phronsie was crying bitterly. everything had gone wrong in the little brown house that morning. in the first place, it was snowing,—not a cheery, white fluffy shower, but a sour, comfortless downpour just on the edge of becoming a drizzling rain, that sent the chill in between the clapboards and under the old door-sill, and made polly run every few minutes to put more wood in the stove. and as luck would have it, this was the very morning when the stock in the wood-box ran low. ben, just before he hurried off to work, told joel to be sure and fill it up, but joel, frantic with delight at the approach of what he persisted in calling a snow-storm, had rushed off with little davie, dragging their home-made sled of rough boards merrily after them, and forgot all about it.
“dear me!” exclaimed polly, in vexation, as she poked the fire up and put on a fresh stick;[135] “there are only two more left,” with an anxious glance into the big box back of the stove.
“i’m so cold,” said phronsie, laying seraphina down on the floor and coming up to polly, and she held up her fat little hands.
“goodness me, so you are, pet,” said polly, feeling of them in great concern; “well, you must have on mamsie’s shawl.”
so polly ran into the bedroom, phronsie following quickly, and humming: “i must have on mamsie’s shawl. yes, i am, polly, so cold”—in great glee at the mere mention of mamsie’s shawl.
“now pin it,” she said, standing on tiptoe as polly got it out of the bureau drawer. it was a little brown and black plaid woollen one that the parson’s wife had given mrs. pepper to lay over her shoulders when she sat by the west window to sew on cold winter days. so polly took one of the biggest pins sticking up in the red-flannel cushion on the top of the bureau and drew the little shawl together, making it fast around phronsie’s neck.
“there, now, pet,” she said, giving her a kiss, “mr. jack frost will have to go away, for you’ve got on mamsie’s shawl.”
[136]“mr. jack frost will have to go away, for i’ve got on mamsie’s shawl,” echoed phronsie, and folding her arms closely together so she could hug the little shawl the tighter, she ran out into the kitchen after polly, who was now busy over the stove again.
“misery me—now there’s only one stick left.” polly was cramming in some wood, and she set the cover back in a great hurry. “now i’ve got to go out to the woodpile and get some more. you keep away from the door, phronsie; i’ll be back in a minute.” and she threw on her sack and hood and dashed out of doors.
but she didn’t come back, and it seemed to phronsie it was too long to expect any one to wait. she couldn’t see the woodpile from the window, although she plastered her little face against it and tried as hard as she could to find out what polly was doing.
“i must get polly,” at last she decided, so she went over to the door and opened it, huddling up into mamsie’s little shawl as the wet, clinging snow struck against her.
but polly was nowhere to be seen, and phronsie, stumbling over to the woodpile and peeping behind it, couldn’t find her anywhere.
[137]“polly—polly,” she called in a grieved little voice, but there wasn’t a sound except the soft dropping of the wet snow that was almost like rain. and presently phronsie’s tears were falling fast and she could hardly see because of them.
“well—well!” it was doctor fisher coming around the side of the little brown house because he had been to the big green door and there was nobody to say “come in.” he had a bag in his hand that he was carrying carefully. “child, what are you doing out here?” he cried, in astonishment.
“polly isn’t anywhere,” wailed phronsie, running over to him with the tears streaming down her face.
“polly isn’t anywhere!” repeated the little doctor in astonishment. “take care, child,” holding the bag at arm’s length in one hand, while he gathered phronsie within his other arm. “oh, yes, she is. we’ll find her just in one minute. now, then, i must get you into the house.”
“will you find polly?” cried phronsie, looking up through her tears, as the little doctor, the bag in one hand, hurried her along with the other.
“yes, sir—ee!” declared doctor fisher, nodding so violently that his big spectacles tumbled[138] down to the end of his nose; “wait a minute.” he released phronsie and set them straight. “now, then, polly!” he called in a loud voice.
but of course there wasn’t any polly to answer, and phronsie was just going to burst into another wail, when a funny little noise struck her ear and she paused in astonishment.
“i don’t suppose you know what i’ve got in this bag,” said doctor fisher, artfully, as he set it on the floor, then got down on his knees beside it.
but phronsie couldn’t get her mind off from polly, so she turned a sorrowful little face to the window.
