“And then David and Joel began to scream how they were going to take the sled Ben had made, out that afternoon, as soon as the ground was covered, and have a fine time coasting; and then Mamsie told us to look around at the clock; and we did, and then our time was up, and we had to fly at our work again.”
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed the Whitney boys with one voice.
“Well, in the middle of the afternoon the snow was pretty deep; it had been falling just as thick and fast as could be, and Joel came stamping in from the woodshed, where he had been cutting kindlings, and he pulled on his mittens, and said, ‘Now, Mamsie, may we?’ and ‘Come on, David’ all at the same time.”
“Just as he says two thing together now,” said Ben, bursting into a laugh, in which all joined at Joel’s expense, until he laughed too.
“But Mamsie shook her head. ‘Not until I’ve gone into the Provision Room and seen how many potatoes, and how much Indian meal we have left, Joey,’ she said. And then off she went, and Joel pounded his heels on the kitchen floor, and slapped his hands in the mittens together, and kept calling on David to hurry and be ready when Mamsie came back. Oh! I remember just as well as can be,—just everything about that afternoon;” and Polly came to a sudden stop, lost in thought.
“Polly Pepper! Polly Pepper!” cried Van, shaking her elbow, “do tell us the story.”
“And did she let Joel and David go coasting?” begged Percy, trying to conceal the eagerness he felt in the recital.
“You’ll see,” said Polly, waking out of her revery. “Well, at last Mamsie came back from the Provision Room, and the very first look that we had of her face we knew that Joel and David couldn’t go.”
“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed the Whitney children, horribly disappointed.
“‘Boys,’ said Mamsie, ‘there isn’t very much Indian meal ahead, and the stock of potatoes is getting low; now I could let you off this afternoon, but it’s wiser not to live from hand to mouth, so we must lay in another supply now.’ And that’s all she said, but she just looked.”