King, while little Dick laughed right out.
Phronsie stood quite still, the color all out of her round cheeks. Then her
bosom heaved, and she darted over to lay her head in Mother Fisher's lap.
"Oh, I didn't mean to, Mamsie," she wailed.
"Oh, deary me! bless me!" exclaimed Grandpapa, in the greatest
consternation, and leaning over the two.
"There, there, don't mind it, deary." Mother Fisher was smoothing the
yellow hair.
"Take me, Mamsie," begged Phronsie, holding up both hands, and she burrowed
her face deeper yet in Mrs. Fisher's lap.
"Oh, dear me!" old Mr. King kept exclaiming. Then he pulled out his
handkerchief and mopped his face violently. This not making him feel any
better, he kept exclaiming, "Oh, dear me!" at intervals.
"I'll pick 'em up," said little Dick cheerfully, beginning to race after
the spools and things over the floor.
Mother Fisher had drawn Phronsie up to her bosom, where she cuddled her to
her heart's content. "Now, child," she said, after a minute, "I think you
ought to help to pick up the things and put them in the basket. See how
nicely Dicky is doing it."
"I'm getting all the spools," announced Dick, jamming all the chairs aside
that he could move, and lifting a very hot face. "Yes, sir-ee! Come,
Phronsie."
"I think you ought to help him, Phronsie."
So Phronsie slipped out of her mother's lap obediently, and wiped off her
tears.
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