Books: The Adventures of Joel Pepper
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Margaret Sidney >> The Adventures of Joel Pepper
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"Oh, Joel," screamed Polly from the ground, looking at him
piteously, "do come down, dear!" But he really didn't hear now.
It seemed to him if he didn't work to the very last, he could
never look Mamsie in the face again, so he was now on the other
side of the chimney, where the fire was the hottest.
"It's an even chance, if we save it," Joel heard one of the
firemen say; "it's got in between the joints. See!"
"Then we've got to cut just that spot," said the big red-headed
man, who, by reason of being on hand first, was considered to be
the leader, and he swung his axe over his head. "Crash!" went
the little brown roof. At the sound, Polly dragged Phronsie over
to David's side.
"Now, then, in with the water lively, boys, and splash her out,"
cried the big red-headed man, who very much liked being a leader.
And thereupon he stopped working, and set the others at it in
such a brisk fashion that the water ran down in perfect rivers
all over the roof, one or two of the streams soaking through, to
drop into Ben's and Joel's and David's bedroom in the loft.
"It's out! It's out!" bawled some of the firemen on the roof to
the men and boys. "You don't need to send up any more water."
"Look behind you!" screamed the boy who had first discovered the
fire. He seemed to have eyes in the back of his head, and the
firemen, whirling around, saw a little tongue of flame shooting
determinedly up. It had run along underneath the shingles and
hopped at the first chance it could get. So the buckets of water
had to keep on flying up, to come down and be filled. Up and
down, up and down, till Polly sank on the grass, unable to bear
it another bit longer. "Oh, if I weren't a girl," she moaned
passionately, "then I could be up there, and I know I'd save the
little brown house. Oh, Mamsie! Mamsie!"
"Don't fret, Polly," said a good woman living in the village,--for
by this time a long procession of men, women, and children
had hurried in, crowding and jamming into the yard,--"ef it
burns down, you shall all come to our house an' stay a spell,
till you get another one."
"Don't," cried Polly, passionately, and shrinking off; "we can't
live, if the little brown house goes. Oh, Mamsie! Mamsie!" and
she sobbed as if her heart would break, and covered her face
with her hands.
"Don't cry, Polly," and Phronsie's little hand crept softly up
to her neck. But Polly couldn't stop. If there had been anything
for her to do, she would have kept up, but to sit there and see
the little brown house burn up, and know because she was a girl
there was no place for her on the roof--why, there she was,
sobbing as if her heart would break, and Phronsie clinging
piteously to her neck.
A ringing shout struck upon her ear. "It's coming!" shivered
Polly; "the roof's tumbling in!" and she hid her face lower yet.
Wouldn't God stop the dreadful fire ever yet. He must, for
Mamsie said He loved to help all His children. And--
"Hooray, Polly!" called Joel in her ear, putting a very black
face up close to her pale one. "Don't you understand? It's all
out. It is, truly, this time, every single squinchin' bit."
But Polly didn't understand, and they laid her back on the grass,
and one woman said, "Get a pamleaf fan," and another cried,
"Get th' water in that pail there," pointing to one not used, on the
grass. And everybody got in everybody else's way, and crowded
around her, and the water was dashed over her face till she was
in a little pool of it, and still she didn't open her eyes. And
Phronsie wailed and clung to her, getting as wet, so a thin
woman remarked, "as a drownded rat," and David was on the other
side, nearly as bad. As for Joel, he rushed up and down,
completely gone with fright. After all his brave fight, to have
Polly give out was something so very dreadful he couldn't think
of it.
"Here comes Mrs. Pepper," said somebody, and, "Thank the Lord,"
said another, and down the road in the doctor's gig, the little
doctor driving like mad, came Mamsie. They helped her out, and
she was in the yard, never looking at the little brown house;
for her black eyes were searching among the crowd, and her white
lips tried to frame some words.
"All safe, Marm," sang out the big redheaded man; "and you've
got some smart chaps," thinking he'd give all the comfort, and
at once, that was in his power.
