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Updated: June 15, 2025
He was the most restless of companions on any pleasure excursion. "And Phronsie's got hurt," said Mrs. Beebe, telling him the news, as he finished tucking her up, and started the old horse. "Ho? you don't say so!" he cried; "whoa!" "Dear me!" said Mrs. Beebe; "how you scat me, pal what's the matter?" "What? the little girl that bought the shoes?" asked her husband.
But Polly didn't hear; over the big, flat door-stone she sped, and met Ben with little David, coming in the gate. His face was just like Phronsie's! And with a cold, heavy feeling at her heart, Polly realized that this was no play. "Oh, Ben!" she cried, flinging her arms around his neck, and bursting into tears; "don't! please I wish you wouldn't; Phronsie's got 'em, and that's enough!"
And seizing Phronsie's hand again, she bore her off, dodging between rows of dwellings, that, if her companion could have seen, would have certainly proved to be quite novel.
Beebe," she said presently, "and nice Mrs. Beebe, can I, Mamsie?" looking over at her. "To be sure," cried Mrs. Pepper, "you shall indeed, child." "Beebe-Beebe, and who is he, pray?" demanded Mr. King. "Oh! he keeps the shoe shop over in the Center," explained three or four voices, "and Phronsie's new shoes were bought there, you know."
"Didn't you bring it?" cried Polly, pausing a minute. "Boys," as she saw that they hadn't started, "come this minute, and bring Phronsie's cup," she screamed. "Now come on, child; they run so much faster they will soon overtake us." Phronsie, with her mind at rest about her cup, kept up as well as she could by Polly's side.
"Oh, boys!" gasped Polly, "there can't be a thunder-storm coming!" and she poked her head out from her clump, and stared up at the sky in dismay. "There surely is! Now we must run home like everything." She skipped out and seized Phronsie's arm. "Come, Pet," and not stopping to look, she set out upon a run. Phronsie began to wail, and then pulled back. "I've left my cup, Polly," she said.
And presently the whole kitchen resounded with a merry din, as the several cakes and biscuits were declared almost ready for their respective pans. "But, I can tell you, this gingerbread boy is going in next," declared Mr. King from Phronsie's baking-board. "It's almost done, isn't it, child?" "Not quite, Grandpapa," said Phronsie; "this eye won't stay in just like the other.
The other children, tow headed and also chubby, looked at the basket hanging on Phronsie's arm, and also grinned. "There is the baby!" exclaimed Phronsie, in delight, pulling Grandpapa's hand gently. "Oh, Grandpapa, there he is." "That's very evident," said the old gentleman. "Bless me!" addressing the woman, "how many children have you, pray tell?" "Nine," she said.
"And I never should be happy in all this world to remember that I helped to make my Mamsie unhappy on her wedding day." Phronsie shivered, and her voice held a miserable little thrill as she begged, "Oh! make her be married just as she wants to be, Polly, do." "Now that's what I call mean," cried Joel in a loud, vindictive tone back of Polly, "to work on Phronsie's feelings.
Hamilton Dyce had protested he didn't care for any such trifling deficiency, for he could put more pins in that quarter, so he should still be its purchaser. "So you can," cried Polly, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, and winking furiously over at the boys. "And we can write more letters," cried Jasper suddenly, springing over to Phronsie's side.
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