"Well, you'll have to work when you're a boy, then," said Mrs. Pepper, sensibly. "Riches don't tumble into lazy folks' laps."
"Then I'm goin' to work right straight off," cried Joel, springing away on nimble feet. "Come on, Dave, and help pick those old rocks."
But a terrible shower came on, and drove them all within doors, and it grew so dark that Polly couldn't see to sew. So the three youngest children gathered around her and clamored for a story.
"Yes," said Polly, "I will. Let's get down on the floor in a ring." So they all sat down in the middle of the kitchen floor, after some delay, caused by Joel's vociferous demand to sit next to Polly.
"Phronsie must be one side," said Polly, "of course."
"Yes, I must, Joey," said Phronsie, cuddling up closer yet to Polly.
"Well, the other side, then," said Joel, struggling to slip in between Polly and little David, and twitching Davie's arm.
"Stop, Joe, and sit down over here," cried Ben, seizing him by the jacket, "else you shan't sit anywhere."
"Ow!" howled Joel, pulling smartly at David.
"Davie got here first," said Polly, "and he's younger. How can you, Joe?" she added reproachfully.