Five Little Peppers and How They Grew

  Produced by David Reed

  FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND HOW THEY GREW

  By Margaret Sidney

  To the Memory of MY MOTHER; wise in counsel--tender in judgment, and in all charity --strengthful in Christian faith and purpose --I dedicate, with reverence, this simple book.

  CONTENTS

  A HOME VIEW

  MAKING HAPPINESS FOR MAMSIE

  MAMSIE'S BIRTHDAY

  TROUBLE FOR THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE

  MORE TROUBLE

  HARD DAYS FOR POLLY

  THE CLOUD OVER THE LITTLE BROWN HOUSE

  JOEL'S TURN

  SUNSHINE AGAIN

  A THREATENED BLOW

  SAFE

  NEW FRIENDS

  PHRONSIE PAYS A DEBT OF GRATITUDE

  A LETTER TO JASPER

  JOLLY DAYS

  GETTING A CHRISTMAS FOR THE LITTLE ONES

  CHRISTMAS BELLS!

  EDUCATION AHEAD

  BRAVE WORK AND THE REWARD

  POLLY IS COMFORTED

  PHRONSIE

  GETTING READY FOR MAMSIE AND THE BOYS

  WHICH TREATS OF A GOOD MANY MATTERS

  POLLY'S DISMAL MORNING

  POLLY'S BIG BUNDLE

  FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS

  A HOME VIEW

  The little old kitchen had quieted down from the bustle and confusionof mid-day; and now, with its afternoon manners on, presented a holidayaspect, that as the principal room in the brown house, it was eminentlyproper it should have. It was just on the edge of the twilight; and thelittle Peppers, all except Ben, the oldest of the flock, were enjoyinga "breathing spell," as their mother called it, which meant somequiet work suitable for the hour. All the "breathing spell" they couldremember however, poor things; for times were always hard with themnowadays; and since the father died, when Phronsie was a baby, Mrs.Pepper had had hard work to scrape together money enough to put breadinto her children's mouths, and to pay the rent of the little brownhouse.

  But she had met life too bravely to be beaten down now. So with a stoutheart and a cheery face, she had worked away day after day at makingcoats, and tailoring and mending of all descriptions; and she had seenwith pride that couldn't be concealed, her noisy, happy brood growingup around her, and filling her heart with comfort, and making the littlebrown house fairly ring with jollity and fun.

  "Poor things!" she would say to herself, "they haven't had any bringingup; they've just scrambled up!" And then she would set her lips togethertightly, and fly at her work faster than ever. "I must get schooling forthem some way, but I don't see how!"

  Once or twice she had thought, "Now the time is coming!" but it neverdid: for winter shut in very cold, and it took so much more to feed andwarm them, that the money went faster than ever. And then, when the wayseemed clear again, the store changed hands, so that for a long time shefailed to get her usual supply of sacks and coats to make; and thatmade sad havoc in the quarters and half-dollars laid up as her nest egg.But--"Well, it'll come some time," she would say to herself; "because itmust!" And so at it again she would fly, brisker than ever.

  "To help mother," was the great ambition of all the children, olderand younger; but in Polly's and Ben's souls, the desire grew sooverwhelmingly great as to absorb all lesser thoughts. Many and vastwere their secret plans, by which they were to astonish her at somefuture day, which they would only confide--as they did everythingelse--to one another. For this brother and sister were everything toeach other, and stood loyally together through "thick and thin."

  Polly was ten, and Ben one year older; and the younger three of the"Five Little Peppers," as they were always called, looked up to themwith the intensest admiration and love. What they failed to do, couldn'tvery well be done by any One!

  "Oh dear!" exclaimed Polly as she sat over in the corner by the windowhelping her mother pull out basting threads from a coat she had justfinished, and giving an impatient twitch to the sleeve, "I do wish wecould ever have any light--just as much as we want!"

  "You don't need any light to see these threads," said Mrs. Pepper,winding up hers carefully, as she spoke, on an old spool. "Take care,Polly, you broke that; thread's dear now."

  "I couldn't help it," said Polly, vexedly; "it snapped; everything'sdear now, it seems to me! I wish we could have--oh! ever an' ever somany candles; as many as we wanted. I'd light 'em all, so there! andhave it light here one night, anyway!"

