“For I never shall forget, Jasper,” she said as they hurried along, “how good Grandma was the day Phronsie hurt her toe. Oh, that horrible old ‘receet’ of Mirandy’s wedding-cake! I thought it would kill me to wait for it. Dear, dear,” laughed Polly, “how we do remember, don’t we, Jasper, things we used to do when we were children?”
“I’m sure I never want to forget what we did in the little brown house,” said Jasper. “Well, Grandma was always good, I remember, bringing raisins and all that. Now, Polly, we must tell her every single bit of Joel’s last letter; for she’ll question us up just as closely, you may be sure.”
“We’ve come out to dinner, Polly,” said Alexia.
“I know it,” said Polly, hanging to his arm; “and Joel thinks as much of Grandma as she does of him. It’s so nice of him, Jappy, isn’t it?”
“Oh, yes, indeed!” said Jasper, nodding briskly; “for no matter how tired Joe is,—and he must get awfully used up sometimes, Polly, with that big parish of his,—he’s always doing something for her. It was fine for him to buy her that big easy-chair with the first money he had saved up after he paid father back for his education.”
“Dear, beautiful old Joel!” cried Polly, with shining eyes.
“How upset father was,” exclaimed Jasper, in a reminiscent mood, “when Joe made him take that money back. I declare, Polly, I never saw him so upset in all my life!”
“It was right for Joel to make him,” said Polly stoutly.
“Yes, I know it. But Father had so set his mind on doing it for Joe.”