Five Little Peppers and their Friends

  VII

  THE DISAPPOINTMENT

  "Will it stop, Grandpapa?" Phronsie, kneeling on a chair, her face pressedclose to the window pane, turned to old Mr. King, looking over hershoulder.

  "I'm afraid not, dear," he answered.

  "Doesn't God know we want to help the poor children?" she asked suddenly, asurprised look coming into her eyes.

  "Yes, yes, dear; of course he knows, child."

  "Then why does he let it rain?" cried Phronsie, in a hurt voice.

  "Oh, because, Pet, we must have rain, else the flowers wouldn't grow, youknow."

  "They're all grown," said Phronsie, trying to peer out into the thicktwilight between the great splashes of rain running down the window overtoward the garden, "and now we can't have our party to-morrow, Grandpapa,"she added sorrowfully.

  "No, it would be quite too wet, after this downpour, even if it clearedto-night," said the old gentleman decidedly. "Well, Phronsie, child, wemust just accept the matter philosophically."

  "What's philo--that big word, Grandpapa?" she asked, turning away from hereffort to catch sight of the flower-beds, off in the distance, gay with thewealth of blooms saved for the hoped-for festivities of the morrow, and sheput her arm around his neck.

  "Oh, that? It was a pretty large word to use to you, and that's a fact,"said the old gentleman, with a little laugh. He was having rather a hardtime of it to conceal his dismay at the blow to all the plans andpreparations so finely in progress for the garden party. "Well, it means wemust make the best of it all, and not fret."

  "Oh!" said Phronsie. Then she turned back to her window again, and surveyedthe driving storm.

  "Perhaps the flowers like it," she said, after a pause, when nothing washeard but the beating of the rain against the glass; "maybe they arethirsty, Grandpapa."

  "Yes, maybe," assented Grandpapa absently.

  "And if God wants it to rain, why we must be glad, mustn't we, Grandpapa,if he really wants it?"

  "Yes, yes, child," said the old gentleman hastily.

  "Then I'm glad," said Phronsie, with a long sigh, and she clambered downfrom her chair, "and let's find Polly and tell her so, Grandpapa."

  Over in the library there was a dismal group. Joel was fighting valiantlywith a flood of tears, doubling up his little fists and glaring at Percyand Van at the least intimation of a remark to him. Little Davie hadsuccumbed long ago, and now, crammed up in a small heap in the corner backof the sofa, was rivaling the storm outside, in the flood of tears hesupplied.

  Jasper crowded his hands in his pockets, marching up and down the longroom. Polly, who was swallowing hard, as if her throat hurt her, wouldn'tlook at one of the boys. Little Dick was openly wailing in his mother'sarms.

  "Oh, shut up that, kid, will you?" cried Percy, crossly, over at him.

  "Percy, Percy," said his mother gently.

  "Well, he needn't boo-hoo like a baby," said Percy; "we've all got to giveup the garden party."

  "We can't have any garden party," mumbled little Dick between his sobs, andcrying all over his mother's pretty blue silk waist.

  "There, there, dear," Mrs. Whitney said soothingly, "we'll have it the nextday, perhaps, Dicky boy."

  "Next day is just forever," whimpered little Dick. "Oh, dear! boo-hoo-hoo!"

  Percy started an impatient exclamation, thought better of it, and turned onhis heel abruptly. But Van burst out:

  "And the flowers'll all be gone, so what's the use of trying to have itthen?"

  "They won't," cried Joel, in an angry scream, and squaring round at him."They shan't, so there, Van Whitney!" When the door opened and in walkedMr. King, and Phronsie clinging to his hand.

  "Oh, hush, boys!" cried Polly hoarsely, a wave of shame rising in a rosyflush up to her brow. Oh, why hadn't she tried to keep cheerful instead ofgiving way to the general gloom? And now here were Phronsie and dearGrandpapa, who had ordered "just oceans of flowers" and everything else.Oh, dear, how naughty she had been! She sprang away from the big, carvedtable, over to take Phronsie's hand.

