Ben was mending Mother Pepper’s washboard.

“Well, go on,” said Joel ungraciously, his mouth watering for the cake with pink on top; “but I don’t b’lieve Johnny ever had all that, every day and Sunday.”

“Well, you must believe it,” said Polly, shaking her brown head at him; “or I’m not going to sit here telling you stories. Joey Pepper, you must act as if you believed every single word I say, else you won’t be polite.”

“Oh, I’ll believe it,” exclaimed Joel in alarm at the thought of Polly’s stories ceasing. “I[63] wish I had some of the cake with the pink on top, now, I do. Tell on, Polly.”

“And I,” said Phronsie putting out a little hand; “I wish I had some too, Polly, I do.”

“Well, we haven’t any of us got any,” said Polly. “But I’ll tell you all about Johnny’s. Sit still, Pet, you joggle me so I can’t sew straight; and these seams must be done before Mamsie gets home, else she’ll sit up to-night to do ’em.”

[64]

Polly was stitching away on one of the sacks that Mrs. Pepper had promised Mr. Atkins she would take down to the store on the morrow, her needle rushing in and out briskly; and she glanced up at the old clock. “Oh, dear me! if I don’t hurry, I sha’n’t get to the time when Johnny’s