"And to make it funnier still," said Jasper "don't you think, a little pen-wiper he has, made like a cap, hanging on the pen-rack above him, tumbled off just at this very identical minute right on the head of the 'gingerbread boy,' and there it stuck!""Oh!" they all screamed, "if we could only have seen it.""What was it?" asked Phronsie, pulling Polly's sleeve to make her hear.
So Jasper took her in his lap, and told how funny the "gingerbread boy" looked with a cap on, and Phronsie clapped her hands, and laughed with the rest, till the little old kitchen rang and rang again.
And then they had the baking! and Polly tied one of her mother's ample aprons on Jasper, as Mrs. Pepper had left directions if he should come while she was away; and he developed such a taste for cookery, and had so many splendid improvements on the Peppers' ****** ideas, that the children thought it the most fortunate thing in the world that he came; and one and all voted him a most charming companion.
"You could cook a Thanksgiving dinner in this stove, just as easy as not," said Jasper, putting into the oven something on a little cracked plate that would have been a pie if there were any centre;but lacking that necessary accompaniment, probably was a short-cake. "Just as easy as not," be repeated with emphasis, slamming the door, to give point to his remarks.
"No, you couldn't either," said Ben at the table with equal decision;"not a bit of it, Jasper King!"
"Why, Ben Pepper?" asked Jasper, "that oven's big enough! Ishould like to know why not?"
"'Cause there isn't anything to cook," said Ben coolly, cutting out a piece of dough for a jumble; "we don't keep Thanksgiving.""Not keep Thanksgiving!" said Jasper, standing quite still; "never had a Thanksgiving! well, I declare," and then he stopped again.
"Yes," answered Ben; "we had one once; 'twas last year-- but that wasn't much.""Well then," said Jasper, leaning over the table, "I'll tell you what Ishould think you'd do--try Christmas."
"Oh, that's always worse," said Polly, setting down her rolling-pin to think--which immediately rolled away by itself off from the table.
"We never had a Christmas," said little Davie reflectively; "what are they like, Jasper?"Jasper sat quite still, and didn't reply to this question for a moment or two.
To be among children who didn't like Thanksgiving, and who "never had seen a Christmas," and "didn't know what it was like,"was a new revelation to him.
"They hang up stockings," said Polly softly.
How many, many times she had begged her mother to try it for the younger ones; but there was never anything to put in them, and the winters were cold and hard, and the strictest economy only carried them through.
"Oh!" said little Phronsie in horror, "are their feet in 'em, Polly?""No dear," said Polly; while Jasper instead of laughing, only stared. Something requiring a deal of thought was passing through the boy's mind just then. "They shall have a Christmas!" he muttered, "I know father'll let me." But he kept his thoughts to himself; and becoming his own gay, kindly self, he explained and told to Phronsie and the others, so many stories of past Christmases he had enjoyed, that the interest over the baking soon dwindled away, until a horrible smell of something burning brought them all to their senses.
"Oh! the house is burning?" cried Polly. "Oh get a pail of water!""Tisn't either," said Jasper, snuffing wisely; "oh! I know-- I forgot all about it--I do beg your pardon." And running to the stove, he knelt down and drew out of the oven, a black, odorous mass, which with a crest-fallen air he brought to Polly.
"I'm no end sorry I made such a mess of it," he said, "I meant it for you.""Tisn't any matter," said Polly kindly.
"And now do you go on," cried Joel and David both in the same breath, "all about the Tree, you know.""Yes, yes," said the others; "if you're not tired, Jasper.""Oh, no," cried their accommodating friend, "I love to tell about it;only wait--let's help Polly clear up first."
So after all traces of the frolic had been tidied up, and made nice for the mother's return, they took seats in a circle and Jasper regaled them with story and reminiscence, till they felt as if fairy land were nothing to it!
"How did you ever live through it, Jasper King," said Polly, drawing the first long breath she had dared to indulge in. "Such an elegant time!"Jasper laughed. "I hope I'll live through plenty more of them," he said merrily. "We're going to sister Marian's again, father and I; we always spend our Christmas there, you know, and she's to have all the cousins, and I don't know how many more; and a tree--but the best of all, there's going to be a German carol sung by choir boys--Ishall like that best of all."
"What are choir boys?" asked Polly who was intensely fond of music.
"In some of the churches," explained Jasper, "the choir is all boys;and they do chant, and sing anthems perfectly beautifully, Polly!""Do you play on the piano, and sing?" asked Polly, looking at him in awe.
"Yes," said the boy simply; "I've played ever since I was a little fellow, no bigger'n Phronsie.""Oh, Jasper!" cried Polly, clasping her hands, her cheeks all aflame--"do you mean to say you do really and truly play on the piano?""Why yes," said the boy, looking into her flashing eyes. "Polly's always crazy about music," explained Ben; "she'll drum on the table, and anywhere, to make believe it's a piano.""There's Dr. Fisher going by," said Joel, who, now that they had gotten on the subject of music, began to find prickles running up and down his legs from sitting so still. "I wish he'd stop.""Is he the one that cured your measles--and Polly's eyes?" asked Jasper running to the window. "I want to see him.""Well there he is," cried Ben, as the doctor put his head out of the gig and bowed and smiled to the little group in the window.
