"And--then they had dinner; and Mr. Peters said, 'Hasn't that boy
gone home yet?' and Mrs. Peters said, 'no'--and he called me in,
and asked me why I didn't run along home; and I said, Phronsie
was sick, and Ben had the squeezles----"

"The what?" said Polly.

"The squeezles," repeated Joel, irritably; "that's what you said."

"It's measles, Joey," corrected Mrs. Pepper; "never mind, I
wouldn't feel bad."

"Well, they all laughed, and laughed, and then I said you told me
to wait till I diii get the money."

"Oh, Joe," began Mrs. Pepper, "you shouldn't have told 'em
so--what did he say?"

"Well, he laughed, and said I was a smart boy, and he'd see; and
Mirandy said, 'do pay him, pa, he must be tired to death'--and don't
you think, he went to a big desk in the corner, and took out a box,
and 'twas full most of money-- lots! oh! and he gave me
mine--and--that's all; and I'm tired to death." And Joel flung
himself down on the floor, expanded his legs as only Joel could,
and took a comfortable roll.

"So you must be," said Polly, pityingly, "waiting at those Peterses."

"Don't ever want to see any more Feterses," said Joel; never, never,