"Polly ain't just well," spoke up somebody, sympathetically, and
in a minute Mamsie was down on the grass, with Polly's head in
her lap, the other children swarming around her, and Dr. Fisher
in the midst.
"Oh, I'm so ashamed," gasped Polly, coming to, and hiding her
face on Mrs. Pepper's breast.
"Don't you feel badly, Polly child," said Mamsie, smoothing her
brown hair gently; "you're all tired out. The little brown house
is all safe--just think of that!"
Polly thrust up her head and took one look. "Mamsie," she
whispered, holding to Mrs. Pepper's neck convulsively, "God did
stop the dreadful fire, didn't He?"
"He surely did," said Mrs. Pepper, looking around on all her
little group. The neighbors and townspeople, the firemen and the
crowd, stole silently off and left them there, but Dr. Fisher
stayed.
Suddenly Joel was missing. "Where is he?" asked Mrs. Pepper, a
fresh alarm gathering on her face.
"P'r'aps he's gone with the engine," piped up the boy who had
discovered the fire, and who seemed to think it his duty to
watch that it didn't break out again.
"Oh, no, Joel wouldn't do that," said Mrs. Pepper.
"I'll find him," said little Dr. Fisher, who had his own views
about Joel, after closely regarding his singed eyebrows and
black face; "lucky enough if he doesn't need considerable
patching up," he muttered to himself, as he strode off to
reconnoitre.
"There's no use in your hiding," he said aloud, as if talking to
some one. "So you might as well come out at once, and let me
know where you're hurt, Joe, and I'll fix you before your mother
sees you."
"I ain't hurt," said a voice from the lilac bushes.
"Oh, you are not?" said the little doctor, opening the bushes to
peer within, his spectacles setting well down on the end of his
nose, so that he looked over them. "That's good," and he soon
had Joel out. "Now then, I'll fix you up as good as ever," and
he rummaged his ample pockets for the things he had thrust into
them for this very work.
"I ain't hurt," said Joel, wriggling furiously.
"Stand still, Joe," said the little doctor, coolly, "for I'm
going to patch you up, so that you're decent to see your mother.
Aren't you ashamed to get this way when Polly, poor brave girl,
has been so sick? Why, what's the matter with you!" suddenly
giving Joel a whirl, so that he could look in his face.
Joel's face was working frightfully. "I 'most--burnt--the little
brown house--up," he gasped. "I made a fire in--the stove!"
XXV
JOEL SELLS SHOES FOR MR. BEEBE
The little doctor kept a firm hold on Joel's jacket, and gazed
keenly into his face. "Um!" he said.
"I wanted--to--to--help Polly," gasped Joel. "O dear me!" He was
a sight to behold, as the tears washed their way down the grimy
face, which was still working fearfully, as he tried to hold in
his sobs.
"So you thought you'd help Polly," said Dr. Fisher, kindly; "was
that it, Joel?"
"Yes," said Joel; "she'd put the putty in, and put it in----and----"
"Put the putty in?" repeated the little doctor, aghast.
"Yes, or Ben had."
"I never in all my life heard of burning putty in a stove," said
Dr. Fisher, helplessly, and setting his big spectacles again, as
if that might possibly assist him to understand.
"Oh, she didn't burn it," cried Joel, just as much astonished.
"Well, what did she do with it, then?" demanded Dr. Fisher.
"Dear me, I always supposed a stove was meant to burn things
in," and he waved his head helplessly, and regarded Joel with a
fixed stare.
"She stuck the putty in the holes," said Joel, very distinctly;
"don't you understand? Polly's stove is very old, and it's
cracked, and she says the air comes in and then the fire goes
down, so she has to stuff up all the mean old cracks. O dear me,
I wanted to help her," and off Joel went in another gust of
tears.
"I suppose Polly feels badly over her stove, sometimes,"
reflected Dr. Fisher, casting a very sharp glance on Joel. "I
really wonder if she does," he added carelessly.
"Feels badly!" exploded Joel. Then he took a good long look
around on all sides, and leaned over to whisper in the little
doctor's ear, "_She cries sometimes, Polly does_."
