“Why, it’s a pincushion!” said Mother.
“What a beastly shame!” said Jack.
“Be quiet, Jack. It’s a very pretty one,” Mother added consolingly.
“Funny shape, isn’t it?” queried Father.
“It’s—let me see—why, it’s the shape of a—what do you call those things?—pumpkins. It’s shaped like a pumpkin,” answered Mother.
“But it’s grey,” objected Father. “Why didn’t they make it yellow or green while they were about it?”
“I suppose Aunt Phœbe thought grey would keep clean longer,” said Jack: “that’s why she chose it.”
Had Aunt Phœbe known when she bought ‘this useful little thing’ what it Really Was—could she have foreseen any of the mysterious happenings that were to follow the arrival of her birthday present—she would have preferred to send her niece half a dozen of the most jingly silver bangles ever made; for she disapproved of adventures in any shape or form, even more than she disapproved of bangles. Yet it was entirely through Aunt Phœbe that Jack and Molly took part in the adventure of the Grey Pumpkin at all.