Phronsie put one soft little hand on Mother Pepper’s lap, and patted it.
“And she had cake,” said Joel; “Mamsie’s chair, and a piece of cake too.”
“Yes, there was a piece that had been given Mamsie, and we were saving it up for a treat that we were to have had that very night; but when Phronsie got hurt, why, of course she must have it. Well, I thought Grandma Bascom never would find that court-plaster. She wanted so to hear all about how Phronsie got hurt in the first place, and then she didn’t know where she had put the court-plaster; and, oh, dear me! I thought I should fly, to think of poor Phronsie curled up in the big chair waiting for me; but at last Grandma found it in the cupboard drawer; and she cut off a piece, and then it wasn’t but a minute or two and the cut was stuck together and tied up in an old handkerchief, and Phronsie’s pink apron was taken off, and she had a clean one on, and I brushed her curls, and everything was getting all right again; and then in popped Ben!”
“And Ben whistled ‘Whew!’” said little Davie, “just as loud as he could. Polly told us he did.”
“And they both kissed Phronsie all around again, and Ben kissed her the most, because he hadn’t been there at the first,” said Joel; “Polly told us—oh! and then Polly said”—
“Oh! let me tell,” begged David in great excitement.
“No, I began first,” said Joel; “I want to myself, Dave.”
“Yes, he did begin first, Davie,” said Polly, smiling into his little eager face. “Joel ought to tell.” So Joel began again triumphantly, in a loud voice, “Well, Polly said—oh! I’d rather Dave told—you may,” he broke off suddenly, and looking over at David.
“No,” said Davie. “You began first; you tell”—
“But Joel wants you to, Davie,” said Polly, smiling over at Joel in a way to make the color fly up on his round cheeks in his delight, “so I would.”