"No!" exclaimed Dr. Fisher.
"Yes, she does," declared Joel, shaking his stubby head
decidedly. "She cries dreadfully when Mamsie isn't looking. And
she didn't know that I saw her, either, only I peeked behind the
pantry door. And I wanted to--to--help her." He began to cry afresh
at the recollection.
"Joel," said Dr. Fisher, getting up suddenly, "you've got to
tell your mother how the little brown house got on fire."
"I know it," said Joel, but his head drooped, and his eyes fell.
"And the best way to right the wrong is to own up at once," said
the little doctor. "I suppose she's taught you that, eh, Joel?"
"Yes, sir," said Joel.
"Well, when you've got such a mother as you have, Joel,"
continued Dr. Fisher, "you better treat her as well as you know
how. So run along, and be quick with you," and Dr. Fisher gave
him a resounding clap on the shoulder, that sent Joe flying off
like a shot from a gun, while the little doctor stole off the
back way, and got into his gig, and drove off as fast as he
could, and thus escaped being thanked.
And the Badgertown folks got together and held a meeting in Mr.
Atkins' store that very evening, and said that it was a pity
that Mrs. Pepper, who was struggling so to bring up all those
five children, should have such a hard time. So each man put his
hand in his pocket and fished out some money; and the carpenters
came next day and mended up all the holes where the axe had cut
through the roof; and the whole house was cleaned and dried where
the water had run down, and then there was one dollar and forty-five
cents left over, for people had been so very generous.
"Just keep it, Mrs. Pepper," said the spokesman, "'twill come in
handy, most likely;" and Mrs. Pepper couldn't speak, she was
so taken aback. But they didn't seem to feel as if they hadn't
been thanked enough, as they all went back again into the
village.
Ben had been working in a distant wood-lot for Deacon Blodgett,
and so hadn't heard a word of the fire until he got into the
village, on his way home. Then he said he wouldn't believe it,
unless he should see for himself. So he ran every step of the
way home, and rushed in all out of breath. "What's happened?" he
demanded of the first person he met. This happened to be Polly.
"Oh, Ben!" she exclaimed, flinging her arms around him. And then
followed all the story.
And Ben continued to blink every now and then up at the ceiling,
varied by hurrying out to gaze at the, roof, when he would rub his
eyes. "Dear me, Polly!" he would exclaim, "it seems just like an
awful dream."
"I wish it was," sighed Polly, "and I guess Joel wishes so,
too."
But the next day, when the Badgertown people came with their
gift, then the five little Peppers changed about to the very
happiest children in the world! And as soon as the visitors had
gone, the whole bunch of Peppers just took hold of hands, and
danced like wild little things around the table where the pile
of silver quarters and ten cent pieces lay.
"Mamsie," said Polly, when at last they stopped to take breath,
"did you ever know of such good people in the world as our
Badgertown folks?"
"I'm sure I didn't," declared Mrs. Pepper, wiping her eyes. "May
the Lord reward them, for I'm sure I can't."
Polly suddenly left the ring of Peppers, and came close to her
mother. "Perhaps you can, sometime, Mamsie," she said soberly.
"I hope so," replied Mother Pepper. "Well, well look forward to it,
and take the chance, if it ever comes, you may be sure, Polly."
That night, when the little brown house was as still as a mouse,
Polly heard a loud scream come pealing down from the room in the
loft. Mrs. Pepper, strange to say, didn't hear it at all; poor
woman, she was very tired with her work, from which she had been
hurried so unceremoniously when the alarm of fire reached her,
and she had lain awake all the first part of the night with a
heart burdened with anxious care.
"Joel's dreaming all about the fire, most likely," said Polly to
herself. So she slipped on Mamsie's old wrapper, picking it up
so that she would not trip and tumble on her nose, as she sped
softly over the stairs.
"Joel, hush!" she said reprovingly, "you'll wake Mamsie and
Phronsie! Ben, do make him keep still!"
"I can't," said Ben, only half awake. "Hush up there, Joe!" and
he turned over a very sleepy face, and tried to look at Polly.
