“But Joey couldn’t take it to keep,” declared Polly. “You know he really couldn’t, Jasper.”
“Of course not,” said Jasper quickly. “But what we should have done without Phronsie to make the peace between them, I don’t know. Well, here we are.”
“See here,” cried Alexia, Mrs. Higby’s red plaid apron working all up her long figure, as she had tied it by the strings around her neck, “if somebody doesn’t go over and call Polly Pepper home, why I’ll just go myself.” She brandished the big wooden spoon, a few drops of molasses trailing off over the floor.
“I suppose that is meant for me,” said Pickering, placidly eating the big piece he ought to have been pulling, “as I’m the only one she orders round.”
“Horrors!” cried Alexia, glancing along the tip of the spoon, “just see the mischief I’ve done! Now the Peppers won’t ever let me in this kitchen again.”
“I’ll wipe it up,” said Elyot, running over to her, with sticky hands, and face streaked with molasses.
“Oh!” exclaimed Alexia with a grimace, and edging away. “Oh, my goodness, me! and see my husband eating candy like a little pig, and me in this dreadful scrape.”
“I wish I was your husband,” said little Elyot, getting down on his knees; and, seizing the first thing he could find, which proved to be a fine damask napkin, he began to vigorously mop the floor.
“Mercy me! what have you got?” cried Alexia, her sharp eyes peering at him. “Oh! give it to me.” She seized it from his hand, and threw down the spoon. “Come along, do,” and she hauled him out into the entry. “It’s one of Polly Pepper’s bestest napkins; we brought it over on the cake-plate. Now we must just douse it into a pail of water; but goodness knows where that is.”