"I was a-nailing," began Joel, slowly; "and--and--Davie's gone to get the peppermint," he added, brightening up.
"Tell me, Joe," said Polly, "all that's been going on," and she looked sternly into his face; "or I'll get Davie to," as little Davie came running back, with a bottle of castor oil, which in his flurry he had mistaken for peppermint. This he presented with a flourish to Polly, who was too excited to see it.
"Oh, no!" cried Joel, in intense alarm; "Davie isn't going to! I'll tell, Polly; I will truly.""Go on, then," said Polly; "tell at once;" (feeling as if somebody didn't tell pretty quick, she should tumble over.)"Well," said Joel, gathering himself up with a fresh effort, "the old hammer was a-shaking and Phronsie stuck her foot in the way--and--I couldn't help it, Polly--no, I just couldn't, Polly."Quick as a flash, Polly tore off the little old shoe, and well-worn stocking, and brought to light Phronsie's fat little foot. Tenderly taking hold of the white toes, the boys clustering around in the greatest 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 was settling a small black spot.
"Poor little toe," began Polly, cuddling up the suffering foot. Just then, a small and peculiar noise struck her ear; and looking up she saw Joel, with a very distorted face, making violent efforts to keep from bursting out into a loud cry. All his attempts, however, failed;and he flung himself into Polly's lap in a perfect torrent of tears. "Ididn't--mean to--Polly," he cried; "'twas the--ugly, old hammer! oh dear!""There, there, Joey, dear," said Polly, gathering him up in the other corner of the old chair, close to her side; "don't feel bad; I know you didn'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't cry," she said; "does your toe ache?"At this, Joel screamed louder than ever; and Polly was at her wit's end to know what to do; for the boy's heart was almost broken.
That he should have hurt Phronsie! the baby, the pet of the whole house, upon whom all their hearts centered--it was too much. So for the next few moments, Polly had all she could do by way of comforting and consoling him. Just as she had succeeded, the door opened, and Grandma Bascom walked in.
"Settin' down?" said she; "I hope your cake ain't in, Polly," looking anxiously at the stove, "for I've found it;" and she waved a small piece of paper triumphantly towards the rocking-chair as she spoke.
"Do tell her," said Polly to little David, "what's happened; for Ican't get 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, concerning the 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 got down from his tiptoes, and escorted grandma to Phronsie, in flushed triumph.
