“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Polly, “what shall I tell about?” She had just run into the library after her music lesson was over, and Monsieur had tripped off on the tips of his toes, his waxed mustache-ends trembling with delight in his enthusiasm over Mademoiselle Peppaire and her progress. “I can’t think of an earthly thing to make a story of;” and she wrinkled her brows in dismay.

“Let her off, Van,” cried Jasper.

“No, no, no!” cried Van, in alarm; “she said she’d tell a story as soon as she got through her music lesson.”

“Yes, she did,” said Percy; “and it rains, and we can’t go out, you know, Jasper,” and he gazed dismally from the long window.

“Oh, I’ll tell it!” Polly made haste to say. “I did promise it, boys, and you shall have it, so come over here;” and she ran to the corner with the cushioned seats under the windows. “Now, then, let me see,—oh, I’ll tell you about the Robbers and their Bags,” she announced, saying the first thing that came into her head.

“Oh! oh! oh!” screamed the boys in the greatest glee, while little Dick, quite overcome with the idea, rushed out in the hall to proclaim the fact to the first person he might meet, who chanced to be his grandfather.

“Polly’s going to tell us a story about robbers, and she’s got bags, and just everything,” he screamed excitedly.

“Hoity-toity, Dick,” exclaimed old Mr. King, whose plans for the day had all been set aside by the rain. “You must look where you are going, child, and not run into people so,” as little Dick stumbled up against him.

“But she is, Grandpapa; she really and truly is,” cried Dick positively.

“Who is? And going to do what?” demanded Mr. King.

“Polly; and she’s going to tell us a perfectly splendid story.” And then away Dick dashed back to the library again.

“In that case,” observed the old gentleman to himself, “I might as well add myself to the youngsters; and Phronsie will probably be there.” So as he had been waiting till Polly should be through with her music lesson, for Phronsie always sat patiently with one of her numerous dolls, in the long drawing-room, on these occasions, he marched to the scene of the hilarity over the story, which was now fairly launched.

“And so you see,” Polly was saying, as he opened the door. “Oh, boys, here comes dear Grandpapa!”

All the boys were on their feet in an instant to get old Mr. King the best chair in the room, an attention which pleased him immensely; and he was soon seated in their circle, Joel planting himself down on the floor at his feet. Phronsie looked over from Polly’s lap, where she was snuggling. “Does your head ache, Grandpapa?” she asked gently.

“It feels as if it were going to, all the while, Phronsie,” said the old gentleman artfully.

Phronsie put up one little hand and patted Polly’s cheek. “I must go and sit with Grandpapa, Polly,” she whispered, “and keep him from being sick.” And she got down, and hurried over to climb in his lap. “Now I guess it won’t ache, Grandpapa, dear,” she said, smoothing his white hair gently.

“It won’t now you are here, Phronsie,” said old Mr. King, holding her close. “Now, then, Polly, my girl, let us hear that wonderful story.”

So Polly began again. “Well, you see, it’s all about some robbers, and”—

“Make ’em be big, and ever so many of them,” cried Joel.

“Oh, Joe, be quiet!” warned Jasper. “Polly can’t get on at all if you are going to interrupt every minute.”

“Joel’s always breaking in,” cried Percy wrathfully. “Do stop him, Grandpapa.”

“I’ll stick a pin in him,” said Van pleasantly, who sat next.

“O Van!” exclaimed Polly.

“Here, you two boys,” cried the old gentleman, “you mind what you’re about, both of you. Joe, don’t you let me hear of your stopping Polly; and do you, master Van, keep your pins to yourself. Now, then, Polly, begin again.”

So Polly, with a nod and a reassuring smile for him, rushed on. “Well, you see, these robbers lived in a cave dark and big; it was against a mountain, around which ran a lonely road. Nobody ever went that way who could help it, because for years and years robbers had been there, and scared all the travellers away. So, you see, the robbers had it pretty much to themselves. Well, at the end of the long and lonely road was a little village. It was about as big as Badgertown, but not nearly so pretty,” said Polly, with a light in her brown eyes.