  "Yes, and go dark all the rest of the year, like as anyway," observedMrs. Pepper, stopping to untie a knot. "Folks who do so never have anycandles," she added, sententiously.

  "How many'd you have, Polly?" asked Joel, curiously, laying down hishammer, and regarding her with the utmost anxiety.

  "Oh, two hundred!" said Polly, decidedly. "I'd have two hundred, all ina row!"

  "Two hundred candles!" echoed Joel, in amazement. "My whockety! what alot!"

  "Don't say such dreadful words, Joel," put in Polly, nervously, stoppingto pick up her spool of basting thread that was racing away all byitself; "tisn't nice."

  "Tisn't worse than to wish you'd got things you haven't," retorted Joel."I don't believe you'd light 'em all at once," he added, incredulously.

  "Yes, I would too!" replied Polly, reckessly; "two hundred of 'em, if Ihad a chance; all at once, so there, Joey Pepper!"

  "Oh," said little Davie, drawing a long sigh. "Why, 'twould be just likeheaven, Polly! but wouldn't it cost money, though!"

  "I don't care," said Polly, giving a flounce in her chair, which snappedanother thread; "oh dear me! I didn't mean to, mammy; well, I wouldn'tcare how much money it cost, we'd have as much light as we wanted, foronce; so!"

  "Mercy!" said Mrs. Pepper, "you'd have the house afire! Two hundredcandles! who ever heard of such a thing!"

  "Would they burn?" asked Phronsie, anxiously, getting up from the floorwhere she was crouching with David, overseeing Joel nail on the cover ofan old box; and going to Polly's side she awaited her answer patiently.

  "Burn?" said Polly. "There, that's done now, mamsie dear!" And she putthe coat, with a last little pat, into her mother's lap. "I guess theywould, Phronsie pet." And Polly caught up the little girl, and spunround and round the old kitchen till they were both glad to stop.

  "Then," said Phronsie, as Polly put her down, and stood breathless afterher last glorious spin, "I do so wish we might, Polly; oh, just thisvery one minute!"

  And Phronsie clasped her fat little hands in rapture at the thought.

  "Well," said Polly, giving a look up at the old clock in the corner;"deary me! it's half-past five; and most time for Ben to come home!"

  Away she flew to get supper. So for the next few moments nothing washeard but the pulling out of the old table into the middle of the floor,the laying the cloth, and all the other bustle attendant upon thebeing ready for Ben. Polly went skipping around, cutting the bread,and bringing dishes; only stopping long enough to fling some scraps ofreassuring nonsense to the two boys, who were thoroughly dismayed atbeing obliged to remove their traps into a corner.

  Phronsie still stood just where Polly left her. Two hundred candles! oh!what could it mean! She gazed up to the old beams overhead, and aroundthe dingy walls, and to the old black stove, with the fire nearly out,and then over everything the kitchen contained, trying to think how itwould seem. To have it bright and winsome and warm! to suit Polly--"oh!"she screamed.

  "Goodness!" said Polly, taking her head out of the old cupboard in thecorner, "how you scared me, Phronsie!"

  "Would they ever go out?" asked the child gravely, still standing wher
ePolly left her.

  "What?" asked Polly, stopping with a dish of cold potatoes in her hand."What, Phronsie?"

  "Why, the candles," said the child, "the ever-an'-ever so many prettylights!"

  "Oh, my senses!" cried Polly, with a little laugh, "haven't youforgotten that! Yes--no, that is, Phronsie, if we could have 'em at all,we wouldn't ever let 'em go out!"

  "Not once?" asked Phronsie, coming up to Polly with a little skip, andnearly upsetting her, potatoes and all--"not once, Polly, truly?"

  "No, not forever-an'-ever," said Polly; "take care, Phronsie! there goesa potato; no, we'd keep 'em always!"

  "No, you don't want to," said Mrs. Pepper, coming out of the bedroom intime to catch the last words; "they won't be good to-morrow; better havethem to-night, Polly."

  "Ma'am!" said Polly, setting down her potato-dish on the table, andstaring at her mother with all her might--"have what, mother?"

  "Why, the potatoes, to be sure," replied Mrs. Pepper; "didn't you sayyou better keep them, child?"