"'Tisn't me," said Joel, in high dudgeon; "I ain't a 'fraid-cat."
And Polly stared to see David sitting on the edge of the
bed he shared with Joel, and tucking up his feet well under
him, while he shook with terror as he cried shrilly, "They're
running all up my legs!"
"Poor little thing!" exclaimed Polly, sitting down on the other
edge of the bed, at the risk of getting on Joel's toes. "He's
frightened," to the others. "I s'pose you've been dreaming,
Davie."
"No, no!" cried Davie, huddling up worse than ever. "There goes
one of 'em now!" he exclaimed suddenly, and pointed toward Polly;
"he's just running under Mamsie's wrapper!"
Polly hopped off the bed in her liveliest fashion, while from
under Mamsie's wrapper scuttled a black object over the bedquilt
in the opposite direction. "What is it?" she cried, beginning to
shake violently herself; "O dear me! are there any more of
them?"
"Yes," said Davie, "there are lots and lots, Polly. O dear me!"
He couldn't twist himself into a smaller knot than he was, so
there he sat, as miserable as possible, with the tears rolling
down his face.
"Joel!" cried Polly, giving that individual a little poke in the
back, as he appeared to be going off to sleep again, "you can
tell about these black things! I must know; so what is it?"
"Let me go to sleep," grunted Joel, twisting away from her
fingers.
"No," said Polly, firmly, "I shan't, Joey Pepper. What are those
black things that Davie--O dear me, there is another one!" and
Polly hopped back upon the bed, for there was a second black
creature steering straight for her in the dim light.
Joel gave a long restful sigh. "Do let me alone," he said
crossly. But Polly leaned over and shook his shoulder smartly.
"See here, now," cried Ben, roused by all this, "you just sit up
in bed, Mister Joel, and tell Polly all you know about this
business. Do you hear?" And suddenly over came Ben's pillow
flying through the air, to tumble over Joel's chubby nose.
"Nothin' to tell," declared Joel, again; but he sat up in bed.
"So you said before," said Polly; "but these black things got up
here somehow, and you know all about it, I'm sure. So you've
just got to tell all about it, Joel Pepper."
"It's crickets!" blurted Joel, suddenly, "an' Dave an' me brought 'em
to put in Ben's bed, an'--"
"Thank you," interrupted Ben, and, "Oh, Davie," reprovingly said
Polly.
"I'm sorry," said little Davie, wriggling up his toes; "I didn't
know they hopped so bad. Oh, Polly, they're all running up my
legs," he cried with another burst.
"Never mind," said Polly, quite reassured, "they're nothing but
dear, nice little crickets. I don't care, now; but it's dreadful
to see black things in the middle of the night, when you don't
know what they are."
"I don't like 'em, Polly," wailed David. "I'd rather they'd be
out of doors."
"But you helped to bring 'em in," said Polly. "How could you,
Davie?" she added reproachfully.
"Dave didn't 'xactly help," said Joel, uneasily. "I told him
he'd got to, Polly," he added honestly.
"Oh, I see," said Polly. "Well, now, Davie, you're going
downstairs to get into Mamsie's bed."
"Oh, goody!" cried Davie, smiling through his tears; and
stepping gingerly out of bed on the tips of his toes, lest he
should meet a black cricket unawares, he skipped to the head
of the stairs.
"Shake your clothes," called Polly, in a smothered voice,
fearful lest Mamsie and Phronsie should wake up. Thereupon she
began to shake the old wrapper violently. "We mustn't carry any
of 'em downstairs," she said, while Joel set up a howl.
"Oh, I don't want Dave to go downstairs and leave me," he whined.
"Yes, you can stay up here with your crickets," said Polly,
coolly, having shaken off any possibility of one remaining on
Mamsie's wrapper.
"And to-morrow morning you just step around lively and pick 'em
all up and carry 'em out doors," said Ben, before turning over
for another nap. "Good night, Polly."
"Good night, Ben," said Polly, softly, going downstairs after
Davie, who was pattering ahead, "and good night, Joey."
