Читать книгу Ben Pepper (Musaicum Christmas Specials) - Sidney Margaret - Страница 5

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"I want Polly," Phronsie was saying, wholly lost now to the fact that the "really truly cat" for Grandpapa had not been found. "Bensie, I do!"

"Yes, Phronsie," Ben made out to say, holding her hand fast; "we'll see her pretty soon."

"She's lost!" cried Joel, wildly, who up to this time had been so diverted by the bewildering array of tin soldiers, drums, and express wagons displayed on all sides as they threaded their way in among the crowds that surrounded the counters and shelves, that he hadn't given his mind to anything else. "She's lost, Polly is!" he ended with a howl.

At this direful announcement Phronsie gave one cry, then she sat right down on the floor and lifted up her voice, "I want Polly!"

It was impossible to quiet her, and everybody in the immediate vicinity turned and stared. A small girl, trying to decide between a woolly dog and a pig, both of whose charms had held her for the past ten minutes, laid them down on the counter and ran over to the place where the cry came from. When she saw the little group she pushed in between them. "O dear me!" she cried to Phronsie, sitting there in a small heap and sobbing pitifully, "how'd she get hurt?"

Little David made way for her instantly, but Joel, who had stopped his wails in surprise at her appearance, stood his ground. "Go away," he said, his black eyes shining through his tears.

The small girl paid no attention to him. "How'd she get hurt?" she kept on asking.

"She isn't hurt," said Ben, not looking up as he knelt on the floor and wiped Phronsie's streaming tears with his handkerchief. "There, there, Phronsie, stop crying."

"O dear me!" exclaimed the girl; "what a little goose to cry!" and she laughed derisively.

"She isn't a goose," cried Joel, in a loud, injured tone; "my sister isn't a goose; so now you just take that back, you girl, you!"

"Joel," commanded Ben, sternly, "stop this moment," just as a floor-walker stalked up. "You're blocking the way," he said with a great deal of official manner, "and you must just take yourselves off out of this aisle."

Little David, who up to this time, clasping and unclasping his hands nervously, had said nothing, now looked up into the cross face. "We've lost Polly," he exclaimed.

The floor-walker, not understanding, repeated to Ben, "You've just got to get out of this aisle."

But the small girl had heard. "O dear me!" she exclaimed again; "now that's perfectly dreadful," and she sat right down by Phronsie's side. "I'll go and find her for you," she said, putting her hands on Phronsie's two small ones, doubled up in the folds of the fur-trimmed coat. "And I'm sorry I called you a goose. Don't cry, I'll bring her back."

Phronsie, astonished out of her grief, and hearing the welcome words, "I'll bring her back," looked up radiantly, the tears trailing off down the round cheeks, while Joel, whose face had become a lively red, blurted out, "And I'm sorry I was bad to you," staring at the girl.

"Oh, I didn't mind you," said the girl, carelessly. "Now, who is Polly?" She looked at Ben as she spoke. Meanwhile, she was helping Phronsie to her feet. "Here she is now, I guess." She gave a sharp, birdlike glance between the crowd, then started off like a flash, winding herself in and out of the throng, and up to a girl a little bigger than herself. "Are you Polly?" she demanded breathlessly.

Polly, rushing along, searching one side and the other frantically for a glimpse of Ben's blue cap and sturdy shoulders (she hadn't much hope of seeing the children, for the crowd was very thick just here), hurried on, scarcely hearing the words.

"Because if you are, she wants you, the little girl does. And I guess they all do," said the girl, rushing after.

"Where are they?" cried Polly, turning on her, "please be quick and tell me."

"Come on, I'll take you." The girl made her way through the crowd, edging along, and Polly, with the color coming back to her cheeks that had gone quite white, followed as nimbly as she could, till, "Here she is; here's Polly!" She heard Joel's voice. And in a minute Polly was in their midst, her arms around Phronsie, and cuddling her to her heart's content.