“please get polly,” she begged.
“yes, yes, all in good time,” responded the little doctor in a cheery fashion, as if it were the easiest thing in all the world to get polly; “but you must see what is in my bag first, because, you see, i don’t know what will happen if i don’t let her out soon. she may die,” said the little doctor in an awful whisper, as he untied the bag, put in his long fingers and drew carefully out a fluffy white kitten, who blinked on being drawn out to the light, and then said very indignantly, “fuff—siss!”
“there—there!” exclaimed the little doctor, holding the fluffy little ball very gingerly, with a[139] great regard for possible claws, while phronsie squealed with delight. “oh, give her to me—i want her!” holding out both hands from beneath mamsie’s little plaid shawl.
“well, you shall have her, for i brought her to you,” said doctor fisher, depositing the fluffy little ball in phronsie’s arms. “take care, now, or she may scratch you. such a piece of work as i had to get her here.”
“fuff—siss!” said the little white kitten again, just as there was a rattle at the door, and polly came in quite slowly, because her arms were full of wood, and she couldn’t walk fast.
“oh, polly!” screamed phronsie, “you’ve come back!” and she hurried over to her, kitten and all, the little doctor following quickly.
“see—see!” said phronsie, dreadfully excited, and holding up the fluffy white ball that was spitting dreadfully, while little doctor fisher precipitately seized every bit of the wood out of polly’s arms and dumped it in the big wood-box back of the stove.
“now, says i,” he exclaimed, with a quick eye at the stove, “i guess some of those sticks want to go in here.” and in a minute he had the cover off, and before long the wood was crackling merrily[140] away, and polly was rubbing her cold hands together, thinking how good it was to be in such a nice warm place.
“and so you’ve been out working at the woodpile,” said the little doctor, with a keen glance at her red cheeks.
“oh, i didn’t get it at the woodpile,” said polly, flinging off her hood. “isn’t that the dearest little kitten in all this world!” she cried, rapturously.
“you didn’t get it at the woodpile!” said doctor fisher, straightening up to look at her in astonishment. “where in the world, polly—” he began.
“oh, grandma bascom gave it to me,” said polly, with a little laugh. “you see ben split her wood all up—a whole lot of it—for her, and ours is too big, and i couldn’t find the hatchet, and—”
“no, no, i should think not,” assented the little doctor fisher, hastily. “well, now, you are all right, polly,” with a glance at the stove.
“we’re all right,” said polly, with a merry little laugh and skipping around the kitchen, phronsie huddling up the white fluffy kitten tightly, and flying after her.
[141]“and if you are a good girl,” said the little doctor, opening the door and looking back at phronsie, “why, then the little white cat shall stay with you always.”
“the little white cat shall stay with me always,—he said so,” declared phronsie, trying to keep up with polly’s flying steps.
“yes; isn’t he good to bring you that dear sweet kitty!” exclaimed polly, seizing it to give it a good hug, whereat the small fluffy ball said “fuff—siss!” again very loudly.
“o dear me!” exclaimed polly, drawing back; “i didn’t hurt you, you funny little thing, you; you needn’t scream at me so.”
“she’s only talking, polly,” said phronsie, anxiously watching polly’s face.
“talking?” said polly, with a little laugh; “well, never mind, i guess she won’t hurt me, pet.”
“she won’t hurt you, polly,” said phronsie, shaking her yellow hair positively; “i won’t let her.”
“and did you ever see such a nice place as this!” said polly, glancing approvingly around the old kitchen and over to the stove where little winks of the bright fire could be seen, and the wood was[142] crackling away as hard as it could. “phronsie, i don’t believe ever anybody had such a dear little brown house as this is—ever in all this world!”
“it’s my little brown house,” said phronsie, coming to a sudden stop and looking all about her very intently, “and i shall live here forever.”
“well, come on,” said polly, every nerve tingling for another spin, she was just beginning to feel so nice and warm and cosey, and holding out her hands. so phronsie, although she would have preferred to sit quietly and play with her new treasure, hugged it up tighter to her little bosom and let polly dance her about to her heart’s desire, the little white cat spitting and mewing her discontent, until the two children, tired out, sat down, flushed and panting, to rest.
and just at that moment the door opened and in plunged little doctor fisher, his spectacles gleaming behind a big armful of wood.
