said at last, in the midst of the noise. "Couldn't he, Ben?" and he ran to
twitch that individual's sleeve.

"Hey--what?"

"Couldn't he be the one to give out some of the letters, and help Jasper?"
asked David anxiously.

"I don't know--yes, maybe"--as he saw David's face fall. "You best ask
Jasper, he's to be the postmaster."

So David ran over and precipitated himself into the middle of the group,
with his question; when immediately the rest began to clamor to help Jasper
give out the letters, so the babel was worse than at first.

Phronsie by this time was begging with the others, while she sat straight
in Polly's lap, with very red cheeks and wide eyes. Now she slipped out,
and rushed up to Jasper.

"And I, too, Japser; I want to give out letters, too," she cried,
dreadfully excited.

"So you shall, Pet," he cried, seizing her to toss her up in the air, the
others all circling around them, Phronsie's happy little crows going up
high above the general din.

"Well, I think if we are going to have such a fine post office, we'll have
to work pretty hard to write the letters," said Polly, after they had
sobered down a bit.