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"It's all washed out," said Polly, smoothing it out, "when you staid out in the rain." Phronsie's face grew very grave at that. "Bad, naughty old rain," she said, and then she began to cry as hard as she could.
"Well, she's in the library now, most likely," said Jasper, cheerfully, hurrying after, "curled up asleep in a corner." And they both ran in, expecting to see Phronsie's yellow head snuggled into one of the pillows.
"What shall we do!" said Mrs. Pepper; "there haven't any of them had it." The doctor was over by the little old table under the window, mixing up some black-looking stuff in a tumbler, and he didn't hear her. "There," he said, putting a spoonful into Phronsie's mouth, "she'll get along well enough; only keep her out of the cold." Then he pulled out a big silver watch.
"Just imagine Phronsie's eyes when she sees that production. Candace, you've surpassed yourself." "You go 'long!" exclaimed Candace, in delight, and bestowing a gentle pat of deprecation on his shoulder, "'tain't like what I could do; but la! well, you send de bressed chile along, and mabbe she'll like it."
"I don't think, Mamsie," she said quietly, "that people ought to be so very good who've never had a little brown house; never in all their lives." "Oh, yes, they had, child," said Mrs. Pepper briskly; "places don't make any difference. It's people's duty to be good wherever they are." But Phronsie's face expressed great incredulity.
"May I carry her?" begged Phronsie, staggering to her feet "she's mine" and dragging the Marken baby up with her. "Goodness me! no, child!" exclaimed Grandpapa, in horror. "Put her down, Phronsie; she's ever so much too heavy for you, dear." He put forth a protesting hand, but the tears ran down Phronsie's cheeks and fell on the baby's stiff white cap. At that old Mr.
And Grandma, looking down, saw a little wad in his hand. "Now I do believe that's from the blessed little creeter," she exclaimed, very much excited; "that must be Phronsie's." "Yes, it is," said Peletiah. "Why didn't you tell me that before?" cried Grandma. "You should 'a' read it first of all." She leaned forward in her chair, unable to lose a word.
Fisher, pointing to Phronsie's wide-open door; but she was standing beside them in her little nightdress, and heard the next words plainly enough. "Run down stairs, Jane," commanded Mother Fisher, "and tell the doctor what Griggs said; just as fast as you can, Jane."
Her hand was gathered up, into the kind one that held Phronsie's; and there they watched and watched and waited. "Oh, dear," said Phronsie, suddenly, turning over with a little sigh, and bobbing up her head to look at Polly; "I'm so hungry! I haven't had anything to eat in ever an' ever so long, Polly!" and she gazed at her with a very injured countenance. "So you must be," said Mrs.
And you must every one of you help to make this Home just the very best Home that ever was. Will you?" And then she smiled down into their faces while she waited for her answer. "Oh, yes, yes," screamed the children, every one. The little black creature got off from her cricket at Phronsie's feet to look into her face. "And I will too," she cried.
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