And after this episode they all settled down to the business of shopping at once; all except Ben, who looked here and there for the small girl who had found Polly. She had slipped away in the crowd.

"And we didn't even thank her," said Ben, sorrowfully.

"Well, we must go to some other store and get Phronsie's cat," said Polly, "as long as we can't find her," with a sigh, so they all followed Ben as he made a way for them through the crowd, Phronsie clinging to Polly's hand as if she never meant to let her go again. All at once Ben darted aside, then turned back to Polly. "There she is," he pointed over to the counter where the small girl had her pig and woolly dog once more, taking each up affectionately, then laying it down.

"Well, you can't do that all day," observed the saleswoman, crossly. "Take one, or leave it, or I'll put 'em both up again."

"He'd like 'em both," said the small girl, "my brother would, an' I don't know which."

The saleswoman snatched up the pig and reached out an impatient hand for the woolly dog.

"Oh, Polly, just hear that!" whispered Ben; "she wants them for her brother, and she was so good to us."

"I know it," said Polly. "O dear me, I wish she could get them both."

Ben fumbled in his pocket and brought out his brown leather pocket-book. "You give it to her," he said, putting a silver half-dollar into Polly's hand.

"Oh, whick—!" began Joel, with his big eyes at the half-dollar.

"Don't say anything, Joel," said Ben, hurriedly, and dragging him off; "here, just look at that steam-engine, will you?"

Polly shut her fingers over the half-dollar, and still holding Phronsie's hand, she leaned over the small shoulder, which now she saw was thin, and touched the rusty black coat sleeve. "That's for the woolly dog," she said softly, so nobody heard, and slipping the half-dollar into the red hand without any glove on.

"Oh, my!" cried the girl, staring first at her hand with the silver half-dollar shining up at her from the middle of it, and then into Polly's face, "what's that for?"

"You were so good to us," said Polly, simply, and before the girl could say a word, she had slipped back to Ben, and this time they were soon lost in the crowd down the aisle, on their way to another shop.

"You've given away a whole half-dollar," gasped Joel, staring up into Ben's face.

"Hush!" said Ben, hauling him on, as Polly flew back; "well, now, then, we must hurry, else we never will get through."

"Yes, we must get Phronsie's cat," said Polly, with a happy little thrill. "Oh, Ben, just think," she whispered, for Ben never could bear to be thanked, "she's bought that woolly dog by this time, I 'most know."

"Do hush!" begged Ben.

"Oh, now, I know you are whispering secrets," declared Joel, trying to crowd in between them.

"No, we are not," said Polly, "really and truly we are not; are we, Ben?"

"Then what are you whispering for?" demanded Joel, before Ben could answer, as they all hurried out, Phronsie announcing gleefully that she was going to buy Grandpapa's cat, and pulling Ben along, whose hand she held, so that there was no time to peer into the shop windows.

Polly and the boys brought up the rear of the little procession. And there, sure enough, up on the top shelf of the animal department of the next toy-shop, was a little yellow cat with very green eyes, and a pink ribbon around her neck, looking down on the "Five Little Peppers" as if she had expected them all the while, as they hurried up to anxiously scan the assortment. And oh, she had really-and-truly fur on! When she saw that, Phronsie screamed right out: "She's there. Oh, I want her!" and stretched out her arms, the money-bag dangling merrily, as if its services would be wanted presently. "Oh, Polly, I want her, I do!"

And before any one would believe it, it was all done so quickly, the little yellow cat was taken down and paid for, and Phronsie had it in her hand, and was stroking its back lovingly, and telling it about dear Grandpapa, and that it was going to him on Christmas Day, and ever so much more.

"Ain't you going to have it wrapped up?" asked the saleswoman. "Here, give it to me, and the boy'll put a paper on it for you."

"Oh, no, no," said Phronsie, edging away in alarm, and cuddling the little yellow cat up in her neck, "she doesn't want to be wrapped up. Don't, Bensie," as he tried to take it out of her arms.

"All right," said Ben, with a laugh.

