“Can’t you let her be, Ma,” said the farmer, stopping at the door-stone on his way to the barn to untackle Jingo; “when a person’s comf’table, let ’em stay so, I say.”
“I know how to take care o’ my comp’ny,” said his wife, “you look out for the boy, an’ I’ll see to Mis Pepper and th’ little gal.” Then to her great delight, Mother Pepper turned and came up to the big porch.
“Now you lay off your things in here,” said Mrs. Brown, leading the way to the big bedroom in the ell. The chintz curtains swung in the breeze that carried a pleasant fragrance from the sweet-brier climbing over the windows. “Lay your bunnit an’ shawl right on th’ bed, Mis Pepper,” patting the pieced bedquilt of a gorgeous “rising sun” pattern. “An’, little girl, I’ll take off your things for you,” turning to Phronsie, who was holding her mother’s gown.
“Oh, no, no,” said Phronsie decidedly, “I want my Mamsie to take off my things.”
Mrs. Brown’s mouth dropped suddenly at the corners, and over her large face spread disappointment of the worst sort.
“I would let Mrs. Brown take off my things, Phronsie,” said Mrs. Pepper.
Phronsie turned her blue eyes wonderingly up to her mother, and seeing that she really meant it, she dropped her hold on the protecting gown and put up her little face for the pink sunbonnet to be untied by the farmer’s wife.
“Now that is the best child that ever lived,” exclaimed Mrs. Brown joyfully. She got down to her fat knees, and began to fumble with the pink calico strings. “It’s jest like havin’ a little girl of my own,” she said, catching her breath.
“Haven’t you any little girl?” asked Phronsie, patiently waiting till the strings that now got themselves into a knot under the nervous fingers, could be untied.
“No,” said Mrs. Brown, and despite all her efforts, the big tears would come, and down they rolled over the large face.