Part 7 (2/2)

”Hey!” said the little man, spinning round; ”that dollar's the Lord's!”

Mrs. Pepper looked bewildered, and still sat holding it out. ”And the Lord has given it to you to take care of these children with; see that you do it.” And without another word he was gone.

”Wasn't he good, mammy?” asked Polly, after the first surprise was over.

”I'm sure he was,” said Mrs. Pepper. ”Well, tie it up again, Polly, tie it up tight; we shall want it, I'm sure,” sighing at her little sick girl.

”Mayn't I take Phronsie, ma?” asked Polly.

”No, no,” said Phronsie. She had got mammy, and she meant to improve the privilege.

”What is 'measles' anyway, mammy?” asked Polly, sitting down on the floor at their feet.

”Oh, 'tis something children always have,” replied Mrs. Pepper; ”but I'm sure I hoped it wouldn't come just yet.”

”I sha'n't have it,” said Polly, decisively; ”I know I sha'n't! nor Ben--nor Joe--nor--nor Davie--I guess,” she added, hesitatingly, for Davie was the delicate one of the family; at least not nearly so strong as the others.

Mrs. Pepper looked at her anxiously; but Polly seemed as bright and healthy as ever, as she jumped up and ran to put the kettle on the stove.

”What'll the boys say, I wonder!” she thought to herself, feeling quite important that they really had sickness in the house. As long as Phronsie wasn't dangerous, it seemed quite like rich folks; and she forgot the toil, and the grind of poverty. She looked out from time to time as she pa.s.sed the window, but no boys came.

”I'll put her in bed, Polly,” said Mrs. Pepper, in a whisper, as Phronsie closed her eyes and breathed regularly.

”And then will you have your dinner, ma?”

”Yes,” said Mrs. Pepper, ”I don't care--if the boys come.”

”The boys'll never come,” said Polly, impatiently; ”I don't believe--why! here they are now!”

”Oh, dear,” said Joel, coming in crossly, ”I'm so hungry--oh--b.u.t.ter!

where'd you get it? I thought we never should get here!”

”I thought so too,” said Polly. ”Hus.h.!.+ why, where's Ben?”

”He's just back,” began Joel, commencing to eat, ”and Davie; something is the matter with Ben--he says he feels funny.”

”Something the matter with Ben!” repeated Polly. She dropped the cup she held, which broke in a dozen pieces.

”Oh, whocky!” cried Joel; ”see what you've done, Polly Pepper!”

But Polly didn't hear; over the big, flat door-stone she sped, and met Ben with little David, coming in the gate. His face was just like Phronsie's! And with a cold, heavy feeling at her heart, Polly realized that this was no play.

”Oh, Ben!” she cried, flinging her arms around his neck, and bursting into tears; ”don't! please--I wish you wouldn't; Phronsie's got 'em, and that's enough!”

”Got what?” asked Ben, while Davie's eyes grew to their widest proportions.

”Oh, measles!” cried Polly, bursting out afresh; ”the hate-fullest, horridest measles! and now you're taken!”

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