “and we’ll have the best party that you ever saw, Joel Pepper!”
“I’m going to have a party, Phronsie,” Joel twitched away from Polly’s grasp on his jacket sleeve, and flew over to her, “all by myself—I am,” he cried, dreadfully excited—and giving her a bear hug.
“Take care, Joel—mind the scissors!” warned Mrs. Pepper. Too late! Phronsie, having great difficulty in making one part of the scissors stay on her fat little thumb, was just holding them up, while she wriggled her fingers into the other part, when down came Joel upon them.
“’Tain’t anything—I don’t care,” he said, bobbing up, wiping away the blood with the back of one small hand. But it came dripping down his face just as fast. Mrs. Pepper with never a word, gathered him up to her lap. Then she said, “The bowl of water, Polly.”