"People always are glad when their work is finished," said Mrs. Pepper, breaking off a fresh needleful of thread.
"Shall you be glad, Mamsie?" suddenly asked Joel, who never could get over the idea that it was a perfect delight to his mother to sit and sew.
"Of course she will," cried Polly, unguardedly. "Mamsie's tired to death sewing and working all the time."
Little David's face grew very long, and he turned away, hoping no one would see him cry. Joel burst into a loud fit of sobbing.
"I think--it's--too--too bad," he blubbered, covering his face with his arm, "that Mamsie has--has--to sew and work--all the time."
"Now you see, Polly," said Mrs. Pepper, putting aside her work and drawing Joel on her lap, "what mischief a few words can do. There, there, Joel, don't cry," and she patted his black hair. "Mother's glad to work for her children, and she gets rested when they're good." But Joel sobbed on, and she had to repeat it many times before he would wipe his tears, and be comforted. Little Davie drew near silently, to hear what she said.
Phronsie, in the bedroom, saw Joel in Mamsie's lap, and Davie hanging over her chair, and she pattered across the kitchen floor. "Take me, too, do Mamsie," holding out her arms.
"So Mamsie will," cried Mrs. Pepper, heartily, and drawing her up to sit next to Joel, on her lap. When little Davie saw that, "I wish there was room," he said softly, "to hold me, too, Mamsie."
"Well, there is," said Mother Pepper, opening her arms, "and for Polly, too," for she saw Polly's head drooping from her reproof.
"Oh, Mamsie!" cried Polly, running over to her, to get within the good arms, though she couldn't sit on her lap, of course, as there were three little Peppers there already; "I'm sorry I spoke, but I didn't think."