The Adventures of Joel Pepper

by Margaret Sidney

  III

  DEACON BROWN'S NAIL PILE

  "Now, boys," said Polly, as Joel pushed back his chair, "I wantyou to help me, that is, as soon as Davie has finished hisbreakfast."

  "Oh, that's too bad," grumbled Joel, loudly, "when we got allour kindlings chopped yesterday, an' there ain't anything elseto do. You know you said we could play to-day, Polly Pepper!"

  "I didn't say all day; but of course you can," replied Polly,with a fine scorn, "if you don't _want_ to help, Joel. I'msure the little brown house can get along without a boy whoisn't glad to make it as nice as he possibly can."

  The idea of the little brown house getting along without himmade Joel aghast at once, and he stood quite still. Davie laiddown his spoon, and got out of his chair quickly.

  "What is it, Polly?" he cried, the pink color all over his cheek.

  "Dear me!" cried Polly, merrily, "the very idea of a boy tryingto help who hasn't finished his breakfast. Go back and eat everybit of that mush and molasses, Davie dear; then, says I, we'llsee what you can do."

  "I'll be through in just a minute, Polly." David ran back andclambered into his chair, plying his spoon so fast that Pollycried in dismay, "Oh, Davie, you'll choke yourself!"

  "No, I won't," said Davie, with a very red face, and swallowinghard, "it's all slipping down. There, see, Polly. I'm allthrough; truly I am." He got out of his chair again, and ran upto her.

  "So you are," said Polly, glancing approvingly at the bare bowl."Well now, I'll tell you, Davie, what you can do. You know thatpile of old nails that Deacon Brown said Ben might have? Well,'tisn't nice, you know, to play all day, so you may pick oversome of 'em, and get the good ones out. Ben will be so surprised,even if you don't get but a few ready."

  "I'm going to work all the morning at 'em," declared littleDavie, gladly, hopping off toward the door.

  "No, I don't want you to work but a little while," said Polly,decisively, and picking up the breakfast dishes to wash. "Youcan have most all to-day to play in. And then some other day,when there isn't any other work to do, you can pick over somemore; and pretty soon, before you know it, they'll all be done, andBen'll be so surprised, for they'll be ready when he wants to mendthe woodshed."

  "I don't want to pick over any crooked old nails," proclaimedJoel, loudly, and knocking his heels against the pantry door. "Ish'd think Deacon Brown might have given us some good ones."

  "For shame, Joel!" said Polly, hurrying across the floor withthe pile of dishes; "it's fine of him to give us these. Andthere are lots of good ones amongst 'em."

  "You told me not to say 'lots,' the other day," said Joel, witha sharp look out of his black eyes to see if Polly would relent.

  "So I did," she cried, and the color flew over her cheek. "Dearme, it is so hard not to say things that you don't like to hearother people say."

  "Well, I don't want to pick over old rusty nails," said Joel,ignoring this remark, "and it's real mean, Polly Pepper, to makeme, when I want to go and play!" And he kicked his heels worsethan ever.

  "I don't make you," said Polly, pouring the hot water into thedish-pan and dashing in the soap, "but I shouldn't think it wasnice to go out to play right after breakfast. You might work anhour, and then you'd enjoy the play all the better."

  "I'd enjoy the play now. And a whole hour, too!" cried Joel, ina dudgeon. "Why, Polly Pepper! a whole hour!"

  "That's right, Davie," said Polly, smiling brightly at him, asthe little fellow ran out into the woodshed. Then she began tosing, without looking at Joel.

  "A whole hour," shouted Joel. But Polly kept a cold shouldertoward him, running up and down in a merry song till a littlebird outside the window trilled away as hard as he could, tokeep her company.

  "A whole hour--" Joel ran up and pulled her dress. "It's as meanas it can be to make me work a whole hour, Polly Pepper!"

  "Chee--chee--chee," called the little bird, and away Polly sang,splashing the dishes up and down in the hot soap-suds, till theold kitchen seemed full of merry bustle. Joel regarded her closelyfor two or three minutes, and then went slowly out.

