“It never’ll do to interrupt ’em when they’re choosin’ caliker gownds,” said the old lady to herself; “s’posin’ they shouldn’t get the right ones, they’d blame me every blessed time they put ’em on. Oh, dear me! I must wait; p’r’aps they’re most through.”
But it was a good three-quarters of an hour before Mr. Simons clicked his scissors through the two pieces of calico, and they were torn off beyond recall. Every minute old Mrs. Beebe had been on the point of rushing home, or rather waddling, and had restrained herself, thinking she heard the supreme moment of decision approaching. “Pa knows where the cold meat, an’ the pies, an’ the bread is,” she comforted herself, when she got nervous sitting on the wooden stool they brought her to wait on. Now she hurried as fast as she could down to the end of the shop.
“How d’ye do, Miss Sally and Miss Belindy Scrannage?” she said in her most polite way, “I want to ask a gret favor;” trying to pull Miss Sally, as the woman of business in the family, aside, that no one might overhear.
“The little King children, Mrs. Jasper King’s, are at my house. Poor things! they must ’a’ walked clear down here, when no one knew it, and”—
“I brung ’em in our gig,” proclaimed Miss Sally in a loud voice. “Oh, my land, an’ good gracious me!”
CHAPTER XIII.
FOUND.
“OH, now,” cried King joyfully, “I can go and play with Elyot and Barby!” He sprang up, and began to skip to the door.
“Oh, no, dear!” said Phronsie gently; “you had three words spelled badly, you know. That column must be right, and then you can go.”
“O sister Phronsie!” King began to whine. And then he grumbled, “I wish there weren’t any lessons in the world. I just hate ’em, I do.”
Joel thrust his head in the doorway. “May I come in?” he asked Phronsie.