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Updated: May 14, 2025
It wasn't a moment, then, before Mother Pepper had him in the kitchen and the blood washed off, and as well as she could see, for the little stream that flowed again, she found out where the trouble was, in the long zigzag cut down the fleshy part of Joel's little brown hand. "Mother'll fix you up all right," she kept saying.
An' to think how I driv' you clear over here, an' that horse most runnin' away all the time." Polly got out of her chair and sorrowfully went up to Joel. "We'll sit out in the shop, if you please, dear Mr. and Mrs. Beebe, till you get through the party. And then, if you please, we'd like to go home." Joel's head dropped, and his little brown fists fell down. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. Mrs.
Joel flung himself flat, and burrowed along the whole length of the bed, knocking Davie's shins all the way. "You're pullin' all the blanket off me," said Davie, clutching his end from Joel's frantic grasp. "Go to sleep, boys," said Ben, sharply. "And Joe, stop grumbling for a drink of water. Now you've waked up David." Joel gripped Davie fast and clapped one hand over his mouth.
Joel's arms fell down at his side, and he stared wildly at her a moment. Then he flung himself flat on the ground and roared. "He's worse agin," said Mr. Biggs, in great distress. "I guess he wants pep'mint. My mother used to give me that when I'd et green apples." But Polly shook her head. "He can't go, Mr. Biggs," she said; "but Davie can."
"Well, you needn't," cried Polly, "pity me, Ben, for Joel's so very happy. And poor Mr. Blodgett! O dear, it's too bad his barn's all burnt up." "And the horse and the cow," said Ben, very soberly. "Hush!" warned Polly, looking around to see if Phronsie heard.
A second trip with the sled was required to transport the basins up to the corral, the day's work being barely finished in time for him to assist in penning the herd. "How many baits have you?" was Joel's hail. "Sixty odd." "You'll need them. Three separate wolf packs lay in sight all the afternoon. Several times they crept up within one hundred yards of the cattle.
"To Grandma Bascom's," shouted two or three voices. "Joel's over there," sang out Polly. "We couldn't go without him, you know," chirped Phronsie, poking a distressed little face up from the straw heap. "'Twould serve him just right if we did," said Van. "He's a great chap to stay over there like this."
Joel, after two meals in which he had fended for himself, looked more than ever like an early Christian martyr. "There's a letter come for you," he said with marked coldness. Persis whirled about, a wild foolish hope in her heart. "A letter? Where?" "On the mantel, next the clock!" Joel's eyes followed his sister as she crossed the room with that quick light step, so reminiscent of girlhood.
Even then, in splendid refutation of the theory that curiosity is the cardinal vice of her sex, Persis completed the task on which she was engaged before putting herself in a position to answer Joel's inquiry as to the identity of the correspondent using the stationery of the Clematis House.
That's the truth, Joel, and you oughtn't to mind hearing it." "Well, we ain't goin' to be poor," declared Joel, confidently. "When Joel's ships come in, I s'pose he means," said Ben, and the children shouted. "I don't care," said Joel, when the laugh died down, "we ain't goin' to be poor when I git to be a man. I'm goin' to be awful rich."
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