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Updated: June 23, 2025
"I am so glad if I can have the same little house," said Phronsie, with a sigh of contentment, as she slowly got out of her Bath chair. "It is a nice little house, Grandpapa, and I love it very much." "Mamsie, have we been here a whole week in Amsterdam," cried Polly, leaning out of the window to look up and down the canal where the many-coloured boats lay, "beside all those days at Scheveningen?
How did you ever get so many things over here, in all this world, and why didn't you let me stay with you?" Polly had exclaimed in one breath, looking at the array of dresses, sacks, and hats disposed around the room. And Mamsie was kneeling before an open trunk to take out more.
For Polly had suddenly waked one morning, to find herself, not "famous," but alive with the sense of being as her mother had so often expressed it "Mamsie's little right-hand woman." "It will be much better to have everything plain," said Polly, communing with herself, as she turned on her pillow. "Mamsie has always been without show, of any kind, and so," but here Polly's heart stood still.
Polly drew a long breath of delight, and gazed long at the face of the stove that seemed to crackle out an answering note of joy as the wood snapped merrily; then she slowly looked around the kitchen. "It's so perfectly lovely, Mamsie," she broke out at length, "to see the dear old things, and to know that they are waiting here for us to come back whenever we want to.
Pepper, as audience, was seated in her big rocking chair that Ben had brought out from the kitchen and placed in the best spot on the grass to see it all, and Polly and Ben and Joel and David and Phronsie were in the depths of excitement, and flitting here and there, Polly, as chief director, having a perfectly awful time to get them into their parts, particularly as Phronsie would keep rushing up, the old white fur rug nearly tripping her up every step, to lay her soft face against Mother Pepper's, and cry out, "I'm to be a white cat, Mamsie.
"Tisn't a cake it's an animal," corrected Joel, irritably. "Yes, yes so 'tis a cake," repeated Grandma Bascom, taking the animal. "'Tisn't," said Joel. "Mamsie, make her stop saying things that aren't so, over and over." "Joel," said Polly, quickly, "Mrs. Beebe hasn't any animal. Why don't you give her a let me see," and she considered deeply.
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."
Beebe in town where Phronsie got her shoes, you know; that is, if mamsie can," she added, remembering how very busy her mother would be. "I'll carry them myself," said Jasper; "we're going to stay over till the next day, you know." "O!" cried Polly, radiant as a rose, "will you, really, Jappy? you're so good!"
Atkins has got for Mamsie." "Yes," said Joel, "we will, Polly." So Polly ran over the stairs and kissed Joel and little Davie, who crowded up for one also, and then Phronsie had to come up to be kissed too. "What are you two boys doing?" asked Polly. "Nothin'," said Joel. David was silently digging his toes back and forth on the floor.
At that Joel gave a loud howl, nearly upsetting Polly from her stone; then, digging his two fists into his eyes, he plunged forward and thrust his black head on the folded hands in her lap. "I ain't naughty," he screamed. "I ain't, and Mamsie won't care. O dear ooh ooh!"
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