“Bad—ger”—began Joel.

“Ugh!” exclaimed Van at him, while Grandpapa held up a warning finger.

“Yes, it was just about as big,” said Polly. “Well, there were some men who were pretty rich lived there in fine smart houses, about six—no, I guess a dozen of them, and the robbers had waited a good while to see if they would come down their long and lonely road. But they never had; for you see, whenever they had to get to the next place, they went clear away the other side of the mountain, and so kept off from the dreadful robbers and their cave. Well, so one night, all the robbers sat and made up a plan, and”—

“How many?” began Joel abruptly. But one look at old Mr. King stopped him.

“Well, there were just about a hundred robbers,” said Polly, seeing it was expected of her to have a good number.

“Oh, my!” exclaimed Percy.

“And they all decided that as the splendid rich men, who lived in the big houses, wouldn’t come to them, they would go after them.”

“Oh, dear!” said little Dick.

“Yes, and so the head robber,—oh, he was too perfectly splendid to look at,”—cried Polly, waxing enthusiastic, as she looked at her absorbed audience, “he was all dressed up in red velvet, and a white plume in his hat that trailed off in the air, and he had a long sword in his belt, and it clanked every step he took, and two or three knives and pistols—oh! and other things stuck in round his waist, so he was perfectly dreadful too. Well, he told twelve of his robbers to go and catch the splendid rich men, and get all their money, and”—

“How did they get it, Polly?” cried Percy.

“Ho! Ho! who’s interrupting now?” cried Van, bursting into a laugh.

“Hush!” said Jasper, over at Percy, who ducked immediately.

“You’ll see,” said Polly gayly. “Well, so one dark night,—oh! you couldn’t see your hand before your face hardly,—don’t you think, all the twelve splendid rich men got twelve letters—I mean each man got one—saying he was to go off, just as quick as he could go, over to the big house where the minister lived, ’cause he wanted to see him on very important business indeed, and he couldn’t wait a minute. So every single one of those twelve splendid rich men started from his home, and ran as hard as he could. And before he had gone very far, he met a man,—he didn’t see him, it was so dark, but he ran up against him, and they nearly knocked each other over.

“‘Stop, there!’ roared the man, that the man who was running knocked up against. ‘What are you doing, tumbling me down in this fashion?’

“‘Oh! I didn’t mean to,’ said the poor man very humbly; and he couldn’t breathe very well, because, you see, he’d been running so fast, and he’d bumped into the other one so suddenly. ‘I won’t do it again; but the minister, I expect, is sick, so excuse me;’ and he tried to go by.

“‘No, you don’t go any farther,’ roared the other man at him, in a dreadful voice; and he pulled out from under his arm a big bag, and popped it over the head of the poor man who had been running, and then he tumbled him upside down, and shook him around in the bag down into the bottom of it, and then he tied up the neck.”

“O Polly! tied up the man’s neck?” asked Ben.

“No, I mean the neck of the bag,” said Polly. “Then he set the bag, with the man in it, on a big stone by the roadside. ‘Now, there you must stay, till I come for you,’ he said; and he laughed as hard as he could, and hopped off in the darkness.”

“Oh! oh! oh!” cried all the group, with smothered exclamations.

“Yes, and away he went to find the other eleven robbers; they each had a bag, you know, just like his. Well, every time one of them met one of the splendid rich men running to the minister’s house, why, the robber pulled out his big bag from under his arm, and popped it over the other man’s head, and turned him upside down, and shook him into the bottom of the bag, and then tied up the neck,—the neck of the bag, I mean,—and then put him on a big stone by the roadside, and told him to stay there until he came back for him. And then those twelve robbers just looked at each other, and said they wanted to sit down and rest.”

“I should think they’d want to,” said Ben, under his breath.

“Well, and then one of them said suddenly, ‘Come, now, let’s go to the first house belonging to those men in the bags; we’ll find bushels of gold I expect in the cellar, and”—

“And did they?” screamed Van, forgetting himself.

