"He's always younger," said Joel, gloomily, "and I never sit next to you, Polly."
"Oh!" cried Polly, "yes, you did, Joel Pepper, just the very last time I told stories."
"Well, that was just forever ago," said Joel, still holding David's arm, and showing no disposition to give up.
"Well, I think if Mamsie should come in now," warned Polly, for Mrs. Pepper had gone over to Grandma Bascom's--the old lady having been sick for a day or two--and been caught there by the sudden shower, "and should see you, you'd feel badly, Joey."
At the mention of Mamsie, Joel's grasp on Davie's arm dropped, and he slunk back. Then Ben pulled him into a place next to him, quiet was restored, and Polly was soon launched on one of her wonderful stories, "Mr. Kangaroo and the silly little Duck," and presently they were all so absorbed that no one noticed the sun was shining brightly, until they heard a voice, "Well, I declare, sitting down in the day-time to tell stories!"
Polly sprang to her feet and stared.
"Ugh!" cried Joel, taking one look at their visitor. "I should think," said Miss Jerusha, the minister's sister, in a very tart voice, and raising her black mitts very high, "that children as old as you are could find some work to do, without sitting down to fold your hands and tell good-for-nothing stories."
"They aren't good-for-nothing," shouted Joel. "You haven't heard 'em; they're just beautiful!"
"Be still, Joe," commanded Ben. But Joel broke away from him, and jumped to his feet.
"And Mamsie lets Polly tell us stories," he blurted out fiercely.