"Good night," snivelled Joel. "O dear me, I don't want Dave to
go. Well, anyway, he ain't goin' away ever again, Polly Pepper--so
there!"
The next morning, as soon as it was light enough to see them,
Joel picked up all his crickets. It was no easy matter, for they
made him an awful piece of work, hopping and jumping into all
the corners; and, just as soon as his thumb and fingers were on
them--away they were off again. But Ben had said every one must
go. So at it Joel kept, until the perspiration just rolled from
his tired, hot face.
"I don't like 'em, Polly," he confided, when the last one was
escorted out of doors, "and I ain't ever goin' to bring one in
again."
"I wouldn't, Joe," said Polly, "and it isn't nice to scare folks,
I think."
"I think so, too," said Phronsie, with a wise nod of her yellow
head, as she sat on the floor, playing with David.
"Think what, Phronsie?" cried Joel, suddenly.
"What Polly said," replied Phronsie, patting Seraphina, who was
being shown the pictures in a bit of old newspaper that David
was pretending to read.
"Hoh! Hoh!" cried Joel, bursting into a laugh. "You don't know
whatever you're talking about, Phron. Does she, Polly?"
"Don't tease her," said Polly; but Phronsie didn't hear, being
absorbed in correcting Seraphina, who had wobbled over on her
back instead of sitting up elegantly to view the pictures.
Joel ran down the next day to see Mrs. Beebe, Mother Pepper
giving the long-desired permission. Davie had a little sore
throat, and he much preferred to stay near Mamsie's chair.
"Now, Joe, remember to be good," warned Mother Pepper, the last
thing, when he had been washed and dressed and brushed and
declared quite prepared.
"I'm going to be always good," declared Joel. "I ain't ever
going to be like Ab'm," he added in disgust.
"Joel," reproved Mrs. Pepper, sternly, "don't judge other folks;
it's enough for you to do to look out for yourself."
Joel hung his head, abashed.
"Well, good-by," said Mrs. Pepper, the stern lines on her face
breaking into a smile.
"Good-by, Mamsie!" Joel flew back suddenly, to throw his arms
around her neck, then he rushed up to do the same thing to Polly,
and then to Phronsie.
"Don't kiss David," said his mother, "'cause you may take his
throat."
"Then I want to kiss him," cried Joel. "Mayn't I, Mammy?" he
wheedled. "I don't want Dave to have it."
"Oh, he'd have it just as much," said Mrs. Pepper, sewing away
for dear life.
"How could he?" cried Joel, in great astonishment, and standing
quite still. "Say, Mammy, how could he, if I took it?"
"You'd find if you took it there'd be quite enough sore throat
for two," answered Mrs. Pepper. "Well, run along, Joe, you
wouldn't understand, and 'tisn't necessary that you should; only
you are to do as I say, that's all."
So Joel ran off, waving a good-by to David; and since he was not
allowed to kiss him, he gave a rousing "Hooray," which delighted
little Davie greatly, as he stood, his face pressed to the
window, to see him go.
Once within Mrs. Beebe's home, it was enchantment enough. It was
a good afternoon for the shoe business, Mr. Beebe having two
customers. One of them was a very fussy woman who had a small
boy in charge. Joel was in high glee at being called upon to
help lift down ever so many boxes, until pretty near every shoe in
the stock was tried on. Mrs. Beebe kept coming out of the little
parlor at the back of the shop, and saying, "Ain't you through
with Joel yet, Pa?" all of which made Joel feel very important,
indeed, and almost decided him to keep a shoe shop, when he grew
up, instead of being a stage-coach driver.
"No," said Mr. Beebe, shortly, "I ain't through with him, Ma.
He's a master hand at getting them boxes down."
"Hain't you got a pair a little mite broader across the toes?"
asked the woman. "Stand up and stamp in 'em, Johnny." So Johnny
stood up and stamped in the new shoes.
"Real hard," said his mother. So he stamped real hard.
"I'd druther have another pair a mite broader," said the woman,
discontentedly.
"I showed you some broader ones," said old Mr. Beebe. "Well,
Joel, my boy, you'll have to climb up and hand down that box up
in the corner. P'r'aps some of those will suit."
