“You see, it was long, long ago,” ran on Polly in her gayest fashion; “and almost anything could have happened then—why, Adolphus lived ages before this time when we are living in Badgertown; so he had all sorts of funny people as his neighbors, and they did all kinds of queer things. And the animals all talked just like boys and girls, and everybody understood them. And it was just the strangest world, you can’t think! And that’s the reason that the story is just as it is.”
“Go on,” said Joel quite himself again, and his mouth opened in an expansive smile. “Come on, Dave. Gee-whickety! Polly’s going to tell an elegant buster of a story.”
“Joel, I sha’n’t tell a single thing if you say such dreadful words,” declared Polly sternly, as little David came in, and sat down on the floor by Joel’s side.
“I won’t,” cried Joel in alarm, “say it again ever, Polly.”
“Think how badly Mamsie would feel to hear it,” said Polly reprovingly. “O Joe! how can you?” Down went Joel’s head on her lap,—
“I—won’t again—Polly,” he burst out, trying not to cry. “O Polly! I won’t—I don’t—want—Mamsie to feel bad”—and he burrowed deep in her lap.
“He won’t, Polly,” said little David anxiously, patting Joel’s stubby head with one hand, and with the other pulling Polly’s gown—“I most know he won’t say any more dreadful words.”
“See that you don’t then, Joe,” said Polly; “and both of you boys must remember that it would make Mamsie sick to hear you say any such things. Well, now for the story,—‘The Wonderful [Mince-Pie Boy and the Beasts].’”
“Oh, oh!” cried Davie in a transport, and clasping his hands. Joel sat up quite straight, and held his breath.