“oh—oh!” cried polly and phronsie together, as they rushed across the kitchen to him.
“it was such good fun!” declared the little doctor, depositing the big armful with a rattle and a clatter in the wood-box. his eyes sparkled, and a smile of great satisfaction spread all over his face. “you can’t think!”
[143]“you’ve split up all that wood!” exclaimed polly, in dismay, going back of the stove to peer into the big box; “and where did you find the hatchet?” rushing back to him.
“oh, that’s telling,” laughed doctor fisher.
“and ben won’t like it, to have you do this, because you have to work so hard to cure sick folks,” said polly, with a very flushed face.
“ben isn’t to know anything about it,” retorted doctor fisher.
“he would have filled it,” began polly, and the rosy color flew all over her face deeper yet, “only—” and then she stopped suddenly at the thought that she would have to tell about joel.
“ben’s all right,” declared the little doctor, with emphasis. “now, polly, don’t think anything more about it.”
“you see, joel—” and polly clasped her hands. she had almost let it out, for ben mustn’t be blamed unjustly—o dear, what could she do!
“and because joel ran off and forgot to fill the box,” said little doctor fisher, gayly, “is that any reason, i should like to know, why i can’t have the fun of splitting up a few sticks? well, phronsie—” and he whirled around to her;[144] “don’t you want to know where i got that little white cat for you, before i go, hey?”
“she’s my little white cat,” declared phronsie, too excited to think of anything except that the kitten was really hers.
“yes, i know,” doctor fisher nodded at her; “well, now, i’m going to tell you how i got her. polly, you come over and hear it, too.”
so polly obediently went over. “oh, you’ve been so good, dear doctor fisher; you’ve saved my eyes, and given me my stove, and now you’ve brought phronsie a little white cat.” polly clasped her hands tightly together. oh, if she could only do something for him!
“well, now, let’s hear how i got that little white cat,” said doctor fisher, briskly. he never could bear to be thanked, but he was very much gratified, all the same, at polly’s words. “you couldn’t guess, children,” he cried, with great animation.
“phronsie,” said polly, “he’s going to tell how he got your little white cat.”
at that phronsie was greatly excited, and she piped out, “oh, tell me!”
“why, i didn’t get her at all,” said doctor fisher.
[145]“you didn’t get her at all—” repeated polly, in amazement.
“no,” the little doctor burst into a laugh at her face; “that is, i didn’t go after her. she came to me.”
“she came to you!” echoed polly. “oh, do tell us, doctor fisher,” hanging on every word breathlessly.
“why, you see i had been around considerably on my calls yesterday,” said doctor fisher; “never had so many it seemed to me; so i got home late and i had bundles in the top of the gig—had it pushed back, you know. and after i had dobbin out of the shafts, and in his stall, i just reached in to get the parcels, and the first thing i knew—see there!” the little doctor held up one hand, and there was a long, red scratch running halfway across it.
“o dear me!” cried polly in great distress.
“that’s the first thing i knew about that little white cat,” said doctor fisher, ruefully; “although i’d been on the lookout for a kitty for phronsie, and a white one, i never expected she’d come to me. but there she was, as fine as a fiddle, and she sprang up on top of those bundles. i’d[146] waked her up, you see,—and she puffed up twice her size and hissed and spit and scratched at me like all possessed!” he threw his head back, and laughed long and loud at the remembrance.
“and didn’t you find out where she came from?” cried polly, with big eyes. phronsie, divided between her joy at the story and her sorrow at the long scratch on doctor fisher’s hand, only hugged the little white cat tighter without a word.
“no, not a bit of it. you see i’d been in so many places yesterday, how could i?” said doctor fisher, wrinkling his brows. “i suppose miss puss thought my gig-top was about as nice a place to sleep in as she ever saw—so in she went without asking anybody’s leave—”
“phronsie, just think—your little white cat walked right into doctor fisher’s gig-top,” laughed polly, her worry over the wood dropping off for a moment. “oh, how funny!”
