Polly, to look after you." Polly raised her head, that had
drooped at her mother's reproof, and Ben sat quite straight in
his chair. "But I don't see as it's right for me to let you go."
There was a sign of another outbreak, but something in Mamsie's
eyes stopped it halfway.

"In the first place, it's five miles to Hillsbury," said Mrs.
Pepper, slowly, as if trying to put off the final decision as
long as possible; "and you younger children couldn't walk it."

"I could, Mamsie," declared Joel, springing up again.

"Sit down, Joel; well, Davie couldn't. I shouldn't be willing
for him to try, and walk clear back. And Phronsie--" Mrs. Pepper
looked down at Phronsie's yellow head, and smiled. It wasn't
necessary for her to say a word. "Mr. Tisbett'll be goin' over,"
said little Davie, hopefully, "an' he can take us."

"And that would cost money," said Mrs. Pepper.

"Somebody will let us sit in behind," said Joel, confidently;
"there'll be lots of wagons goin'."

"And ever so many people going in them," added Mrs. Pepper. "No,
my children shan't ever be a burden to other folks," and she
lifted her head proudly. "Polly, run into the bedroom and get
the stocking-leg." The stocking-leg, in the upper drawer of the
big bureau that belonged to Father Pepper's mother, always held
the stray quarters and half dollars laid up for a nest-egg
against a rainy day. Polly jumped out of her chair, glad to have