"Oh, Ben, she can't carry it all the afternoon in that way," said Polly, disapprovingly.

"It won't do any harm if she does," said Ben, with a glance at her, "and I don't believe, Polly, she'll put that cat down till we get home," he added.

So out they went, Joel and David having to be dragged away from the alluring toys of every description on all sides, fairly clamoring to be purchased.

"Oh, I want that steam-engine," howled Joel. "See, Dave, see!"

"I'd rather have the express-wagon," said David, who hadn't been able to take his eyes from it, the second he spied it.

"Huh, old wagon!" Joel exclaimed in contempt; "a steam-engine'll go, like this!" He shot out his arm, regardless where it went.

"Take care!" a voice sang out, but it was too late. Over went a pile of toys, just purchased, from the arms of a cash-girl on its way to be wrapped up. Smash went something—a big doll with pink cheeks and very blue eyes; and, with an awful feeling at his heart, Joel, with everybody else who saw the accident, bent over the heap of little pieces on the floor—all that remained of the pretty face.

"You broke it!" declared the cash-girl, aghast at the mischief, and her teeth fairly chattering with fright, as she whirled around to Joel.

"I didn't mean—" he began stoutly; David looked wildly around for Ben and Polly. They were ahead with Phronsie, so he ran after them on unsteady feet.

"I didn't mean—" Joel was saying again, as they hurried up in great distress.

"Oh, Ben, don't let Phronsie see!" cried Polly, as soon as she caught sight of the broken doll, for Phronsie never could bear to think of one being hurt, and she tried to draw her away. Too late! Phronsie rushed into the very middle of the group, just as the floor-walker was protesting, "Of course you didn't do it," to Joel, for it never would do to charge the trouble to rich Mr. King's household. He knew all the children well, as they had been many times at the shop with the old gentleman, who was one of its best customers.

"Oh, let me take her," begged Phronsie, eagerly. "Polly, can't I? Oh, please give her to me!"

"And it was all your own carelessness," went on the floor-walker, sternly, fastening his gaze on the cash-girl and quite delighted to blame somebody. "And I shall report you to the office. Now go ahead with those other things, and then come here and pick up these pieces, and take the doll back." With that he turned off from everybody who had stopped to look at the accident, and marched off with his best manner on, and his head well in the air.

"O dear me!" the cash-girl took two or three steps off toward the wrapping counter, and began to cry all over the rest of the purchases piled in her arms, as she staggered on.

Meantime Phronsie had sat right down on the floor, and was cuddling up the doll without any face, against the little yellow cat.

Joel stumbled off after the girl. "Don't cry," and he twitched her arm.

"You be still, and go right away," cried the girl, turning on him as well as she could for the pile of bundles, and she stamped her foot in rage; "you've made me smash that doll, and they'll take it out of my pay, and now I can't get my mother any Christmas present at all." The tears were rolling down her cheeks, and her face worked dreadfully.

"They shan't!" declared Joel, his black eyes flashing.

"An' now you'll make me smash these, I s'pose," said the cash-girl. "You go right away, you bad boy, you. Boo-hoo-hoo!"

"I'll tell 'em I did it," said Joel, bounding off to overtake the floor-walker. "Say, oh, do stop!" for he had almost reached the office door. "Mister, please," and he seized the end of the departing coat, Polly and Ben both calling, astonished as they saw him fly past, to stop.

"Hey? Oh, is that you?" The floor-walker smoothed out his face when he saw who it was.

"Yes," said Joel, "it is, and you mustn't make that girl pay for that doll."

"Oh, don't you worry about that," said the floor-walker, easily, with a smile, "she's a careless thing and I must make an example of her, or she'll break something else. It's all right, my boy," and he put his hand, where the big diamond ring shone up from the little finger, familiarly on the sturdy shoulder.

"It isn't all right," declared Joel, hotly, "and she didn't do it. I knocked her with my arm and that old doll fell off;" he swallowed hard. What an awful hole that would make in his pocket-book! Perhaps he wouldn't be able to buy only half as many things for his Christmas presents as he had scrawled on the list within it, and the blood surged all over his round cheeks to his stubby black hair. "How much did it cost?" he asked faintly.

