MAKING HAPPINESS FOR MAMSIE

  And so, the minute her mother had departed for the minister's house nextmorning, and Ben had gone to his day's work, chopping wood for DeaconBlodgett, Polly assembled her force around the old stove, and proceededto business. She and the children had been up betimes that morning toget through with the work; and now, as they glanced around with a lookof pride on the neatly swept floor, the dishes all done, and everythingin order, the moment their mother's back was turned they began toimplore Polly to hurry and begin.

  "It's most 'leven o'clock," said Joel, who, having no work to dooutside, that day, was prancing around, wild to help along thefestivities; "it's most 'leven o'clock, Polly Pepper! you won't have itdone."

  "Oh, no; 'tisn't either, Joe;" said Polly, with a very flushed face, andher arms full of kindlings, glancing up at the old clock as she spoke;"tisn't but quarter of nine; there, take care, Phronsie! you can't liftoff the cover; do help her, Davie."

  "No; let me!" cried Joel, springing forward; "it's my turn; Dave got theshingles; it's my turn, Polly."

  "So 'tis," said Polly; "I forgot; there," as she flung in the wood,and poked it all up in a nice little heap coaxingly. "It can't help butburn; what a cake we'll have for mamsie!"

  "It'll be so big," cried Phronsie, hopping around on one set of toes,"that mamsie won't know what to do, will she, Polly?"

  "No, I don't believe she will," said Polly, gayly, stuffing in morewood; "Oh, dear! there goes Ben's putty; it's all come out!"

  "So it has," said Joel, going around back of the stove to explore; andthen he added cheerfully, "it's bigger'n ever; oh! it's an awful bighole, Polly!"

  "Now, whatever shall we do!" said Polly, in great distress; "thathateful old crack! and Ben's clear off to Deacon Blodgett's!"

  "I'll run and get him," cried Joel, briskly; "I'll bring him right homein ten minutes."

  "Oh, no, you must not, Joe," cried Polly in alarm; "it wouldn't ever beright to take him off from his work; mamsie wouldn't like it."

  "What will you do, then?" asked Joel, pausing on his way to the door.

  "I'm sure I don't know," said Polly, getting down on her knees toexamine the crack; "I shall have to stuff it with paper, I s'pose."

  "'Twon't stay in," said Joel, scornfully; "don't you know you stuffed itbefore, last week?"

  "I know," said Polly, with a small sigh; and sitting down on the floor,she remained quite still for a minute, with her two black hands thrustout straight before her.

  "Can't you fix it?" asked Davie, soberly, coming up; "then we can't havethe cake."

  "Dear me!" exclaimed Polly, springing up quickly; "don't be afraid;we're going to have that cake! There, you ugly old thing, you!" (thisto the stove) "see what you've done!" as two big tears flew out ofPhronsie's brown eyes at the direful prospect; and the sorrowful facesof the two boys looked up into Polly's own, for comfort. "I can fix it,I most know; do get some paper, Joe, as quick as you can."

  "Don't know where there is any," said Joel, rummaging around; "it's alltore up; 'xcept the almanac; can't I take that?"

  "Oh dear, no!" cried Polly; "put it right back, Joe; I guess there'ssome in the wood-shed."

  "There isn't either," said little Davie, quickly; "Joel and I took it tomake kites with."

  "Oh dear," groaned Polly; "I don't know what we shall do; unless," as abright thought struck her, "you let me have the kites, boys."

  "Can't," said Joel; "they're all flew away; and torn up."

  "Well, now, children," said Polly, turning round impressively upon them,the effect of which was heightened by the extremely crocky appearanceshe had gained in her explorations, "we must have some paper, orsomething to stop up that old hole with--some way, there!"

  "I know," said little Davie, "where we'll get it; it's upstairs;" andwithout another word he flew out of the room, and in another minute heput into Polly's hand an old leather boot-top, one of his most treasuredpossessions. "You can chip it," he said, "real fine, and then 'twill goin."

  "So we can," said Polly; "and you're a real good boy, Davie, to give it;that's a splendid present to help celebrate for mamsie!"

  "I'd a-given a boot-top," said Joel, looking grimly at the precious bitof leather which Polly was rapidly stripping into little bits, "if I'da-hed it; I don't have anything!"

  "I know you would, Joey," said Polly, kindly; "there now, you'll stay,I guess!" as with the united efforts of the two boys, cheered on byPhronsie's enthusiastic little crow of delight, the leather was crowdedinto place, and the fire began to burn.

  "Now, boys," said Polly, getting up, and drawing a long breath, "I'mgoing over to Grandma Bascom's to get her to tell me how to make thecake; and you must stay and keep house."

