Five Little Peppers and their Friends | Page 3

feet so quickly she nearly overthrew
Phronsie, who had drawn closer, unable to miss a bit of this very
strange proceeding. "Now I'm through pretending an' I haven't got any

child, an' you may have her back." She wrung her grimy hands together,
and turned her back on the object of so much attention. "Take her,
quick; she's yours."
Phronsie hurried over to the doll, sitting up in pink loveliness against
the tree, knelt down on the grass, and patted her with gentle hand, and
smoothed down her curls. A curious sound broke in upon her work, and
she looked up and listened. "I must go back," she whispered to her
child, and in a minute she was running around the figure of the girl, to
stare into her face.
"Ow--get out!" cried the girl crossly, and she whirled off, pulling up
her ragged dress to her face.
"I thought I heard you cry," said Phronsie in a troubled voice, and
following her in distress.
"Phoo!" cried the girl, snapping her fingers in derision, and spinning
around on the tips of her toes, "'twas the cat."
"No," said Phronsie decidedly, and shaking her head, "it couldn't be the
cat, because she doesn't hardly ever cry, and besides she isn't
here"--and she looked all around--"don't you see she isn't?"
"Well, then, 'twas that bird," said the girl, pointing up to a high branch.
"Ain't you green, not to think of him!"
"I don't think it was the bird," said Phronsie slowly, and peering up
anxiously, "and he doesn't cry again, so I 'most know he couldn't have
cried then."
"Well, he will, if you wait long enough," said the girl defiantly.
"Chee, chee, chee," sang the bird, with delicious little trills, and
shaking them out so fast his small throat seemed about to burst with its
efforts.
"There, you see he couldn't cry," began Phronsie, in a burst of delight;"

you see, little girl," and she hopped up and down in glee.
"He's got the 'sterics, an' he'll cry next, like enough," said the girl.
"What's 'the 'sterics'?" asked Phronsie, coming out of her glee, and
drawing nearer. "Oh, I see some tears," and she looked soberly up into
the thin, dirty face, and forgot all about her question.
"No, you don't, either." The girl twitched away angrily. "There ain't
never no tears you could see on me; 'twas the cat or the bird. Ain't you
green, though! You're green as that grass there," and she spun round
and round, snapping her fingers all the while.
Phronsie stood quite still and regarded her sorrowfully.
"Don't you believe I cried!" screamed the girl, dashing up to her, to
snap her fingers in Phronsie's face; "say you don't this minute."
"But I think you did," said Phronsie. "Oh. I'm very sure you did, and
you may hold my child again, if you only won't cry any more," and she
clasped her hands tightly together. The other girl started and ran toward
the big iron gate.
"Oh, don't!" Phronsie called after her, and ran to overtake the flying
feet. "Please stay with me. I like you; don't go."
The girl threw her head back as if something hurt her throat, then
leaned her face against the iron railings and stuck her fingers in her
ears.
"Don't! lemme alone! go 'way, can't you!" She wriggled off from
Phronsie's fingers. "I'll lick you if you don't lemme be!"
"I wish you'd play with me," said Phronsie, having hard work to keep
out of the way of the flapping shoes all down at the heel, "and you may
have Clorinda for your very own child as long as you stay--you may
really."
"Ow! see here!" Up came the girl's face, and with a defiant sweep of

her grimy hands she brushed both cheeks. "Do you mean that, honest
true, black and blue?"
"Yes," said Phronsie, very much relieved to see the effect of her
invitation, "I do mean it, little girl. Come, and I'll tell Clorinda all how
it is."
"I'm goin' outside to walk up and down a bit. Bring on your doll."
"But you must come here," said Phronsie, moving off slowly backward
over the grass. "Come, little girl"--holding out her hand.
"Now I know you didn't mean it," said the girl scornfully. "You
wouldn't let me touch that nasty old doll of yours again for nothin' you
wouldn't," she shrilled at her.
"Oh, yes, I would," declared Phronsie, in great distress; "see, I'm going
to get her now," and she turned around and hurried over the grass to
pick Clorinda off from her resting-place and run back. "There, see, little
girl," she cried breathlessly, thrusting the doll into the dirty hands;
"take her now and we'll go and play."
For answer, the girl clutched the doll and