“how funny!” laughed phronsie, and the little doctor laughed. and the door swung open suddenly, and in burst joel, staggering under a load of wood very much too big for him, and after him panted little davie, and he had an armful, too.
[147]“oh, joel,” exclaimed polly, dashing over to him.
joel’s face was very red, but it wasn’t from carrying the load of wood, and he couldn’t drop it into the wood-box, because that was full, so down it went with a clang on the kitchen floor.
“i didn’t mean—oh, i—o dear me! polly, i didn’t mean,” he blubbered. then he broke down and ran into polly’s arms to hide his tears.
“oh, i know—i know,” said polly, soothingly, and rubbing his stubby head. “oh, davie, put down your wood, do,” for little davie seemed to be paralyzed, and stood quite still in his tracks.
“and i forgot,” sniffled joel, perfectly oblivious of doctor fisher and everything else. “o dear me, and ben told me.” here he gave a fresh sob.
“well, ben thought there was some wood split,” said polly, with another pat on his black hair. still, in her own mind, she was very much perplexed. when did ben ever forget anything like that? “never mind; we’ve ever so much now,” she added, brightly.
“but there was lots,” declared joel, lifting his head to look at her, “lots and lots all ready, and ben told me—” here he burst out crying again, and down went his head.
[148]“joel, stop crying,” said polly, getting her hand under his chin. but he burrowed deeper yet into her gown, mumbling, “i forgot—”
“where was the wood?” demanded polly. “joel, you must tell me this minute.”
“in the ‘provision room,’” wailed joel. “o dear me!”
“in the ‘provision room,’” repeated polly, faintly.
“yes, ben put it in there to have it dr—dry,” whimpered joel; “in the cubby hole—o dear me!”
there was a broken place on the outside of the “provision room,” called by the children the “cubby hole,” and ben had tucked the split wood in there, telling joel to fill the box behind the stove; then he had hurried off to work for deacon blodgett.
“well, never mind,” said polly again; “don’t cry, joel, you didn’t mean to forget.”
“no, he didn’t,” said little davie, who had set down his wood on the floor by the side of joel’s armful, to come anxiously up to polly’s side. “he didn’t mean to, polly.”
“i know,” said polly, nodding over to him, “and we have plenty of wood. see there, boys,” she pointed over to the big box.
[149]“where’d you get it?” joel raised his head to sniff out the words between his tears.
“oh, doctor fisher brought in the most of it,” said polly.
“no, i didn’t,” said the little doctor, who had heard every word, and whirling around toward them. “polly brought in the first lot.”
“o dear me!” exclaimed joel at that, ready to burst into fresh sobs, for the boys never allowed polly to bring in any wood, each one vying with the others to be the first one to fill the big box.
“oh, no,” said polly, so anxious to keep joel from feeling badly, she forgot she was contradicting. “i only brought in a little, joey; doctor fisher brought in all the top part.”
“well, now,” said the little doctor, cheerily, “the wood’s here, and, although it was very bad of you, joel, to go off and forget what ben told you,—i’m not denying that,—it didn’t hurt polly half as much to bring it in, as to see you cry. come, wipe up; you’re ’most a man, joel.” and that long speech over, doctor fisher whipped out his big bandanna and mopped joel’s red face from top to bottom.
“fuff—siss—meow!”
[150]“what’s that?” cried joel, emerging from the big handkerchief with dry and shining cheeks, and pricking up his ears. little davie whirled around to listen, too.
“oh, that?” said the little doctor, bursting into a laugh; “well—run over and ask phronsie. good-by, children,” and he skipped to the door and hurried out to climb into his gig and rattle off.
joel plunged over to phronsie, little david racing after. “give her to me, phron,” screamed joel, catching sight of the little white ball.
the kitten, quite accustomed now to phronsie’s fat little arms, had snuggled down, thinking it wasn’t such a very bad place, after all, that she had come to, but at joel’s loud cry she sprang upright and glared at the two boys,—the very things, if the truth must be told, that she had fled from when she jumped in that old gig standing in the front of her home down in the hollow.
“oh, joel, don’t—you’re scaring her to death,” said polly, while phronsie screamed in dismay, and struggled, her face very pink, to hold the little cat.
