"Why didn't you tell us before?" cried Joel, in a dudgeon, revolving around
the table. "She's been eating ever so long, and we thought she was asleep."
"That's the reason she's had a little peace," retorted the old gentleman.
"Catch them telling you, Joe!" said Percy Whitney, glad to pitch in with a
word.
"Well, you didn't know it, either," said Joel, in great satisfaction. "Say,
Phronsie, where were you all this morning?"
"Ugh!" cried Van, with a warning dig in his ribs.
"Let me alone," cried Joel, squaring around on him savagely.
"Look at Phronsie's face," said Percy, with a superior manner, as if no one
needed to tell him when to speak.
Polly was on her knees cuddling up Phronsie's toes, and begging to feed
her, when she felt her give a shiver, and try to hide her face on her neck.
"Don't, Joey," begged Polly. But Joel, not hearing her, and hating to be
dictated to by Percy, cried out persistently:
"Say, Phron, what were you doing all the morning?"
Phronsie at this gave a loud sob. "Take me, Polly," was all she said. So
Polly sat down on the floor, and Phronsie snuggled up closer into her neck,
and was rocked back and forth to her heart's content, while Joel, perfectly
aghast at the mischief he had done, was taken in tow by Mother Fisher, to
sob out, his head in her lap, that he "didn't mean to, he didn't mean to.
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