  David was up on top of the wood bin in the shed, and tugging atthe box of nails that Ben had put on one of the beams.

  "I can't get it down," he said. "Come help me, Joel, do."

  But Joel kicked his feet on the woodshed floor. So little Davidgave another pull at the box, wavered, and clutched wildly atthe air, and before Joel could speak, came tumbling down, andafter him, the heavy box, spilling the nails as it fell. He layquite still, and Joel only stopped to take one look.

  "Oh, Polly, Dave's killed, I guess," he screamed, rushing intothe kitchen, his face working fearfully.

  Polly stopped her song in mid-air, and turned quite white. "Oh,no, I guess not," she said with a gasp, as she saw his face.Then she remembered Phronsie. "Come out here, Joe," and shegently pushed him out into the little entry.

  "I guess I'll go, too," said Phronsie, who had been humming asoft refrain to Polly's song, and laying down the snarl carefully inMamsie's big work-basket she went softly out after them.

  "Now, Joel," Polly was saying out of white lips, "don't youscream. Think of Phronsie, and--"

  "What is it, Polly?" asked Phronsie's soft voice.

  "O dear me! What shall I do!" Polly turned. "Phronsie dear, youmustn't come now." Joel had sunk down and covered his face withhis hands, trying not to scream. "Go right back to your chair,Polly says so. Be a good girl, Pet." She looked straight intothe blue eyes wide with astonishment at being sent back.

  "Please let me, Polly," begged the little girl.

  "No," said Polly, firmly, "Mamsie wouldn't like it. Go back,Phronsie, and shut the door."

  Phronsie turned without a word and went slowly back, and asPolly seized Joel's hand and sped into the woodshed, they couldhear the kitchen door shut, and knew that she had gone back toher chair.

  When Polly and Joel reached little David, Joel was beyond words,and he fell down and flung his arms around the little figure. Daviestirred and moaned. "Help me lift him up, Joe," cried Polly, hoarsely.

  "I couldn't get the nails," said David, "and then they allspilled. I'm sorry, Polly," and he opened his eyes and looked upinto her white face.

  When Joel saw that David could speak, he gave a great gasp. "Itwas my fault," he sobbed.

  "Never mind, Davie dear," said Polly, soothingly. "We can pickthe nails up."

  "I'll pick 'em up," cried Joel, delighted to find something todo, and he sprang up and went scrambling around and sweepingthem into a pile with his fingers, while the big tears traileddown his round cheeks.

  "See, now," said Polly, trying to speak gayly, "how the oldnails have to hop into the box again."

  "So they do," said David, with a wan little smile. Then he shuthis eyes.

  "Run as fast as you can, Joe," said Polly, "and ask GrandmaBascom to come over." Then she lifted Davie and struggled withhim to a pile of grain bags in the corner. "I can't get him into thebedroom till Joel helps me, and besides, I must get Phronsie outof the kitchen first," she thought. "Oh, God! _please_ don'tlet Davie die," she cried deep in her heart.

  Joel flew on the wings of the wind, his heart beating like atrip-hammer, over down across the lane to Grandma Bascom'slittle cottage. Grandma, with a tin pan full of wet corn meal,was just going out to feed her hens, when he dashed up behindher. "Please come!" he shouted, his trembling mouth close to hercap-border. "Polly wants you!"

  "'PLEASE COME!' HE SHOUTED CLOSE TO HER CAP-BORDER"]

  "Polly's here, now that's nice!" said Grandma, well pleased."You just wait a minute, and I'll be ready to see her. Come,Biddy-Biddy," she called, and waddling off, she gathered up ahandful of the wet corn meal.

  "Oh, come now!" roared Joe, and seizing her hand, he pulled herback toward the kitchen. "Dear Grandma Bascom, please come;Dave's killed, I guess," and before she knew it, she was halfwayto the little brown house, and in a minute or two more there shewas before Davie lying on the pile of grain bags, and Pollyholding his hand, and f
anning him with an old newspaper.

  "He's all right," said Grandma, with a practised eye; "only justfainted a bit. Now 'tisn't anything to what my son John's Abramdid one summer he spent with me. Used to tumble over most everyday."