“Ho! ho! who’s talking now?” cried Percy, with a disagreeable little laugh.

“Hush!” said old Mr. King, holding up a warning finger at both of them.

“And so they ran softly off on the tips of their toes,” said Polly, hurrying on; “and before any one could breathe, hardly, there they were in the house of one of the perfectly splendid rich men. Now, there was a wise old cat there, living in that very house. She was all black but two green eyes—no, I guess this cat had yellow eyes, yellow with long black stripes in them that grew big when she was angry. Now, she knew everything almost, and she was as good as she was clever. Well, she just softly tripped along to her mistress’s bed, and hopped up, and whispered in her ear, ‘Don’t you be afraid, mistress dear, but lie perfectly still, and I’ll take care of those robber men, and won’t let them hurt you;’ so the mistress turned over, and went to sleep again.”

“She was a nice cat,” said Phronsie, pausing in her work of patting old Mr. King’s white hair to turn and look at Polly; “and I like her, I do,” as Polly sent a smile over to her, and then raced on.

“Well, the cat ran off on the tips of her toes, and hopped up to the kitchen shelf, and took down in her mouth a long, sharp knife; and then she flew out of the back door, I tell you, oh! so fast, and away off. And pretty soon she came up to a big bag with a man inside it, sitting on a stone by the roadside. ‘Master, dear,’ she cried, hopping up to put her mouth close to the bag, ‘is that you?’

“‘Oh, dear me, yes!’ said the poor man in the bag, in a muffled voice, ‘and I should like very much to get out.’

“‘Well,’ said the wise old cat, ‘I’ll let you out in a minute.’ So she took the sharp knife in her paw, and she just slashed it good through the string that tied up the neck of the bag, and in a minute out popped the man, and stood up on his feet. And then they heard a cry, ‘Oh, dear me, I’d like to get out!’ and, don’t you think, right around the corner was another big bag with a man inside it, all tied up around the neck, and sitting on a stone by the roadside. And so the man that had just got out and his wise old cat, who slipped the sharp knife into her mouth again, rushed around the corner; and the cat took the knife in her paw before her master had a chance to, and she just slashed it through the string that tied up the bag, and in a minute that man, too, was out, and standing on his feet on the ground.”

Phronsie laughed in delight, and clapped her hands. “Polly, I like that cat, and she’s good,” she cried again, dreadfully excited.

“So she is, Pet,” cried Polly, nodding away to her. Then she raced on.

“Well, those two men stared into each other’s faces; and one said, ‘Well, I declare, how do you do, Mr. Brown?’ and the other man said, ‘Well, I declare, how do you do, Mr. Smith?’ And just then they all heard a little cry; and around another corner was another bag all tied up just as the other two had been, and sitting on a stone by the roadside. And then the wise old cat did just as she had done before; and pretty soon there were three men standing up quite straight on the ground, and they all said, ‘This is perfectly dreadful, isn’t it?’

“‘Now, I tell you, sirs,’ said the wise old cat, sitting down before them, and staring at them very hard, ‘I’ve got a plan in my head, and you must do as I say.’

“‘Indeed you must,’ whispered her master to the others, ‘because when she looks like that, she knows how to do things. And she’s got something on her mind.’

“‘Just as soon as we find all the men in this town who are tied up in bags, and set on stones by the roadside, and get them out,’ said the wise old cat, ‘we must hurry right home. But we’ve got to have twelve men,’ and she bobbed her head to herself; but she didn’t tell her master that there were twelve robbers in his house, for, you see, she had counted them.

“And all this while those twelve robbers were eating up the mince-pies that belonged to that cat’s mistress, and there she was going to have all the cousins over to dinner the very next day. And those dreadful robbers sat on the kitchen table, and ate, and ate, and ate. And then they drank up all the milk.”