So Joel, who wished he could be there every day in the year, and
that that woman would all the time bring in boys who wanted different
shoes from any that Mr. Beebe had, climbed up like a squirrel and
brought the box to Mr. Beebe.
"Now, Marm," said the shoe-store keeper, deftly whipping a good
roomy pair, "I guess these are about what you want," and he
laughed cheerily.
"No, they ain't either," said Johnny's mother, snappishly taking
them, and viewing them critically, "they're big as all out doors,
Mr. Beebe."
"Well, he wants 'em to wear out o' doors, don't he?" said Mr.
Beebe, "so I guess they'll suit, at last."
"Well, they won't," said the woman, "an' you needn't try 'em on,
Johnny. They're a sight bigger'n they orter be. I guess I can
tell soon's I see a shoe."
"Can't Joel come now, Pa?" asked old Mrs. Beebe, presenting her
cap-border in the doorway again. It was quite fine, with new
pink ribbons which she had put on because she had company.
"Yes, pretty soon, Ma," replied her husband, quite worn out.
"Well, I'm sure I'm sorry I can't suit you, Marm," turning to
the woman, "but I honestly can't, for I've shown you every
shoe in my shop. Here, Joel, we'll begin and pack 'em up again,"
he said, sorting the pairs out from the pile on the counter that ran
across the side of the shop, and slinging them by the string that
tied them together, over his arm.
"I'll see that pair," said the woman, suddenly, touching one as
it dangled over Mr. Beebe's arm.
"All right, Marm," said Mr. Beebe, most obligingly. So he knelt
down before Johnny again, and pulled on the shoes, and Johnny's
mother told the boy to stand up and stamp in 'em, all of which
was performed, and old Mr. Beebe got up and pulled out his
bandanna and wiped his hot face.
"Now that's somethin' like," said the woman, with a bob of her
head, while her little eyes twinkled. "I guess I know the right
shoe, as well as the next one. Why didn't you show 'em to me
before?" she snapped.
"You've had them shoes on twice before," said Mr. Beebe, "or at
least the boy has, and first they were too broad, and then they
were too narrer."
"Well, I'll take 'em, anyway, now," said the woman, laying down
the money, "and I guess I know, as well as the next one, whether
my boy's tried on shoes or not."
"Now, Joel," said old Mr. Beebe, when the little green door with
its jangling bell had really closed on her and on Johnny, "as
soon as we get these shoes back again in the boxes, you better
run into th' parler, 'cause Ma's been a-waitin' considerable."
Joel, much divided in his mind whether he would rather stay in
the shop altogether, with the delightful shoes, or go out and
spend half of the time with Mrs. Beebe and the doughnuts and
pink and white sticks he felt almost sure were waiting for him,
came to the conclusion that he really couldn't decide which was
the more delightful; and then the shop-door bell jangled again,
and there was another customer.
This time it was a little thin old man, and although he came
from another town, he seemed to be a great friend of Mr. Beebe's,
who now joyfully welcomed him.
"Well, I declare, if 'tain't Obadiah Andrews!" exclaimed the
shoe-shop keeper, radiantly, taking a good look at the newcomer.
"I haven't seen you for a week o' Sundays, Obadiah."
"Nor I hain't seen you," declared the little man, just as well
pleased, and sitting down gladly. "I'm most beat out, a-gittin'
here, so I want some new shoes, Jotham, and I cal'late I'll get
'em about as nice as they make 'em here."
"I cal'late so, too, Obadiah," said old Mr. Beebe, rubbing his
hands together in a pleased way. "Now, Joel, we'll get down all
the shoes on this side," and he ambled across the shop, "an' you
can put up the boys' sizes, afterwards, if you want to."
"Pa, ain't you most through with Joel? Oh, why, here's Mr.
Andrews!" exclaimed Mrs. Beebe. Then she came into the little
shop and sat down, while Mr. Beebe and Joel got out the shoes
that were to be tried on. "It's so nice that I can pass the time
o' day with you, meanwhilst," she observed.
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