“Mamsie,” David ran over to her, as the big green door banged, “I’m not tired. Please let me help about things.”
“You must be tired, Davie,” Mrs. Pepper beamed affectionately at him, “and it won’t do for you to run your legs off for I depend so much on you.”
David looked down at his legs. Then he straightened up. “Do you really depend on me, Mamsie?” and the color ran all over his little cheeks.
“Indeed I do,” said Mother Pepper heartily. Then she glanced up at the clock. “Polly and Phronsie ought to be here.”
“They’re coming,” shouted Davie gleefully, and rushing to the big green door, he swung it wide. In jumped Joel, swinging the molasses jug, and after him Polly and Phronsie.
“Whoop!” screamed Joel, “isn’t dinner ready? We’re going to have fried potatoes,” he announced to Polly.
“Fried potatoes!” exclaimed Polly in astonishment. Then she ran over to the old stove. “Oh, Mamsie, fried potatoes!” wrinkling up her nose at the sizzling in the old frying-pan.
“I like it,” said Phronsie, clutching a little paper bag; “let me smell it, Polly, do!” standing on her tiptoes.
“I thought Ben was coming home to dinner, and he does so like fried potatoes,” said Mrs. Pepper in a low voice, as she turned the slices.
“Isn’t Ben coming to dinner?” asked Polly.