“phoh! i ain’t scaring her,” said joel, poking his stubby black head up closer.
[151]“don’t, joey,” begged david, trying to pull him back, but the little white cat, considering it wiser all around to look out for herself, struggled out of phronsie’s arms and leaped across the kitchen floor, and in a minute there she was, perched up on top of the old corner cupboard and glaring down at them out of two big, angry eyes.
“now see what you’ve done, joel,” exclaimed polly, in vexation. “there, phronsie, don’t cry; your kitty can’t get away.”
phronsie, since polly said so, stopped her screams, and running over to the cupboard,—“come back, my little white kitty,” she begged, holding up her arms.
but the little white cat looked down at her, as much as to say, “no, indeed, you don’t catch me as long as those dreadful boys are there.”
“i’ll get her,” shouted joel, running across the kitchen to the old table and preparing to drag it over.
“stop, joel!” commanded polly, running after him.
“i’m going to put a chair on it; then i can reach her,” screamed joel, with a very red face, tugging away at the table.
“no, no, you mustn’t, joe,” commanded polly.
[152]“o dear,—dear!” little davie was wringing his hands helplessly and turning first to phronsie and then to joel in distress.
“we must just let her alone; she’ll come down herself by and by.” polly ran over to say this to phronsie.
“but i want my little white kitty now, polly, i do,” said phronsie, in a sorrowful little voice.
“i know, pet, it’s too bad she’s up there—but she’ll come down by and by,” said polly, reassuringly, and craning her neck at the little white cat, who sat serenely on her perch. “let’s go off and play something,” she proposed suddenly.
“oh, i couldn’t play, polly,” said phronsie, reproachfully. “i want my little white cat.”
“well, i could get her,” declared joel, in a loud, wrathful tone, “if polly’d let me; just as easy as pie—”
“well, i’m not going to have you tumbling off from that chair on top of the table,” declared polly, firmly. “besides, joe, the kitty wouldn’t be there when you’d climbed up.”
“then i’d jump down and catch her here—gee—whiz!” said joel, slapping his little brown hands smartly together and stalking up and down in front of the old cupboard.
[153]“well, you mustn’t try,” said polly. “now, davie, you and i will play with phronsie, if joel doesn’t want to. come on, pet. oh, wait a minute; you must take off mamsie’s shawl.”
“oh, i don’t want to take it off, polly,” cried phronsie, edging off and clutching the little plaid shawl with both hands.
“yes, you must,” said polly; “you’ll get so hot.” so the little shawl was unpinned and laid carefully on the table. “now, then, come on,” said polly.
“i don’t want to play, polly,” said phronsie again, and surveying her with very disapproving eyes.
“oh, yes, come on, pet,” said polly, cheerily, holding out her hands, “and you too, davie.”
so phronsie, who never really thought of disobeying polly, went slowly over to polly; and having davie on her other side with a very solemn face, as he much preferred to see how things were coming out with joel, polly spun out with the two children into the middle of the kitchen floor.
“now let’s play ‘ring—around a rosy,’” she said, gayly; “come on.”
“i want to play ‘ring around—a—rosy,’” cried joel, in a loud voice.
[154]“ring a—round—a rosy,” sang polly, skipping off bravely. “take care, phronsie;” for phronsie’s gaze was fastened on the little white cat, who sat up stiffly on the top of the old cupboard, with her tail lashed around her legs, and staring down at them. “you almost tumbled on your nose, then, child.”
“i want to play ‘ring a—round—a—rosy,’ i say,” screamed joel, as the little circle swept by in the middle of the floor as fast as they could go, and singing at the top of their voices.
“joel wants to come—polly, stop,” begged little davie, breathlessly, as they whirled around.
“o dear me!” panted polly, and stopping suddenly—“do you really want to play, joel?” she asked, “really and truly?”
“yes, i do,” said joel. “oh, polly, let me,” and he rushed up to crowd into the ring.
“then you may, if you really and truly want to, joel,” said polly; “there, now, says i, take hold of davie’s hand.”
little davie, only too glad to have joel in the ring, joyfully tried to seize his brown little hand.