  "The flowers are thirsty, Polly, I guess," said Phronsie, looking up at herwith a smile; "and when they drink all they want to, why, we'll have theparty, won't we, Polly?"

  "Yes," said Polly, the flush not dying down.

  "Then that'll be nice, I think," said Phronsie, smoothing down her gown insatisfaction, "and I can finish my cushion-pin now"; for there was onelittle corner still untraveled by the remarkable design observed by theworker. But Mr. Hamilton Dyce had protested he didn't care for any suchtrifling deficiency, for he could put more pins in that quarter, so heshould still be its purchaser.

  "So you can," cried Polly, with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, andwinking furiously over at the boys.

  "And we can write more letters," cried Jasper suddenly, springing over toPhronsie's side.

  "Phoo!" exclaimed Joel, "we've got bushels already."

  "Well, it's nice to have more yet," retorted Jasper, "so you better keepstill, old fellow."

  "I shall write some more," announced Van, with great pomposity, struttingup and down the room.

  "Hoh-hoh!" laughed Joel, snapping his fingers in derision, "you haven'tfinished one yet, and beside, who can read your chicken tracks?"

  "I have, too," declared Van, very red in the face, ignoring the reflectionon his writing and plunging over to Jasper. "Haven't I, Jasper, written aletter for the post office? Say, haven't I?"--gripping him by thejacket-sleeve.

  "Yes, you have," said Jasper. "He handed it in this afternoon," he added,nodding to the group.

  "There, you see." Van rushed triumphantly up in front of Joel. "You see,Joel Pepper, so you've just got to take that back."

  "Well, only one," said Joel, "and there can't any one read it, so that's nogood."

  "And I wrote some letters," cried Phronsie, running away from the littlecircle to thrust her face in between the two boys. "I did, all by myself.One, two, ten, I guess."

  Little Dick at that stopped sniveling, and slipped off from his mother'slap. "I did, too, write some, ten, three, 'leven, just as many as you did."The tears trailed off from his red cheeks as he bobbed his heademphatically.

  So no one heard quick steps along the hall, and the door being thrown wideby the butler, saying, "They're all in the library." In came Miss MaryTaylor and Mr. Hamilton Dyce.

  "We thought we'd drop in," said the gentleman, with a quick glance at MissMary, as if to say, "You see, they didn't need us after all, to help cheerup."

  "Why, how very jolly you all are!" observed Miss Mary. The rain-drops wereglistening on her hair and cheeks, where she had scampered away from theprotecting umbrella at the foot of the steps. "Oh, I'm not wet, Mrs.Fisher"--Mother Fisher at this moment coming in with her mending basket."I left my mackintosh in the hall."

  "Well, well," exclaimed Mr. Hamilton Dyce. Joel had left sparring with Vanand now swarmed around the newcomer, for he was extremely fond of him. "Howare the letters coming on, Jasper? By the way, I've a few belated ones, inthe pockets in my coat out in the hall. I'll get them."

  "Let me--let me," screamed Joel.

  "All right, go ahead. In both side pockets, Joe." He didn't consider itnecessary to explain that Miss Taylor and he had been busy driving theirpens all the afternoon.

  "Whickets!" cried Joel, rushing back, both hands overflowing, "what a lot!"

  "Joel, what did you say?" Mother Fisher glanced up, the lines of worry thathad settled over her face at the terrible disappointment that had befallenthe family, disappearing, now that the usual cheeriness was coming back.

  "I didn't mean to," said Joel, the color all over his chubby face, "but my,see what a lot! The post office won't hold 'em all!"

  "We'll put them with the others," cried Jasper, "and thank you, oh, somuch, Mr. Dyce; we can't have too many. Come on, all of you, and see ourpile"--running out into the hall, headed for his den.

  "You must thank Miss Mary," said Mr. Dyce.