"Oh, you won't have to pay for it," said the floor-walker, smiling pleasantly, till he showed his white teeth. "Mr. Persons wouldn't ever charge you a cent for it."

"Thank you!" bobbed Joel, in intense relief, "that's awfully good!" and he laughed, too, and gleefully slapped his pocket till, encountering the big pin again, he thought better of that, and said once more, "Thank you, mister," in the exuberance of his delight, and was moving off.

"Oh, no, indeed," repeated the floor-walker, decidedly, "he wouldn't ever think of it; the girl's got to pay," and he turned off, too.

"Hey!" cried Joel, whirling around. Then he ran back to the tall man's side. "Has that girl got to pay?" he demanded, his black eyes flashing and his eyes working dreadfully; "say, tell me, has she?"

"Why, of course," said the man, "don't you worry, he won't touch a cent of your money; and you keep still, I shan't tell him, so he won't know, anyway."

"Well, I shall tell him myself," said Joel, in a burst, and dashing up to the first door he saw, he opened it and plunged in before the floor-walker could stop him.

So Ben and Polly, staring in the direction he had run, of course lost track of him and had nothing to do but to wait there till he came back.

Joel pranced up to the first desk he saw, of which the room appeared to be full, and found himself by the side of a young man, with a very large head of tow-colored hair, who was doing his best to find the bottom of a long column of figures. As he paid no attention to Joel's sudden appearance, the floor-walker had time to add himself to their company. At this the young man deserted his figures, thrust his pencil in the thicket of tow hair, and said, "Hey, that you, McKenzie?"

But Mr. McKenzie paid small heed. "Here, you don't want to come in here," he said to Joel, "I'll fix that up for you." But Joel, not caring to wait for attentions that didn't appear to be forthcoming, dashed off to the next door. "Where's the big man?" he demanded.

"Hey?" The busy worker raised his head in astonishment to stare into the chubby face thrust into his own.

"The big man, the one who's ahead of you all?" said Joel, impatiently, waving his arms around comprehensively to take in the whole counting room.

"Oh, Mr. Persons, I guess he means," contributed the man at the neighboring desk. By this time everybody in the department had become interested, and pens were laid down and heads were bobbed up.

"Yes, yes," cried Joel, quite delighted to recognize the name that in his excitement had slipped away. "Where is he?" drumming on the desk impatiently.

"In there, kid," the bookkeeper stuck his penholder over his shoulder, and following its lead, Joel was soon within a little office, that, if he had taken time to notice, would have showed him "Private" in big letters across the door.

But Joel hadn't time to waste on anything but the matter in hand, and he plunged up to the desk and burst out: "It was my fault, and I want to pay for it. Don't let him make the little girl pay, please don't." He laid hold of the gray-haired man's arm at this last, and held on with a grip, for Mr. McKenzie hurried up.

Mr. Persons dropped his pen in astonishment. His mouth flew open, but he said not a word.

"I'll explain it, sir," began the floor-walker, with deference, but he had a withering look for Joel. "You see, one of the—"

"Oh, don't let him tell it," burst in Joel, in terror, and gripping the arm on the desk worse than ever; "he wants that poor little girl to pay." He brought his black eyes so close to the gray-bearded face that the countenance holding them obscured everything else.

"I'll tell you how it is, sir," said McKenzie, hastily.

"On the contrary, I'll let the boy tell his story," said Mr. Persons, dryly. "Now, then, what is it, my lad?" and he brought his eyes, just as sharp in their way, although the palest of blue ones, to bear on Joel's face.

So Joel, perfectly happy now that he had the telling of the story in his own way, began with great satisfaction, and never stopped to draw breath until he turned to pull out his pocket-book. Then he tugged at Mamsie's big shawl-pin till he grew quite red in the face. At last it was out, and so was the money. "How much is it?" he cried.