  "He fell," said Polly. She could say no more, but pointed up tothe beam. Then she found her voice. "The box of nails--I didn'tknow 'twas up there, see!" and she pointed to them, where Joelhad tried to gather them up.

  "He fell down from there?" asked Grandma, looking up at the beam.

  Polly nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Joel wrung hishands together, and stood quite still.

  "In that case," said Grandma, "this boy must go for Dr. Fisherjust as soon as he can."

  "Run, Joe, as hard as ever you can," gasped Polly.

  No need to tell Joel that. Over the fields and across lots heran like a deer, scaling stone walls in a flash, only to reachthe doctor's house to be told that he was away twenty miles intothe country. Then Joel sat down on the grass by the roadside,and burying his face in his hands, cried as if his heart wouldbreak.

  He didn't mind that a pair of spirited black horses were comingdown the road, the bright horses all a-jingle, and the carriageall a-bloom with gay colors, and merry with cheery voices.

  "What's the matter?" called somebody to him, but he cried on ashard as he could.

  Then his little shoulder in his homespun jacket was shakensmartly. "See here, my boy, either you tell me what you'rescreaming for, or I'll pick you up and carry you off."

  Joel looked up, the streams of tears making muddy paths alonghis face, where he had rubbed it with his grimy hands. "Dave'skilled," he burst out, "and the--the doctor's gone away!"

  "Come on." It was a kind face that was over him, and in a minuteJoel felt himself lifted by a pair of strong arms that presentlytossed him into the carriage, in amongst the occupants, whilethe owner of the arms jumped in beside him. "Do you know the wayhome?" he asked.

  "Of course," said Joel; "it's the little brown house--" then hebegan to cry again.

  "See here, my lad, look at me." Joel rolled his eyes up at theman, the rest of the people keeping quite still to listen. "You area brave boy, I know. Now I'm a doctor, and if you'll just take meto your house, I'll have a look at that Dave of yours. Which way?"

  Joel sat bolt upright as well as he could, being crammed inbetween a big fat man and his kind friend, and directed this wayand that way, his tears all gone, and before any one couldhardly think twice, the pair of black horses and the jinglingharness and big carriage had stopped before the little brownhouse, and the doctor was springing over the stepping-stones insuch a lively fashion that Joel had to run to keep up with him,until there they were, with Grandma Bascom waddling around insearch of some herbs that were drying in the corner of thewoodshed, and Polly still holding David's hand as he lay on thepile of grain bags. And in five minutes the new doctor had allthe examination made, and Davie was sitting up, his head onPolly's shoulder; and no bones were broken, and all the troublewas the fright produced by the shock of the fall. And the colorflew back into Polly's cheek, and Grandma Bascom kept saying,"Praise the Lord--and who be ye, anyway?" bobbing her cap-borderat the new doctor. And he laughed and didn't tell her.

  But he did tell some funny stories. And little Davie laughed;and when they saw that, they all laughed, and the people out inthe carriage said, "Just like Dr. Herman," and one tall girl,with her hat all covered with red roses, said, "Uncle John isalways doing such queer things. I do wish he would hurry andcome. It is too bad to have our driving tour interrupted likethat." And pretty soon down the stepping-stones he came, aslight and quick as could be, Grandma Bascom lifting both handsand calling after him, "Well, you're an angel of the Lord,anyway," and the new doctor was laughing. But he had stopped tolook into Polly's brown eyes. "Don't worry, little girl, he'sall right," he said.

  Joel squeezed past them through the doorway, and ran after him.

  "Please stop just a minute," he begged.

  "Hey?" said the doctor, turning his foot on the step. The tallgirl in the hat with big red roses looked impatient enough, andbeat her foot on the carriage floor, but Joel kept on.

  "I like you," he burst out, "ever'n ever so much."

  The doctor put one hand on Joel's stubby black hair, and turnedhis grimy face up. "You've got to be a man," he said; "now lookout for it while you're a boy. I guess you'll do." He jumpedinto the carriage and drove the black pair of horses off at asmart gait down the road, while Joel stood on the roadside grassto see him go.