Phronsie stirred uneasily, and looked very sad over this; so Polly hastened to say, before she could ask the question, “except some in the pitcher up on the top shelf, that was put there for the littlest little girl.”

But still Phronsie’s face was very grave. “Won’t there be any left for that nice old cat when she gets home, Polly?” she asked.

“You must make some be reserved for that cat, Polly,” said Grandpapa, nodding furiously over at Polly.

“Dear me, yes. We wouldn’t let that wise old cat go without hers!” exclaimed Polly, quickly. “Such a dear as she is! Oh, there was a whole bowl full, Phronsie, on another shelf, clear way back, that the robbers didn’t see!”

Phronsie leaned back and put her head on old Mr. King’s breast, while she drew a long sigh of relief. “Please tell some more, Polly,” she begged.

“Well, so the wise old cat gave three nods over to the three men waiting there for her to tell them things, and she said to each of them, ‘Now put your bag under your arm, you’ll want it before long, and follow me;’ and away she trotted on the tips of her toes, till she had found and untied nine other men inside of big bags, and sitting on stones on the roadside.

“‘Um—’ said the cat, her paw on her mouth, ‘I guess this is all; anyway, we’ve got twelve. Now we must run, for master has a dozen robbers in his house. Now, says I, see who gets there first.’”

“And which did?” cried Percy, and Van, and Joel, and David, all together; Jasper and Ben laughing to hear the babel.

“Oh, the wise old cat, of course!” said Polly, laughing too. “You didn’t think I’d let anybody beat her, did you? Well, she was waiting there on the front door-step, as they all came puffing and panting up. ‘Now, do just as I say,’ she whispered into their ears, ‘and each of you pick out the robber you see first, as you go in, and rush up and pop your bag over his head, and tie it down fast with your string, before he can scream. They’re just getting through eating mince-pie;’ for, you see, while she was waiting for these men to come, she had taken the time to creep along the window-sill and peep within the kitchen.

“‘Oh! oh!’ cried her master; ‘eating up my wife’s mince-pies, the villains!’

“‘Now follow me!’ the cat commanded. ‘Have all your bags ready!’ and in they rushed. And every man caught a robber by flopping his big bag over his head before he saw him coming, and then they every one tied the neck of the bag up just as it had been done before, and while the robbers wriggled and screamed, and beat and kicked, as the bags were shaken up and down, they couldn’t get out. And the wise old cat went around to each bag. ‘Yes,’ she said, quite satisfied; ‘the knots are all fast.’”

“Oh, wasn’t that perfectly splendid!” shouted Joel. And everybody was so delighted with the capture of the robbers that they forgot to reprove him. And Phronsie clapped her little hands, and crowed and laughed with the rest; and Mrs. Whitney heard the noise and ran in to see what the fun was. “Well, I declare,” she exclaimed, hurrying over to their corner, “to think I’ve missed this splendid time!”

“Oh, Mamma!” cried little Dick, hopping out of the centre of the circle closing around Polly; “she’s been telling us beautiful things about robbers and—cats—and”—

“No, she hasn’t,” contradicted Van, “it’s only one cat. Dick’s so little; he doesn’t know anything”—

“O Vanny!” reproved his mother.

“And I’m not little,” cried little Dick wrathfully, and standing very tall. “And she did tell about robbers—Polly Pepper did.”

“Well, you said cats,” said Percy; “and ’twasn’t but one.”

“Never mind,” said Jasper; “this one was wise enough for a dozen cats. Do stay, Sister Marian; it’s a fine story,” turning his kindling face toward her.

“Indeed I will,” she cried; so he jumped up, and pulled forward an easy-chair, and Polly waited till she was seated in its comfortable depths.

“Now, Polly,” said Mrs. Whitney, with her sweetest smile, “I am as anxious as any of these young creatures for this enchanting story.” So Polly hurried on.

“Where was I? Let me see”—

“The robbers were tied up in the bags,” they all shouted at her.

“Don’t you know?” added Joel, not very politely. “Why, Polly Pepper, have you forgotten?”

