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Updated: May 15, 2025
Which she did, until every one of the household, creeping in and out, declared she could not possibly sleep any longer, and that they must wake her up. This last was from Polly. "What do you suppose it is, Mamsie?" she asked, for about the fiftieth time, hanging over Phronsie's little bed. "Nothing," said Mrs. Fisher, with firm lips.
"See here!" called Joel, edging up, "why don't you talk to me?" "I haven't anything to say," Polly condescended to give him, without turning her head. "Come, Phronsie," holding out her hand. "Wait a minute." "Well, what is it?" Polly's hand now held Phronsie's, but she paused on the way to the door.
Polly gathered Phronsie's other hand in hers, while she clung closer than ever to Grandpapa. "Here's your pocket-book," said Tom, handing the article over; "he hasn't spent much." "Don't, Tom," said Jasper, "joke about it." "Can't help it," said Tom. "Well, now, shall we turn him over to the sergents de ville?" "Turn him over?" repeated Mr. King.
In about half an hour, the steerage baby having gone to sleep in Phronsie's arms, the brothers and sisters, finding, after the closest inspection, nothing more to eat in the basket, gathered around the centre of attraction in a small bunch. "I hope they won't wake up the baby," said Phronsie, in gentle alarm. "Never you fear," said old Mr.
"Oh, yes, yes, I hope so," answered Grandpapa, when she paused for an answer. Jasper came running out as the cab drove into the court. "Oh!" he exclaimed, at sight of Phronsie's face, then drove the words on his tongue back again, as he lifted her out. "Give her to Polly to fix up a bit," said his father. "She's all right, Jasper, my boy, I can't talk of it now. Hurry and take her to Polly."
"All right," exclaimed Jasper, in great satisfaction. "Polly Polly." Phronsie's yellow head came up above the stairs, and presently Phronsie came running up to them in great haste. "O, Polly!" and she threw her arms hungrily around Polly and hugged her closely. "O, dear!" letting her arms fall, "I wasn't to stop a minute.
"But I do," said Phronsie, forgetting her age, to hop up and down on the rug, "we've a letter while you were at the school, and I wasn't to tell you suddenly, so I put on one of my nice gowns, so you would know." "But how could I possibly suppose that Jasper would come now," cried Polly, seizing Phronsie's hands to execute one of the old-time dances.
Pepper, seeing Phronsie's delighted face, and laughing as she went back to her work, "but what that gingerbread boy'll go?" When the little cakes were done, eight of them, and set upon the table for exhibition, they one and all protested that they never saw so fine a lot.
Quick as a flash, Polly tore off the little old shoe, and well-worn stocking, and brought to light Phronsie's fat little foot. Tenderly taking hold of the white toes, the boys clustering around in the greatest anxiety, she worked them back and forth, and up and down. "Nothing's broken," she said at last, and drew a long breath.
She clasped her hands and stood quite still in front of her mother. "Who, dear?" asked Mrs. Fisher absently. She was standing over by the window, with one of Phronsie's pinafores in her hand and wondering if any more were needed to carry her through the summer. "She really is, Mamsie," said Phronsie, very much disappointed that her mother didn't seem to notice.
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