Her work fell down for a minute, as he dashed off—and a shadow swept across her face; but it was gone as quickly, and the needle flew all the faster.
Joel rushed up to the two in the corner. “We are going to have butter to-morrow, Polly Pepper,” he announced.
“Nonsense!” exclaimed Ben, pulling himself out of his gloom. “You’ve been dreaming, Joe.”
“I haven’t, either,” retorted Joel indignantly. “Mamsie said so.” He darted across the kitchen. “Didn’t you, Mamsie?” he cried, plunging up to her chair. “Ben says I’ve been dreaming.”
“Didn’t I do what, Joel?”
“Didn’t you say you were going to give us butter to-morrow to eat in the woods?”
“I certainly did, Joey,” said Mrs. Pepper. She looked over his head and nodded to the three in the corner. “Come over here, children. Wait a minute; Phronsie.”
Phronsie, who had been undressing Seraphina for bed, always a slow process, laid the rag doll on a chair, and came up wonderingly to her mother’s knee.
“Now it’s just this way,” began Mrs. Pepper, looking at them all, “to-morrow must be the very happiest day of the whole year. And in order to get ready for it and make it happy—why, we must all begin to-night. Now, Joel and Davie, you’d better run off to bed, so that you can hop up bright and early in the morning.”
“I don’t want to,” Joel grumbled. But seeing his mother’s face, he finished, “All right—come on, Dave.” Then he ran back when half-way up the loft stairs. “Please spread it thick, Mamsie,” he begged.