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Five Little Peppers Midway by Margaret Sidney
page 83 of 304 (27%)

"You didn't catch one half as bad scoldings as belonged to you," put in
Ben, thrusting another stick in the stove. "You were a bad lot, Joe, in
those days."

"And not over good in these," cried old Mr. King, ensconced in the
snuggest corner in the seat of honor, the high-backed rocker that
comforted Phronsie after her little toe was hurt. "There, now, my boy,
how's that?" with a grim smile.

"Do you remember when the old stove used to plague you, Polly?" cried
Joel, suddenly changing the conversation. "And how Ben's putty was
everlastingly tumbling out? Hoh--hoh!"

"And you two boys were always stuffing up the holes for me, when Ben was
away," cried Polly, with affectionate glances at Davie and Joel.

"I didn't so much," said Joel honestly, "Dave was always giving boot-
tops and such things."

"Boot-tops!" repeated Mr. King in astonishment. "Bless me, I didn't know
that they had anything in common with stoves."

"Oh! that was before we knew you," said Joel, ready in advance of any
one else with the explanation; "it wasn't this stove. Dr. Fisher gave
Polly this one after she had the measles; but it was a lumbering old
affair that was full of holes that had to be stopped up with anything we
could get. And leather was the best; and Davie saved all the old boot-
heels and tops he could find, you know."

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