  "I'm going to nail," said Joel; "I've got lots to do."

  "All right," said Polly, tying on her hood; "Phronsie'll love to watchyou; I won't be gone long," and she was off.

  "Grandma Bascom," wasn't really the children's grandmother; onlyeverybody in the village called her so by courtesy. Her cottage was overacross the lane, and just a bit around the corner; and Polly flew alongand up to the door, fully knowing that now she would be helped out ofher difficulty. She didn't stop to knock, as the old lady was so deafshe knew she wouldn't hear her, but opened the door and walked in.Grandma was sweeping up the floor, already as neat as a pin; when shesaw Polly coming, she stopped, and leaned on her broom.

  "How's your ma?" she asked, when Polly had said "good morning," and thenhesitated.

  "Oh, mammy's pretty well," shouted Polly into the old lady's ear; "andto-morrow's her birthday!"

  "To-morrow'll be a bad day!" said grandma. "Oh, don't never say that.You mustn't borrow trouble, child."

  "I didn't," said Polly; "I mean--it's her birthday, grandma!" this lastso loud that grandma's cap-border vibrated perceptibly.

  "The land's sakes 'tis!" cried Mrs. Bascom, delightedly; "you don't sayso!"

  "Yes," said Polly, skipping around the old lady, and giving her a smallhug; "and we're going to give her a surprise."

  "What is the matter with her eyes?" asked grandma, sharply, turningaround and facing her; "she's been a-sewin' too stiddy, hain't she?"

  "A surprise!" shouted Polly, standing upon tiptoe, to bring her mouth ona level with the old lady's ear; "a cake, grandma, a big one!"

  "A cake!" exclaimed grandma, dropping the broom to settle her cap, whichPolly in her extreme endeavors to carry on the conversation, had knockedslightly awry; "well, that'll be fine."

  "Yes," said Polly, picking up the broom, and flinging off her hoodat the same time; "and, oh! won't you please tell me how to make it,grandma!"

  "To be sure; to be sure;" cried the old lady, delighted beyond measureto give advice; "I've got splendid receets; I'll go get 'em right off,"and she ambled to the door of the pantry.

  "And I'll finish sweeping up," said Polly, which grandma didn't hear;so she took up the broom, and sent it energetically, and merrily flyingaway to the tune of her own happy thoughts.

  "Yes, they're right in here," said grandma, waddling back with an oldtin teapot in her hand;--"goodness, child! what a dust you've kickedup! that ain't the way to sweep." And she took the broom out of Polly'shand, who stood quite still in mortification.

  "There," she said, drawing it mildly over the few bits she could scrapetogether, and gently coaxing them into a little heap; "that's the way;and then they don't go all over the room.

  "I'm sorry," began poor Polly.

  "'Tain't any matter," said Mrs. Bascom kindly, catching sight of Polly'sdiscomfited face; "tain't a mite of matter; you'll sweep better nexttime; now let's go to the cake;" and putting the broom into the corner,she waddled back again to the table, followed by Polly, and proceededto turn out the contents of the teapot, in search of just the right"receet."

  But the right one didn't seem to appear; not even after the teapot wasturned upside down and shaken by both grandma's and Polly's anxioushands. Every other "receet" seemed to tumble out gladly, and stare them
in the face--little dingy rolls of yellow paper, with an ancient odorof spice still clinging to them; but all efforts to find this particularone failed utterly.

  "Won't some other one do?" asked Polly, in the interval of fruitlesssearching, when grandma bewailed and lamented, and wondered, "where Icould a put it!"

  "No, no, child," answered the old lady; "now, where do you s'pose 'tis!"and she clapped both hands to her head, to see if she could possiblyremember; "no, no, child," she repeated. "Why, they had it down to myniece Mirandy's weddin'--'twas just elegant! light as a feather; and'twan't rich either," she added; "no eggs, nor--"

  "Oh, I couldn't have eggs;" cried Polly, in amazement at the thought ofsuch luxury; "and we've only brown flour, grandma, you know."

  "Well, you can make it of brown," said Mrs. Bascom, kindly; "when theraisins is in 'twill look quite nice."

  "Oh, we haven't any raisins," answered Polly.

  "Haven't any raisins!" echoed grandma, looking at her over herspectacles; "what are you goin' to put in?"

  "Oh--cinnamon," said Polly, briskly; "we've got plenty of that,and--it'll be good, I guess, grandma!" she finished, anxiously; "anyway,we must have a cake; there isn't any other way to celebrate mamsie'sbirthday."

