“Oh! I know,” declared Joel in an important way, quite delighted to show Van his superior knowledge; “it was like Spot Pond, Polly, over by Badgertown woods.”
“Yes,” said Polly with shining eyes, “it was, Joel, just like dear old Spot Pond by Badgertown woods;” and she leaned her cheeks on her two hands and her elbows on the table, lost in delightful reminiscence over Joel’s words.
Van got out of his chair, and slipping away from the reach of Jasper’s fingers, he plucked Polly’s sleeve. “You said the queer little old man and the green umbrella came to a big place just like Spot Pond,” he whispered in her ear.
“What—oh!” said Polly, lifting her head up suddenly. “Yes, so I did. ‘Well now,’ said the poor little queer old man to himself, ‘I shall surely stop; I am so glad to see this water, for I am really almost run to death.’ But the green umbrella made him hop clear across the pond; and there he was on the other side, running for dear life through a brambly wood, and up the side of a mountain.”
Van ran back to his seat, hugging himself joyfully at this entrancing stage of the story. “Now, there were some people living on the top of that mountain,” said Polly quite impressively, “who were very funny people indeed. They were thin and tall—oh! just as thin as bean-poles, and as high; and when they went out they always pulled on seven-league boots, and”—
“What are those boots, Polly?” asked Phronsie quickly.
“Oh! let me tell her,” cried Van eagerly, delighted to think there was something he could show off in to advantage. “I know; my fairy book tells all about it.”
“Well, I shall tell,” declared Percy for the same reason. “You see, Phronsie”—
“No, indeed you shall not,” exclaimed Van in a dudgeon; and forgetting all about Polly Pepper being there, “I began first;” and deserting his chair again, he ran over to Phronsie’s side, and tried to take her hand; but she kept it folded over the other one in her lap, and looked gravely at him.