Phronsie tried to drag forward a chair, while Polly ran out the
back door, calling, "Joel--Joel!"

"Bless her heart!" exclaimed the visitor, looking at Phronsie.
"No, I can't set; I've got to keep an eye on that horse." As Mr.
Beebe, who ran the little shoe shop up in the town, owned a
horse that nothing but a whip could make go, this seemed
unnecessary. However, Mrs. Pepper only smiled hospitably, while
the woman went on.

"You see, I've only jest about come, as 'twere, on from the West,
an' bein' my boy's got a birthday, an' him bein' grandson, as
you may say, to Mis' Beebe, she thought she'd give him a party."

"Oh, are you Mr. Beebe's daughter?" asked Mrs. Pepper, in
perplexity. "I thought the old people hadn't any children."

"No more'n they hain't," said the visitor, leaning composedly
against the door jamb and keeping her eye on the horse; "but as
you may say, Ab'm's their grandson, for my husband's mother was
sister to Mis' Beebe, an' she's dead, so you see it's next o'
kin, an' it comes in handy to call her Grandma."

"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Pepper.

"Well, an' so Mis' Beebe's goin' to give Ab'm a party. La! she's
been a-bakin' doughnuts all this mornin', got up at four o'clock
an' begun 'em. I never see such sugary ones. They're sights, I
tell you."