  But Miss Mary laughingly protesting the gra
titude was not so much due toher, the whole company filed out after Jasper in great good spirits.

  Little Davie, back of the sofa, poked up his head.

  "Are they all gone, Mamsie?" he asked fearfully.

  "Why, Davie, my boy!" exclaimed Mother Fisher, much startled, and layingdown her needle, stuck in a stocking-heel, "I thought you were upstairswith Ben."

  "I haven't been with Ben." said David, working his way out, to run and layhis swollen little face in his mother's lap. She cleared away her work, andtook him up, to gather him close in her arms.

  "There, there, Davie, mother's boy, it's all right"--smoothing the hairaway from the hot brow--"we can have the garden party another day, andthen perhaps there'll be all the more pleasure and good time."

  "Tisn't that," said little Davie, wriggling around to look up at her, "butPolly--" and for a moment it seemed as if the floods were to descend again.

  "Oh, Polly is all right," said Mrs. Fisher cheerfully.

  "Is, she, Mamsie?" asked David doubtfully.

  "Yes, indeed, and you must see that you keep yourself right. That's all anyof us can do," said Mother Fisher. "Now, Davie, my boy, hop down and runinto Jasper's den with the others."

  "Oh, I can't, Mamsie," protested Davie, in horror, and burrowing in herarms, "they'll see I've been crying."

  "That's the trouble with crying," observed Mother Fisher wisely; "it makesyou twice sorry--once when you're doing it, and the next time when itshows. You can't help it now, Davie, so run along. Mother wants you to."

  If Mother wanted them to, that was always enough for each of the "FiveLittle Peppers," so Davie slid slowly down from her lap, and went out anddown the hall.

  Meantime Miss Mary had taken Polly's arm in the procession to Jasper's den.

  "Oh, Polly, how cheery you have made them!" she exclaimed. "We expected tosee you all perhaps drowned in tears."

  "Oh, I haven't done it--anything to make them happy," cried Polly, the waveof color again flooding her cheeks; "indeed I haven't, Miss Mary. I've beenbad and wicked and horrid," she said penitently, her head drooping.

  "Oh, no, Polly," protested Miss Mary, her arm around Polly's waist.

  "Yes I have, Miss Mary, I----"

  "Well, don't let us talk now about it; we will look at the letters." MissMary drew her within the den. There stood Jasper behind the table perfectlyoverflowing with epistles of every sort and size, while little packages,and some not so very little, either, filled up all the receptacles possiblefor mail matter.

  "Oh, my, what a lot!" exclaimed everybody, as Joel with a dash precipitatedhis handfuls on the already long-suffering pile.

  "This is only the beginning," laughed Jasper, waving his arms over, tocompass the whole den. "Just look on the top of the bookcase, will you?"

  Everybody whirled around.

  "Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Grandpapa, at the sight. Letters were scatteredhere and there in the thickest of piles all along the surface, while theChinese vase had a whole handful poking up their faces as if to say, "Herewe are, all the way from China."

  "Dear me," exclaimed old Mr. King again, "when do you ever expect to sellall those, Jasper?"

  "Mine is in there," announced Phronsie, hanging to his hand and pointing tothe vase. "Grandpapa, it really is; Japser put it there."

  "Did he, Pet?" cried the old gentleman, immensely interested.

  "Yes, he did truly," said Phronsie, bobbing her head emphatically. "I sawhim my own self, Grandpapa. _And it's to you_." She stood on hertiptoes and whispered the last bit of information.

  "No, is it?" cried Grandpapa, highly gratified; and, lifting her up to alevel with his face, he kissed her on both cheeks. "Now, Phronsie, I shallalways keep that letter," he said, as he set her down.

  "Shall you?" cried Phronsie, smoothing her gown with great satisfaction."Then I'm so glad I wrote it, Grandpapa."

  Over by the table Jasper was saying to Polly:

  "Now what shall we do with this dreadfully long evening? Do hurry andthink, Polly, before everybody gets dismal again."