  "Twasn't potatoes--at all," said Polly, with a little gasp; "twas--dearme! here's Ben!" For the door opened, and Phronsie, with a scream ofdelight, bounded into Ben's arms.

  "It's just jolly," said Ben, coming in, his chubby face all aglow, andhis big blue eyes shining so honest and true; "it's just jolly to gethome! supper ready, Polly?"

  "Yes," said Polly; "that is--all but--" and she dashed off forPhronsie's eating apron.

  "Sometime," said Phronsie, with her mouth half full, when the meal wasnearly over, "we're going to be awful rich; we are, Ben, truly!"

  "No?" said Ben, affecting the most hearty astonishment; "you don't sayso, Chick!"

  "Yes," said Phronsie, shaking her yellow head very wisely at him, anddiving down into her cup of very weak milk and water to see if Polly hadput any sugar in by mistake--a proceeding always expectantly observed."Yes, we are really, Bensie, very dreadful rich!"

  "I wish we could be rich now, then," said Ben, taking another generousslice of the brown bread; "in time for mamsie's birthday," and he cast asorrowful glance at Polly.

  "I know," said Polly; "oh dear! if we only could celebrate it!"

  "I don't want any other celebration," said Mrs. Pepper, beaming onthem so that a little flash of sunshine seemed to hop right down on thetable, "than to look round on you all; I'm rich now, and that's a fact!"

  "Mamsie don't mind her five bothers," cried Polly, jumping up andrunning to hug her mother; thereby producing a like desire in all theothers, who immediately left their seats and followed her example.

  "Mother's rich enough," ejaculated Mrs. Pepper; her bright, black eyesglistening with delight, as the noisy troop filed back to their breadand potatoes; "if we can only keep together, dears, and grow up good, sothat the little brown house won't be ashamed of us, that's all I ask."

  "Well," said Polly, in a burst of confidence to Ben, after the table hadbeen pushed back against the wall, the dishes nicely washed, wiped, andset up neatly in the cupboard, and all traces of the meal cleared away;"I don't care; let's try and get a celebration, somehow, for mamsie!"

  "How are you going to do it?" asked Ben, who was of a decidedlypractical turn of mind, and thus couldn't always follow Polly in herflights of imagination.

  "I don't know," said Polly; "but we must some way."

  "Phoh! that's no good," said Ben, disdainfully; then seeing Polly'sface, he added kindly: "let's think, though; and perhaps there'll besome way."

  "Oh, I know," cried Polly, in delight; "I know the very thing, Ben!let's make her a cake; a big one, you know, and--"

  "She'll see you bake it," said Ben; "or else she'll smell it, and that'dbe just as bad."

  "No, she won't either," replied Polly. "Don't you know she's going tohelp Mrs. Henderson to-morrow; so there!"

  "So she is," said Ben; "good for you, Polly, you always think ofeverything!"

  "And then," said Polly, with a comfortable little feeling at her heartat Ben's praise, "why, we can have it all out of the way splendidly, youknow, when she comes home--and besides, Grandma Bascom'll tell me how.You know we've only got brown flour, Ben; I mean to go right over andask her now."

  "Oh, no, you mustn't," cried Ben, catching hold of her arm as she waspreparing to fly off. "Mammy'll find it out; better wait till to-morrow;and besides Polly--" And Ben stopped, unwilling to dampen thispropitious beginning. "The stove'll act like everything, to-morrow! Iknow 'twill; then what'll you do!"

  "It sha'n't!" said Polly, running up to look it in the face; "if itdoes, I'll shake it; the mean old thing!"

  The idea of Polly's shaking the lumbering old black affair, sent Beninto such a peal of laughter that it brought all the other childrenrunning to the spot; and nothing would do but they must one and all, betold the reason. So Polly and Ben took them into confidence, whichso elated them that half an hour after, when long past her bedtime,Phronsie declared, "I'm not going to bed! I want to sit up like Polly!"

  "Don't tease her," whispered Polly to Ben, who thought she ought to go;so she sat straight up on her little stool, winking like everything tokeep awake.

  At last, as Polly was in the midst of one of her liveliest sallies, overtumbled Phronsie, a sleepy little heap, upon the floor.

  "I want--to go--to bed!" she said; "take me--Polly!"

  "I thought so," laughed Polly, and bundled her off into the bedroom.