“Yes,” said Ben, drawing a long breath, “on the shoe went just as nice, and he buttoned it up as snug as could be; and he said, ‘But perhaps you’ll object to ’em, ’cause they’re red-topped.’ Just think of that!”
The Whitney boys screamed right out at this stage of affairs, and even Jasper shared in the general excitement, until Phronsie’s red-topped shoes seemed to be the same little specks of color before their eyes as when she danced around the old kitchen to show them to Mrs. Pepper.
“Well, now,” said old Mr. King at last, in a lull, “we must let Polly tell the rest of it. Go on, Polly my girl, what next?”
“Well, then Phronsie had to get off from the little wooden chair old Mr. Beebe made her sit down in, and stamp in the red-topped shoes real hard, to see if they really were a good fit; and then I paid him out of the money in Mamsie’s purse, and he rolled up the old ones in a newspaper; and then he gave her—don’t you think—the most beautiful button-hook—oh! you can’t think, it shone just like silver, and—”
“And was it silver?” demanded Van, who, seeing the story on the wane, was jealous of every bit of statistic by which to spin it out; “was it really silver, Polly Pepper?”
“Sh—be still, Van,” said Jasper with a little nudge; “Polly cannot possibly get on if you interrupt her all the time.”
“No, it wasn’t really and truly silver,” said Polly, with a bright smile for Jasper; “but it was just as good. Oh! and then dear old Mrs. Beebe gave us another doughnut apiece out of the big stone pot; and then we came out of the shop, and climbed into the old green wagon and drove home.”
“And I had my new shoes on, Grandpapa,” announced Phronsie, turning to the old gentleman as if a wholly new fact were to be stated; “and they were red-topped, they were!”
“Yes, she kept sticking her feet out from under the shawl Mamsie had told me to tuck her up in every minute, to be sure the shoes were really there,” laughed Polly. “Oh, dear! such a time as I had to get her home, and it was most night too.”