  "Oh, I don't know," said Polly, at her wit's end.

  "But we must think of something," said Jasper desperately, and fumbling theletters.

  Polly's eye fell on his restless fingers.

  "We might sort them out, the letters, and tie them up in little packages totake out to the post office."

  "The very thing!" cried Jasper enthusiastically. "Here, all you goodpeople"--he whirled around--"if you want to help, please sit down, andwe'll get this mess of letters sorted and tied up into bundles." He wavedhis hands over his head, and of course everybody stopped talking at once.

  "Oh, whickets!" Joel screamed; then he caught Polly's eye, and his chubbyface took on a lively red. "Let me--let me!" He crammed himself in betweenJasper and the table.

  "Hold on!" commanded Jasper, "not so fast, Joe," and he seized Joel's brownhands just grabbing a big pile.

  "Wait till Jasper tells us how to begin," said Polly, her brown eyesdancing at the prospect of something to do.

  "Oh, dear!" whimpered Joel, stamping in his impatience. The Whitney boyswere crowding up close behind. "Do hurry up, Jasper," they teased.

  "Well, how shall we begin, Polly?" Jasper wrinkled up his brows inperplexity.

  "Let's ask Miss Mary," said Polly. So Jasper called, "Miss Mary!" but shedidn't seem to hear, which perhaps wasn't so very strange, after all, asMr. Dyce was telling her something which must have been very interesting,over in the corner. When at last the summons reached her, she came hurryingover with very pink cheeks. "Oh, what can I do to help?"

  "We've been calling and calling for ever so long," said Joel, in a veryinjured tone, for he had added his voice when he saw that things werewaiting for Miss Taylor.

  "Oh, have you, Joel? That's too bad." Miss Mary's cheeks became pinker thanever.

  "Well, you are always screaming over something, Joe, you beggar"--Mr. Dycepulled his ear--"so it's no wonder that your cries are not attended to onthe instant."

  When Miss Mary saw what was wanted of her, she proposed that Jasper giveout twelve letters to each person, who should tie them up neatly, and putin a big basket. Then they would be ready to take out to the post office inthe Wistaria arbor, and to be sorted into the little boxes which Grandpapahad commissioned the carpenter to make all up and down the sides, leavingone end free for the delivery window. The door for the postmaster and hisassistants was to be at the opposite corner.

  "Oh, yes, how nice!" exclaimed Polly, hopping up and down as ecstaticallyas Phronsie ever did. "Jasper, I'll get a ball of twine," and she wasflying off.

  "No, you stay here and help me give out the letters," said Jasper.

  "Oh, I want to do that," cried Joel, squeezing and crowding.

  "No, you must get the big basket," said Jasper. "Go and ask Thomas to giveyou one."

  "I don't want to get an old basket," whined Joel; "let Percy get it."

  "Hoh! I'm not going to," declared Percy, drawing himself up in great state.

  "Then I will go myself," said Jasper, flinging down a handful of letters,to hurry off.

  "Joel," said Polly, in a sorry little voice, and turning away from thetable, "now you will spoil everything, and we've just got to feeling good.How can you, Joey!"

  "I didn't mean--" began Joel, turning his back on her, while he winked veryhard, "I didn't mean to, Polly."

  Percy dug the toe of his shoe into the rug, and looked down on the floor.

  "Then run after Jasper," cried Polly; "hurry, and tell him so."

  "I will," cried Joel, plunging off, and Percy, being left alone, as Van hadslid away to another group when he saw how things were going on, concludedto follow. And presently Jasper came back.

  "It's all right, Polly," he nodded brightly to her, and they fell to work.

  And in a minute or two, Joel came back with Percy, carrying the basket, abig market affair, between them. And when he saw what fun they were havingover it, for they were both laughing merrily, Van wished he
had gone.

  And seeing his dismal face, Jasper sent him after a ball of twine. And thenPhronsie wanted to get something, and little Dick teased to go too, soGrandpapa suggested they should go after some extra pairs of scissors.