“i want to take hold of phronsie’s,” said joel, pulling away, “and yours, polly,” running over to get into that part of the little ring.
[155]“no, no,” protested phronsie, hanging to polly’s hand for dear life.
“no, you can’t, joel,” said polly, decidedly; “that is phronsie’s place. come the other side.”
“i’ll let him take my place,” said little davie, swallowing very hard, for he very much wanted to hold phronsie’s hand, but he dropped it at once, to let joel slip into the ring.
“oh, davie, that is so good of you!” exclaimed polly, beaming at him, but she didn’t look at joel, as he seized phronsie’s hand. “well, now, come on,” sang polly. “ring—a—round—a rosy.” and off they skipped.
“i don’t like it—stop!” roared joel. “polly, i don’t—i say—”
but polly, not heeding, pulled them around and around till everything in the old kitchen spun before their eyes, and phronsie couldn’t even see the little white cat sitting stiffly up on top of the old cupboard.
“stop!” roared joel, and “oh, do stop, polly,” implored little david, tugging at her hand.
“why, what’s the matter?” polly brought the little circle up suddenly with a laugh. “o dear me, wasn’t that a fine spin!” and she brushed her brown hair off from her hot face.
[156]“i’m not going to take hold of phronsie’s hand,” said joel, dropping her fat little fingers, and running over to squeeze in between polly and david. “dave can have the place.”
“oh, i’d rather you’d have it,” said little davie, but his heart gave a happy little throb.
“now, that’s so nice of you, joey,” said polly, approvingly, and she dropped a kiss on his stubby black hair. “well, if you don’t want to play ‘ring a—round—a—rosy’ any more, why, we won’t.”
“oh, i do—i do,” said joel, whose feet actually twitched to be spinning again, and he pulled at polly’s hand.
“i’d rather play the muffin man,” said phronsie, beginning to feel a bit easier about her little white cat, since she sat up there on top of the cupboard so quietly.
“oh, no!” roared joel, horribly disappointed. then he looked at polly’s face. “yes, let’s play the muffin man,” he said.
“so we will, joey,” cried polly, smiling at him.
so joel, feeling as if the muffin man was just the very nicest play in all the world, since polly looked at him like that, scrambled into his place in the line, quite contented to let davie be the muffin man and fill the post of honor.
[157]“phronsie ought to be that first,” said polly, “and then davie can be next—”
“all right,” said little david, tumbling out of the post of honor. so phronsie was set there, but she didn’t like it, because then she had her back to the old cupboard, so of course she couldn’t see her little white cat. when polly heard that, she gave the order for all the line to whirl over to the other side of the kitchen, with a “hurry up, children,” to the two boys. “now, then, mr. muffin man, we’re going to see you; you must scamper and be ready for us—” which phronsie did as fast as she could, but she didn’t pay much attention to her approaching guests, all her thoughts being on her little white cat. at last she could bear it no longer, and as the line was advancing, “we all know the muffin man—the muffin—man—the muffin man,” joel shouting it out above the others with great gusto, she broke out—“isn’t she ever coming down, polly?”
“o dear me!” exclaimed polly, who had almost forgotten the little white cat in the general glee. “oh, yes, sometime. now, let’s begin again. we all know the—”
but the muffin man suddenly deserted the post of honor and ran wailing over to the middle[158] of the line coming to visit him. “oh, i want her, polly, i do!” in such a tone that polly knew that something must be done to try to get the little white cat down from the top of that cupboard.
“well, now, says i, i must get that kitty,” said polly, gathering phronsie up in her arms, and at her wit’s end to know how to do it. “yes; there, don’t cry, phronsie; i’ll try to get her down for you.”
“let’s take the broom,” cried joel, running over to get it where it hung on its nail behind the door; “that’ll shoo her good.”
“no, no, joel,” said polly, shaking her head in disapproval, while phronsie screamed at the mere thought of the broom touching her little white cat, “that would be the worst thing in the world. it would make her cross and hateful, and then mamsie would have to send her away and phronsie couldn’t keep her at all.”
“well, then, how are you going to get her down?” asked joel, standing still to regard her impatiently.
