“Mamsie, do you mind if I tell them a story?” asked Polly, looking at them all.
“No, indeed,” cried Mrs. Pepper cheerily. “Just the very thing, Polly. I’m glad you thought of it. I sh’d like to hear it too, myself.”
“Would you, Mamsie?” cried Polly, quite delighted.
“Yes, indeed. Seems as if my needle would go in and out faster if I could hear something meanwhile,” replied Mother Pepper.
So Polly, feeling quite important at being about to tell a story that Mother Pepper was to listen to, gathered the three children in a knot about her on the floor ready to begin.
“I wish Ben was here,” began Joel.
“It’s good Ben has wood to saw at Mr. Blodgett’s,” spoke up Mrs. Pepper quickly. “He’s in that nice tight woodshed, so the rain won’t hurt him: and just think, children, of the money he’ll bring home.”
Polly couldn’t help but give a little sigh. How perfectly lovely it would be if she weren’t a girl, but could go off and earn money just like Ben to keep the little brown house going! But Mother Pepper didn’t hear the sigh, it was such a tiny one, as Polly saw by glancing over at her. And so away flew the story-teller as fast as she could, on her entertainment.