“Let Phronsie tell,” said Joel, “that’s best. Go on, Phron; tell what Polly said.”
“She said,” began Phronsie, “right in Bensie’s ear, she told me so, that I ought to have my new shoes. Yes, she did”—
“Just think of that!” exclaimed old Mr. King, who hadn’t spoken a word, but had sat quite still, holding Phronsie cuddled up in his arms. “I should say so too; it was just the time for those new shoes to be bought.”
“But Polly didn’t tell me then,” said Phronsie, twisting around to look into his face; “she whispered to Bensie, and he whispered in her ear, and they told me to wait.”
“Just think of that,” said Grandpapa, patting her small hand, as it lay confidingly in his big palm.
“Yes,” said Phronsie, “they did; and Polly said, ‘Sh, sh! if Mamsie will only say yes.’”
“Well, and at dinner-time in flew Joel and Davie hungry as bears—they were always hungry,” said Polly, laughing, “and the bread was not done, and”—
“And we had to eat the old crusts in the pail; we always had to,” grumbled Joel.
“And Joel said he could have rolled down the stairs without getting hurt,” said David; “and he was going to take the bread-knife, and try it.”