“Oh!” said the Whitney boys.
“Yes; well, we were all three running along, Mister Fox just behind, when Joel and David, I mean the little teenty wee foxes, came racing over the grass. ‘O Polly Pepper!’ they screamed; ‘Come—come!’ and then they turned and flew back. I can tell you we all ran then!”
“What was it? oh, what was it?” screamed Percy and Van and Little Dick together.
“Why, there on the stone lay—what do you think?—a big orange, and a bag of peanuts!”
“Oh, dear me!” cried all the Whitney boys, tumbling backward in dreadful disappointment. “Is that all?” gasped Percy.
“All?” repeated Polly. “Why, you can’t think how perfectly splendid it was to see that big orange, as yellow as gold, and that magnificent bag of peanuts, standing there on that stone table. Why it seemed as if they must have dropped right down from the little puffy white clouds sailing above our heads, for we couldn’t imagine where they came from. And we never thought of finishing up our play; but the Little White Rabbit hopped out of her white skin, and Mister Fox tumbled out of his old fur rug; and it took us all the rest of the afternoon to cut and divide that splendid, big, yellow orange, and to count out those magnificent peanuts, and to give them all around, except the time it took to eat them.”
“That was best!” exclaimed Joel, smacking his lips.
“And we saved some for Mamsie,” said little Davie; “didn’t we, Polly?”
“Why, of course,” said Polly; “we all saved the best for her.”
“And Polly kept saying ‘I do wish we knew where they came from,’ every minute or so,” said Ben.