“O dear!” groaned Joel, holding his hands tightly together, his black eyes on the peppermint drops.
It took some time in this slow way for Phronsie to get them all out. She hummed in a soft little voice as she drew them forth, one by one, and laid them in Polly’s lap. There were nine—five white ones, and four pink ones.
“Aren’t there any more?” cried Joel. “Let me shake the bag—maybe there’s another one.”
But all the vigorous shaking that Joel administered couldn’t produce another peppermint drop.
“I shall give Mamsie this one,” said Phronsie, picking up one of the pink drops and running over to Mrs. Pepper’s chair. “Please open your mouth, Mamsie.”
And the pink peppermint being dropped into Mother Pepper’s mouth, Phronsie ran back in great satisfaction.
“Now me,” cried Joel, sitting back on his heels, and holding out his hands.
“Oh, Joey, Ben ought to have one saved for him,” said Polly reprovingly.
“I shall give Bensie this one,” said Phronsie, patting another pink drop.
“Ben wouldn’t care,” began Joel. Then he stopped, seeing Polly’s brown eyes.