"What are we going to have for breakfast?"
"Same as ever," said his mother; "it can't be Christmas all the time.""I wish 'twas," said little Davie; "forever and ever!""Forever an' ever," echoed little Phronsie, flying up, her cheeks like two pinks, and Seraphina in her arms with her bonnet on upside down.
"Dear, dear," said Polly, pinching Ben to keep still as they tumbled down the little rickety steps to the Provision Room, after breakfast.
The children, content in their treasures, were holding high carnival in the kitchen. "Suppose they should find it out now--I declare Ishould feel most awfully. Isn't it elegant?" she asked, in a subdued whisper, going all around and around the tree, magnificent in its dress of bright red and yellow balls, white festoons, and little candle-ends all ready for lighting. "Oh, Ben, did you lock the door?""Yes," he said. "That's a mouse," he added, as a little rustling noise made Polly stop where she stood back of the tree and prick up her ears in great distress of mind. "'Tis elegant," he said, turning around in admiration, and taldng in the tree which, as Polly said, was quite "gorgeous," and the evergreen branches twisted up on the beams and rafters, and all the other festive arrangements.
"Even Jappy's isn't better, I don't believe!""I wish Jappy was here," said Polly with a small sigh.
"Well, he isn't," said Ben; "come, we must go back into the kitchen, or all the children will be out here. Look your last, Polly;'twon't do to come again till it's time to light up.""Mammy says she'd rather do the lighting up," said Polly. "Had she?" said Ben, in surprise; "oh, I suppose she's afraid we'll set somethin' a-fire. Well, then, we shan't come in till we have it.""I can't bear to go," said Polly, turning reluctantly away; "it's most beautiful--oh, Ben," and she faced him for the five-hundredth time with the question, "is your Santa Claus dress all safe?""Yes," said Ben, "I'll warrant they won't find that in one hurry!
Such a time as we've had to make it!"
"I know it," laughed Polly; "don't that cotton wool look just like bits of fur, Ben?""Yes," said Ben, "and when the flour's shaken over me it'll be Santa himself""We've got to put back the hair into mamsie's cushion the first thing to-morrow," whispered Polly anxiously, "and we mustn't forget it, Bensie.""I want to keep the wig awfully," said Ben. "You did make that just magnificent, Polly!""If you could see yourself," giggled Polly; "did you put it in the straw bed? and are you sure you pulled the ticking over it smooth?""Yes, sir," replied Ben, "sure's my name's Ben Pepper! if you'll only keep them from seeing me when I'm in it till we're ready--that's all I ask.""Well," said Polly a little relieved, "but I hope Joe won't look.""Come on! they're a-comin'!" whispered Ben; "quick!""Polly!" rang a voice dangerously near; so near that Polly, speeding over the stairs to intercept it, nearly fell on her nose.
"Where you been?" asked one.
"Let's have a concert," put in Ben; Polly was so out of breath that she couldn't speak. "Come, now, each take a whistle, and we'll march round and round and see which can make the biggest noise."In the rattle and laughter which this procession made all mystery was forgotten, and the two conspirators began to breathe freer.
Five o'clock! The small ones of the Pepper flock, being pretty well tired out with noise and excitement, all gathered around Polly and Ben, and clamored for a story.
"Do, Polly, do," begged Joel. "It's Christmas, and 'twon't come again for a year.""I can't," said Polly, in such a twitter that she could hardly stand still, and for the first time in her life refusing, "I can't think of a thing.""I will then," said Ben; "we must do something," he whispored to Polly.
"Tell it good," said Joel, settling himself.
So for an hour the small tyrants kept their entertainers well employed.
"Isn't it growing awful dark?" said Davie, rousing himself at last, as Ben paused to take breath.
Polly pinched Ben.
"Mammy's a-goin' to let us know," he whispered in reply. "We must keep on a little longer.""Don't stop," said Joel, lifting his head where he sat on the floor.
"What you whisperin' for, Polly?"
"I'm not," said Polly, glad to think she hadn't spoken.
"Well, do go on, Ben," said Joel, lying down again.
"Polly'll have to finish it," said Ben; "I've got to go upstairs now."So Polly launched out into such an extravagant story that they all, perforce, had to listen.
All this time Mrs. Pepper had been pretty busy in her way. And now she came into the kitchen and set down her candle on the table. "Children," she said. Everybody turned and looked at her--her tone was so strange; and when they saw her dark eyes shining with such a new light, little Davie skipped right out into the middle of the room. "What's the matter, mammy?""You may all come into the Provision Room," said she.
"What for?" shouted Joel, in amazement; while the others jumped to their feet, and stood staring.
Polly flew around like a general, arranging her forces. "Let's march there," said she; "Phronsie, you take hold of Davie's hand, and go first.""I'm goin' first," announced Joel, squeezing up past Polly. "No, you mustn't, Joe," said Polly decidedly; "Phronsie and David are the youngest.""They're always the youngest," said Joel, falling back with Polly to the rear.