  "Well, now," said grandma, bustling around; "I shouldn't be surprisedif you had real good luck, Polly. And your ma'll set ever so much by it;now, if we only could find that receet!" and returning to the charge shecommenced to fumble among her bits of paper again; "I never shall forgethow they eat on it; why, there wasn't a crumb left, Polly!"

  "Oh, dear," said Polly, to whom "Mirandy's wedding cake" now became theheight of her desires; "if you only can find it! can't I climb up andlook on the pantry shelves?"

  "Maybe 'tis there," said Mrs. Bascom, slowly; "you might try; sometimesI do put things away, so's to have 'em safe."

  So Polly got an old wooden chair, according to direction, and thenmounted up on it, with grandma below to direct, she handed down bowlafter bowl, interspersed at the right intervals with cracked teacups andhandleless pitchers. But at the end of these explorations, "Mirandy'swedding cake" was further off than ever.

  "Tain't a mite o' use," at last said the old lady, sinking down indespair, while Polly perched on the top of the chair and looked at her;"I must a-give it away."

  "Can't I have the next best one, then?" asked Polly, despairingly,feeling sure that "Mirandy's wedding cake" would have celebrated the dayjust right; "and I must hurry right home, please," she added, gettingdown from the chair, and tying on her hood; "or Phronsie won't know whatto do."

  So another "receet" was looked over, and selected; and with manycharges, and bits of advice not to let the oven get too hot, etc., etc.,Polly took the precious bit in her hand, and flew over home.

  "Now, we've got to--" she began, bounding in merrily, with dancing eyes;but her delight had a sudden stop, as she brought up so suddenly atthe sight within, that she couldn't utter another word. Phronsie wascrouching, a miserable little heap of woe, in one corner of the mother'sbig calico-covered rocking-chair, and crying bitterly, while Joel hungover her in the utmost concern.

  "What's the matter?" gasped Polly. Flinging the "receet" on the table,she rushed up to the old chair and was down on her knees before it, herarms around the little figure. Phronsie turned, and threw herself intoPolly's protecting arms, who gathered her up, and sitting down in thedepths of the chair, comforted her as only she could.

  "What is it?" she asked of Joel, who was nervously begging Phronsie notto cry; "now, tell me all that's happened."

  "I was a-nailing," began Joel; "oh dear! don't cry, Phronsie! do stopher, Polly."

  "Go on," said Polly, hoarsely.

  "I was a-nailing," began Joel, slowly; "and--and--Davie's gone to getthe peppermint," he added, brightening up.

  "Tell me, Joe," said Polly, "all that's been going on," and she lookedsternly into his face; "or I'll get Davie to," as little Davie camerunning back, with a bottle of castor oil, which in his flurry he hadmistaken for peppermint. This he presented with a flourish to Polly, whowas too excited to see it.

  "Oh, no!" cried Joel, in intense alarm; "Davie isn't going to! I'lltell, Polly; I will truly."

  "Go on, then," said Polly; "tell at once;" (feeling as if somebodydidn't tell pretty quick, she should tumble over.)

  "Well," said Joel, gathering himself up with a fresh effort, "the oldhammer was a-shaking and Phronsie stuck her foot in the way--and--Icouldn't help it, Polly--no, I just couldn't, Polly."

  Quick as a flash, Polly tore off the little old shoe, and well-wornstocking, and brought to light Phronsie's fat little foot. Tenderlytaking hold of the white toes, the boys clustering around in thegreatest anxiety, she worked them back and forth, and up and down."Nothing's broken," she said at last, and drew a long breath.

  "It's there," said Phronsie, through a rain of tears; "and it hurts,Polly;" and she began to wiggle the big toe, where around the nail wassettling a small black spot.

  "Poor little toe," began Polly, cuddling up the suffering foot. Justthen, a small and peculiar noise struck her ear; and looking up she sawJoel, with a very distorted face, making violent efforts to keep frombursting out into a loud cry. All his attempts, however, failed; andhe flung himself into Polly's lap in a perfect torrent of tears. "Ididn't--mean to--Polly," he cried; "'twas the--ugly, old hammer! ohdear!"

  "There, there, Joey, dear," said Polly, gathering him up in the othercorner of the old chair, close to her side; "don't feel bad; I know youdidn't mean to," and she dropped a kiss on his stubby black hair.

  When Phronsie saw that anybody else could cry, she stopped immediately,and leaning over Polly, put one little fat hand on Joel's neck. "Don'tcry," she said; "does your toe ache?"

  At this, Joel screamed louder than ever; and Polly was at her wit'send to know what to do; for the boy's heart was almost broken. That heshould have hurt Phronsie! the baby, the pet of the whole house, uponwhom all their hearts centered--it was too much. So for the next fewmoments, Polly had all she could do by way of comforting and consolinghim. Just as she had succeeded, the door opened, and Grandma Bascomwalked in.