“you must let me think,” said polly, wrinkling up her brows. “now, phronsie, if you cry so, i can’t ever get your kitty down. oh, you bad, naughty little thing, you!” this to the small white cat sitting stiffly up on the cupboard.
[159]“she isn’t a bad, naughty little thing, polly,” sobbed phronsie. “she’s my little white cat, and i love her.”
“well, i don’t mean really she’s bad and naughty,” said polly, with a sigh, “but i do wish she’d come down, phronsie.”
and then the very strangest thing in all the world happened. “mee—ow!” said the small white cat, but it was in a soft little voice, and she unlashed her tail from her legs and there she actually was digging her sharp claws into the side of the old cupboard to assist her descent to the floor!
“hush—sh!” whispered polly, her brown eyes very wide, and seizing joel’s blue cotton blouse; “keep still, all of you. oh, phronsie, don’t stir—she’s coming—she’s coming!”
“mee—ow!” said the little white cat, stepping gingerly along into the middle of the floor, and beginning to believe that the children hadn’t wanted her before so very much after all, and she came up to rub herself against polly’s brown calico gown.
“oh, keep still—don’t touch her!” warned polly, holding her breath. joel twisted his brown fingers together tightly, and little davie and[160] phronsie, not thinking of disobeying polly, didn’t stir.
“mee—ow!” said the little white cat, this time in displeasure and beginning to walk all around the small bunch of peppers. “mee—ow!”
“now you all keep still,” said polly. “i’ll catch her.” and sure enough, in a flash, polly had the little white cat in her arms. “oh, you’re hungry, i do believe, you poor little thing, you!” stroking her fur gently. “joel, keep your hands off. yes, phronsie, you shall take her in a minute. there—there!” and polly cuddled her up, and that little white ball of fur began to purr and try to lick polly’s face and snuggle up to her like everything!
“now, boys,” said polly, after a few minutes of this delightful proceeding when the old kitchen was fairly alive with happiness, “i do believe you must go and ask grandma bascom to give us just a very little milk in a cup:” for the little white cat, although apparently much pleased to be the centre of attraction, did not cease to bring out every now and then the most dismal “mee—ows!”
“oh, i don’t want to go,” whined joel, at the mere thought of missing any of this pleasing entertainment.
[161]“for shame, joe!” exclaimed polly; “the poor little thing is almost starved.”
“mee—ow!” said the little white cat.
“and there isn’t a bit of milk in the house and she’s only just come,” finished polly, feeling it a very poor way to entertain a newly arrived guest, while phronsie hung over the new treasure, telling her she was going to have some really and truly milk. joel hung his head. “i’ll go,” he said; “what’ll i get it in, polly?”
“take one of the cups,” said polly, pointing to the dresser, “and davie, you run too with joel, that’s a good boy.”
“i’ll run, too,” said little david, with alacrity. so joel took down one of the cups and then two boys hurrying with all their might, raced off, polly calling after them—“don’t spill it—”
and before long back they came. “o dear me!” exclaimed polly in dismay; “grandma needn’t have given us all that. didn’t you tell her just a very little, joel?” as joel, gripping the cup with both hands, not daring to take his eyes off from it, walked up carefully to polly’s side.
“i did,” said joel. “oh, yes, he did,” declared little davie, loudly, while phronsie gave a little shout of delight. then she laid her yellow head[162] close to the little white cat, still snuggled up in polly’s arms. “you are going to have some really and truly milk, you are, kitty,” she whispered.
“now you may hold her, phronsie, a minute,” said polly. “i must pour the milk into a saucer.” for the little white cat’s nose was poked up toward the cup, and trembling violently in her eagerness to get some. “oh, she’ll upset it all,” cried polly; “hold her tightly, phronsie.”
“mee—ow!” cried the little white cat, in disappointment, as polly hurried off, two or three drops of milk trailing down the side of the cup.
“yes, yes—you shall have it,” promised polly, over her shoulder. “poor little thing, you—do keep still; i’ll be right back.”
and in a minute there the little white cat was before a saucer, both eyes closing blissfully, and her small pink tongue, darting in and out, was busy enough carrying the milk to her mouth, all four of the little peppers in a ring around her on the kitchen floor.
