“Oh, then he ain’t a Pepper?”
“No. Well, children,” Mrs. Pepper got up to her feet, “you are all ready now, aren’t you? We better begin, for we want as much time as we can spare to see the animals, you know.”
At mention of the “animals” there was great excitement, Joel beating his hands together and shouting, “Let’s begin—let’s begin!”
“Oh, Mamsie, please sit here,” cried Polly, patting one end of the table-cloth, “and Mrs.—”
“Jones,” said Davie, coming to the rescue, “that’s Mrs. Jones,” and he held out a hand to help the little old woman up from the grass.
“Jones I am—but I ain’t no Missis,” said the little old woman, getting up stiffly to her feet. “My! but I feel like a wooden-jointed doll! I’m Susannah Jones—that’s th’ handle to my name. Well, where’ll I set?”
“Right next to Mamsie,” said Polly.
Miss Susannah Jones let her pale eyes rove all around the circle. “What?” she said in a puzzled way. “Where?”
“Why, here,” said Polly, with a little laugh, and leading her to Mrs. Pepper. “This is Mamsie,” and she laughed again.
Miss Susannah opened her thin lips. She was just about to say, “Well, of all the queer names, that is!” when, glancing at Davie’s face, she thought better of it. And besides it was no worse than Pepper. So she sat down and the feast began.