  "Settin' down?" said she; "I hope your cake ain't in, Polly," lookinganxiously at the stove, "for I've found it;" and she waved a small pieceof paper triumphantly towards the rocking-chair as she spoke.

  "Do tell her," said Polly to little David, "what's happened; for I can'tget up."

  So little Davie went up to the old lady, and standing on tiptoe,screamed into her ear all the particulars he could think of, concerningthe accident that had just happened.

  "Hey?" said grandma, in a perfect bewilderment; "what's he a-sayin',Polly--I can't make it out."

  "You'll have to go all over it again, David," said Polly, despairingly;"she didn't hear one word, I don't believe."

  So David tried again; this time with better success. And then he gotdown from his tiptoes, and escorted grandma to Phronsie, in flushedtriumph.

  "Land alive!" said the old lady, sitting down in the chair which hebrought her; "you got pounded, did you?" looking at Phronsie, as shetook the little foot in her ample hand.

  "Yes'm," said Polly, quickly; "twasn't any one's fault; what'll we dofor it, grandma?"

  "Wormwood," said the old lady, adjusting her spectacles in extremedeliberation, and then examining the little black and blue spot, whichwas spreading rapidly, "is the very best thing; and I've got some tohome--you run right over," she said, turning round on David, quickly,"an' get it; it's a-hang-in' by the chimbley."

  "Let me; let me!" cried Joel, springing out of the old chair, sosuddenly that grandma's spectacles nearly dropped off in fright; "oh! Iwant to do it for Phronsie!"

  "Yes, let Joel, please," put in Polly; "he'll find it, grandma." So Joeldeparted with great speed; and presently returned, with a bunch of dryherbs, which dangled comfortingly by his side, as he came in.

  "Now I'll fix it," said Mrs. Bascom, getting up and taking off hershawl; "there's a few raisins for you, Polly; I don'
t want 'em, andthey'll make your cake go better," and she placed a little parcel on thetable as she spoke. "Yes, I'll put it to steep; an' after it's put onreal strong, and tied up in an old cloth, Phronsie won't know as she'sgot any toes!" and grandma broke up a generous supply of the herb, andput it into an old tin cup, which she covered up with a saucer, andplaced on the stove.

  "Oh!" said Polly; "I can't thank you! for the raisins and all--you're sogood!"

  "They're awful hard," said Joel, investigating into the bundle withDavie, which, however, luckily the old lady didn't hear.

  "There, don't try," she said cheerily; "an' I found cousin Mirandy'sweddin' cake receet, for--"

  "Did you?" cried Polly; "oh! I'm so glad!" feeling as if that werecomfort enough for a good deal.

  "Yes, 'twas in my Bible," said Mrs. Bascom; "I remember now; I put itthere to be ready to give John's folks when they come in; they wantedit; so you'll go all straight now; and I must get home, for I left somemeat a-boilin'." So grandma put on her shawl, and waddled off, leaving agreat deal of comfort behind her.

  "Now, says I," said Polly to Phronsie, when the little foot was snuglytied up in the wet wormwood, "you've got to have one of mamsie's oldslippers."

  "Oh, ho," laughed Phronsie; "won't that be funny, Polly!"

  "I should think it would," laughed Polly, back again, pulling on thebig cloth slipper, which Joel produced from the bedroom, the two boysjoining uproariously, as the old black thing flapped dismally up anddown, and showed strong symptoms of flying off. "We shall have to tie iton."

  "It looks like a pudding bag," said Joel, as Polly tied it securelythrough the middle with a bit of twine; "an old black pudding bag!" hefinished.

  "Old black pudding bag!" echoed Phronsie, with a merry little crow; andthen all of a sudden she grew very sober, and looked intently at thefoot thrust out straight before her, as she still sat in the chair.

  "What is it, Phronsie?" asked Polly, who was bustling around, makingpreparations for the cake-making.

  "Can I ever wear my new shoes again?" asked the child, gravely, lookingdismally at the black bundle before her.

  "Oh, yes; my goodness, yes!" cried Polly; "as quick again as ever;you'll be around again as smart as a cricket in a week--see if youaren't!"

  "Will it go on?" asked Phronsie, still looking incredulously at thebundle, "and button up?"

  "Yes, indeed!" cried Polly, again; "button into every one of the littleholes, Phronsie Pepper; just as elegant as ever!"

  "Oh!" said Phronsie; and then she gave a sigh of relief, and thought nomore of it, because Polly had said that all would be right.