“Oh, dear me!” said Polly, drawing a long breath at the delightful remembrances. “I can’t tell you all the things we used to do there, any more than I can about all the good times we had in the dear old kitchen.”
“There’s no use in asking the Peppers to tell all the good times they had in The Little Brown House,” declared Jasper, with kindling eyes, “because, you see, they just can’t do it. I know, because I’ve been there.”
“Jappy always feels so smart because he’s been at The Little Brown House,” exclaimed Van enviously.
“Well, why shouldn’t I?” retorted Jasper gayly. “It’s something to feel smart over, I can tell you, to go to The Little Brown House.”
“I wish we could ever go there,” said Percy wishfully.
“Well, if you want to hear Polly tell of what we did down in our Orchard, you would better stop talking, and let her begin,” advised Ben.
“I think so too,” laughed Jasper. “I’m as bad as the rest; but when it comes to talking about The Little Brown House, why, I just forget and pitch in. Now do go on, Polly; we beg your pardon;” and he shook his head at the other boys.
“Yes, we do beg your pardon,” Percy and Van made haste to say, seeing that Jasper had said it first.
“All right,” said Polly; “then, I’ll begin straight off, to tell you of one nice time we had down in our Orchard. You see, Mamsie was off at the minister’s house, helping to make over the parlor carpet, and we really hadn’t any work to do. And, for a wonder, Ben was home, because there was no wood for him to chop anywhere; and it was a long, hot summer afternoon. First, we thought we’d go off to the woods, and”—
“And why didn’t you?” broke in Van, with wide eyes for the indifference to the charms of the woods.