“And did he?” cried Joel, absorbed in interest.
“No, he said, ‘Oh, never! No Nutcracker has ever lived lower down in the world than we are! and I can’t do it, my dear!’”
“That was bad of him,” exploded Joel with very red cheeks; “bad, mean old man not to do as Mrs. Nutcracker wanted him to do. Wasn’t he, Polly?”
“Well, you’ll see,” said Polly, hurrying along as fast as she could. “And the little Nutcrackerses kept jumping and tumbling out of the house at a great rate, until one day something very dreadful happened.”
“Tell about it,” cried Joel, hugely pleased.
“Yes, I’m going to. Well, Pa Nutcracker had gone off about his business, and Mrs. Nutcracker was doing the work, when suddenly there was a loud noise down on the ground, and two or three of the little Nutcrackerses jumped out to the door, and leaned over, and said they were going down to see what it was, and then away they rushed with a hop, skip, and a jump. And six of them, brothers and sisters, said they were going; and they were in such a hurry they didn’t look straight before them, and they tumbled through the air—whiz—whiz”—
“Did they come on their heads?” cried Joel excitedly.
“No; they stuck their feet out, and they came right down on them,” said Polly, “just as good as could be. So you see they weren’t hurt a bit. Well, and then as Mrs. Nutcracker was all alone, why she thought she might as well go too. So she went down. And there was the Nutcracker house left all by itself. Then came the dreadful thing.”
“What was it?” asked Joel fearfully, and snuggling closer to Polly.