“But th’ boy—why, he’d come over an’ play with th’ Pepper childern ev’ry chance he got. You see th’ father didn’t care about havin’ young folks round, so Jasper got lonely.”
“Jasper?” interrupted the big woman.
“Yes, that was th’ boy’s name—Jasper King.”
“Oh! Well, go on.”
“He got lonely, I was sayin’, with nobody but his big dog for comp’ny, so over he’d come to Badgertown. You just ought to hear what times they had in th’ little brown house.”
Here Mrs. Beebe laughed. The little shoemaker laid down his work, and joined, both of them shaking their fat sides at the remembrance.
“I’ve heerd Polly tell about them times—I tell you, she’s the one to set off a story good,” chuckled old Mr. Beebe, “ain’t she now, Ma?”
“You’d ought to have seen ’em as I seen ’em—Pa an’ me both did,” said the shoemaker’s wife, “that boy with one o’ Mis Pepper’s big check apuns on tied around his neck, an’ rollin’ out bits o’ dough—an’ then stickin’ ’em into th’ old stove. That was before Dr. Fisher give ’em th’ new stove—an’ him as rich as Crocus.”
“Dr. Fisher rich!” cried Mrs. Goodsell, raising both hands. “Why, he’s as poor as Job’s turkey, an’ with them two old-maid sisters on his hands. Now I know you’ve ben stuffin’ me right along, Mis Beebe,” she added, in an injured tone.
“Oh, I didn’t mean Dr. Fisher was rich, I said th’ boy,” cried Mrs. Beebe, in a loud voice.