An'
so you're that little gal. Well, I'm glad you've come, you pretty creeter,
you!"
XII
DOINGS AT THE PARSONAGE
And in another minute Rachel was telling all about Mrs. Fisher and Polly
and Phronsie--oh, and Joel and David--for Grandma kept interrupting and
asking all sorts of questions, so that the news and messages were all
tangled up together.
"Did Joel say he wanted pep'mints?" asked Grandma, in a lull.
"Oh, yes, he said yours were awful good, and he wished he had some of 'em,"
Rachel answered. She didn't dare take her mouth away from the cap-frill,
and her feet ached dreadfully from standing still so long. But Grandma was
as bright as a button, and hungry for every scrap of information.
"Land o' Goshen!" mourned Grandma, "how I wish he was comin' in now! an'
I'd give him plenty." She sat still for a minute, lost in thought. Peletiah
and Ezekiel had wandered off outside, where they sat under the lilac
bushes, to rest after their unwonted exercise, so the hens, undisturbed,
stepped over the sill of the kitchen door, and scratched and picked about
to their hearts' content.
"I'll drive 'em out," said Rachel, delighted at the chance of action this
would give her, and springing off.
"Take the broom," screamed Grandma after her, "and then hurry and come back
and tell me some more."
So Rachel, wishing the duty could be an hour long, shooed and waved her
broom wildly, and ran and raced, and the fat old hens tumbled over each
other to get away.
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