" But
Grandma didn't hear, so he picked up Polly's letter, which was open, and
began in a singsong tone:
"'Dear Mrs. Henderson--'"
"Hey?"
"'Dear Mrs. Henderson,'" cried Peletiah, in a shrill, high key.
"Do move up closer; I'm a little hard o' hearin'--jist a mite," said
Grandma. So Peletiah shoved his chair nearer, and began again:
"'Dear Mrs. Henderson, we are going to have the very loveliest thing
happen, and I want to write to you now, because next week there won't be
any time at all, we shall be so very busy.'"
It was impossible to stop Peletiah until he had rounded a sentence, as he
considered it his duty to pay strict attention to a period. So, although
Grandma screamed, and even twitched his jacket sleeve, she couldn't get him
to stop. The consequence was that he had to shout this over till at last
she understood it, and then she turned a bewildered face upon him, but as
he was deep in his second sentence, he didn't see it, but plodded patiently
on.
"'Grandpapa is going to let us have a garden party; there are tickets to be
sold, for we are going to raise money to send poor children out into the
country. And Jasper is getting up the post office, which Grandpapa says we
may have in the Wistaria arbor. And we girls are all making fancy work,
and oh, Phronsie is making a pin-cushion which Mr. Hamilton Dyce has bought
already.
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