"Oh, you want to pay for it?" asked Mr. Persons, with a keen look into his flushed face.

"Yes, sir," Joel bobbed his black head. "How much is it?" he demanded again, this time impatiently. Since it was all settled, he began wildly to think of Ben and Polly and the others.

"Mr. Persons," this time the floor-walker got back of the big office chair, and whispered the information as to who the boy was, without Joel's hearing a word.

Mr. Persons nodded. "Well," he said to Joel, his face not moving a muscle, "you may give me a dollar, my lad, and we'll consider that everything is all squared up in regard to the injury to that doll."

So Joel counted out a dollar from his hoarded silver pieces and put them into Mr. Persons's hand, the floor-walker staring in amazement at his employer. Then he fastened up his pocket again, sticking Mamsie's big shawl-pin in tighter than ever.

"All right, thank you, sir," and he marched out through the rows of men at their desks in the big counting room, all curiously staring at him as he passed.

Outside he found Ben and Polly making anxious inquiries of every one; David following closely, beyond saying a word, and Phronsie, who didn't know that he was lost, only that the poor sick doll had to be left to get a new head on.

"What have you been about, Joe?" cried Ben, for even David was not quite clear how it all had happened.

"Oh, something—" said Joel, carelessly craning his neck to look about on all sides. "Oh, whickets! There she is." And he was gone again, this time in chase of a small cash-girl.

When everything was finally all explained, and the cash-girl had stepped off with a radiant face, Ben drew his charges off into a quiet corner, and said quite decidedly, "See here, now, we'll buy Grandpapa's present first, and make sure of it."

"Yes, do," said Polly, "for we never will get through in all this world. Well, what shall we choose, Ben?"

"What do you choose?" asked Ben, looking only at her.

"Oh, I know, I know," said Joel, eagerly.

"Hush, Joe, let Polly say."

"I don't know," said Polly.

"Polly doesn't know," broke in Joel, "let me tell; I know something splendid, Ben."

"You be still, Joe," said Ben, "and let Polly think."

"Why, I thought perhaps he'd like books," said Polly, slowly, wrinkling up her brows in little puckers.

"Hoh!" exclaimed Joel, in great disgust, "books aren't any good. I know—"

"Books will be fine, Polly," said Ben, smiling approval. "Anything else for second choice?"

"No," said Polly, "I can't think of another thing. Grandpapa has got just every single thing in the world, I do believe," she brought up with a sigh.

"I heard him say he'd broken his gold pen," said Ben, "the other day."

"Oh, Bensie!" cried Polly, with sparkling eyes, and seizing his arm, "how perfectly splendid you are to always think up the right things."

"No, I don't, Polly." Ben was guilty of contradiction, but his cheek glowed. "You always get ahead of me with twenty plans while I'm thinking up one."

"But your one is the best," laughed Polly, squeezing his arm affectionately. "Oh, now let's hurry and buy the gold pen."

"Well, do you children want it?" asked Ben, looking around at them, "because it must be something that we all like, else Grandpapa won't care anything for it."

"Phoo!" cried Joel, horribly disappointed at such a quiet present. "What's an old pen, anyway? Can't write with it, without a handle."

"Well, we are going to give the handle, of course," said Ben, "only it must be a black one, for we haven't money enough for a solid gold one."

"And did you suppose we'd give Grandpapa a pen without a handle, Joey?" said Polly, quite horror-stricken at the very idea.

"Well, you said pen," persisted Joel.

"And so it is pen," said Ben, gayly, his spirits rising fast, "and handle, too. Well, now, do you vote for it, Joe?" and he slapped his back.

"Yes," said Joel, "if you'll give the handle, too."

And David saying "yes," then Polly had to explain it all to Phronsie. "And just think, pet, you can sit by him at his table, and watch him write with it," she finished.

"Oh, I want to buy my dear Grandpapa a pen," cried Phronsie, dreadfully excited and hopping up and down; "do, Bensie, please get it now, this very one minute!"