  "And Mamsie will let us take hers out of her workbasket, I guess," criedPhronsie. "Let us ask her, Grandpapa dear."

  "Oh, you better stop working, Mrs. Fisher." Old Mr. King popped his whitehead in at the library door. There sat Mother Fisher by the table, mendingaway as usual, for the stockings never seemed to be quite done. "And comeinto Jasper's den and see how fine we all are!" he added gayly.

  "Yes, Mamsie, do come," chirped Phronsie, running her head in between himand the door-casing to plead.

  "Yes, Mamsie, do come," echoed little Dick, who would do and say everythingthat Phronsie did.

  "You see, you've simply got to come," laughed Grandpapa.

  "And may we have your scissors, Mamsie?" Phronsie now deserted old Mr.King, to run over to the big workbasket.

  "My scissors?" repeated Mother Fisher. "Why, Phronsie, child, what are yougoing to do with them?"

  "We're going to cut letters," said Phronsie, with an important air, herfingers already in the basket, which, standing on tiptoe, she had pulledquickly over toward her in her eagerness. "And may we have your scissors,Mamsie?"

  "Take care," warned Mother Fisher, but too late. Over went the big basket,and away rattled all the things, having a perfectly beautiful time bythemselves over the library floor.

  "Bless me!" ejaculated old Mr. King, while little Dick laughed right out.

  Phronsie stood quite still, the color all out of her round cheeks. Then herbosom heaved, and she darted over to lay her head in Mother Fisher's lap.

  "Oh, I didn't mean to, Mamsie," she wailed.

  "Oh, deary me! bless me!" exclaimed Grandpapa, in the greatestconsternation, and leaning over the two.

  "There, there, don't mind it, deary." Mother Fisher was smoothing theyellow hair.

  "Take me, Mamsie," begged Phronsie, holding up both hands, and she burrowedher face deeper yet in Mrs. Fisher's lap.

  "Oh, dear me!" old Mr. King kept exclaiming. Then he pulled out hishandkerchief and mopped his face violently. This not making him feel anybetter, he kept exclaiming, "Oh, dear me!" at intervals.

  "I'll pick 'em up," said little Dick cheerfully, beginning to race afterthe spools and things over the floor.

  Mother Fisher had drawn Phronsie up to her bosom, where she cuddled her toher heart's content. "Now, child," she said, after a minute, "I think youought to help to pick up the things and put them in the basket. See hownicely Dicky is doing it."

  "I'm getting all the spools," announced Dick, jamming all the chairs asidethat he could move, and lifting a very hot face. "Yes, sir-ee! Come,Phronsie."

  "I think you ought to help him, Phronsie."

  So Phronsie slipped out of her mother's lap obediently, and wiped off hertears.

  "Come on," said little Dick, in great glee. "I'm going under the table;there's a lot under there."

  And in shorter time than it takes to tell it, the spools, and mendingcotton, and tape measure, and, dear me! the ever-so-many things of whichMrs. Fisher's big workbasket was always full, were all collected from thenice time they were having on the floor, and snugly set up in their placesagain. And Mother Fisher, escorted by the children and old Mr. King, who bythis time was laughing quite gayly once more, was going out into the hall,on the way to Jasper's den. And Phronsie had the big cutting-out shears,and little Dick the smaller, little snipping-thread scissors.

  "Hullo!" Mr. King called out, as the butler ushered into the hall twogentlemen, in dripping mackintoshes. "Now that's fine, Cabot and Alstyne,to drop in of this dismal evening."

  "We've called to condole with you all," said both gentlemen, as they weredivested of their wet garments, "but it doesn't seem as if our serviceswere needed"--with a glance at Grandpapa and his group.

  "Oh, my family gets over any little disappointment such as bad weather,"observed the old gentleman, with pride. "Well, come this way, the principalobject of interest is in Jasper's den; no need to announce it"--as thepeals of laughter and chatter sounded down the long hall.