“Hush!” said Jasper warningly.

“Oh, yes, indeed!” exclaimed Polly. “Well, and then the cat cried in a very loud voice, ‘Now I must go and wake mistress.’ So she ran up into the bedroom, and she skipped upon the bed, and she called close to her ear, ‘Wake up, mistress dear, the robbers are all caught, and waiting for you.’ And so her mistress turned over, and opened her eyes; and she looked at the cat, and said, ‘Is that so?’ And then she sat up straight; and then she hopped off from the bed, and ran down the stairs after the wise old cat.

“‘Shoulder your bags, every one of you!’ commanded the cat, running into the kitchen; and she jumped up to the table to see that they obeyed. And every man picked up the bag that had the robber inside it, that he had caught, and he swung it off up on his shoulder.

“‘Now away to jail!’ shouted the cat.”

“Hooray!” screamed Joel, beating his hands together in great excitement.

“At the word ‘jail,’ every robber inside of a bag began to scream, and beg to be let out, and”—

“Oh, do let them out!” begged Phronsie. “Please do, Polly.”

“Oh, Phronsie, I can’t!” said Polly. “They are bad, naughty, wicked robbers, you know; and they’d kill that nice, dear old cat, maybe, if they got out.”

“Would they?” asked Phronsie anxiously.

“Yes, indeed,” cried all the little circle together.

“I really think, Phronsie,” added Grandpapa decidedly, “that it is not safe for Polly to let those bad robbers out.”

“Don’t tie the bags up very tight, then, please, Polly,” begged Phronsie.

“Polly will fix it all right, Phronsie,” said Jasper, with a smile. Polly thanked him with a little nod, and hurried on. “Well, so you see, off they all went to jail. It was a great big stone house, oh! as big as three or four houses that folks live in, and there was a row of pens that”—

“Pig-pens?” asked Joel abruptly.

“Dear me, no,” said Polly, with a little laugh. “They were prisoners’ pens; and the wise old cat just raced along as hard as she could, all the twelve men, with their bags on their backs, coming after. And she spoke up, as bold as you please, to the man at the gate, who had a big iron key in his hand, oh! as big as could be, ‘I’ve got a dozen robbers for you to shut up and keep fast.’

“At that the man at the gate put his big key in the lock—open flew the gate, and in went all the dozen robbers in their bags on the twelve men’s backs, with the wise old cat at the head of the procession; and in a minute they were each in one of the little pens, and”—

“Couldn’t they take off the bags then, Polly?” cried Phronsie. “Please let them for a very little bit of a while.”

“Yes,” said Polly, “they did. The wise old cat asked the gateman, who locked them all in, to undo the bags.

“‘But you can have only your heads out,’ said the gateman to the robbers, clanking his big key against the wall, ‘so you can see things.’ And he tied the bags all up around their necks; each head stuck out, you know, and the bag was drawn up in a ruffle, and tied fast.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Phronsie.

“But that was much better,” said Jasper cheerfully. “Just think, Phronsie, to get their heads out.”

“Yes,” said Phronsie slowly.

“And the next day the judge, the man who sat on a platform at the end of the big hall, told one of the servants to bring a big bell, and call everybody in, and to scream as loud as he could, ‘Twelve robbers in bags to be sentenced.’ And the people kept coming in, and coming in, and coming in, until there was only a little path in the centre for them to bring the robbers in; and pretty soon the man with the bell went up and down, and roared out, ‘Bring the robbers in!’ And twelve other servants went out and got them, and set them up in a row right in front of the judge on the platform”—

“And were their heads out?” asked Phronsie.

“Yes, their heads were all out, the bags were tied in ruffles, you know, around their necks; and they tried to get on their knees to beg the judge not to kill them; but instead, they flopped over, and the servants had to go around among them and set them up straight again. Well, oh! I forgot to tell you that the wise old cat sat up on the platform,—the judge invited her, you know. And the judge whispered something to the man with the big bell, and he ran out, and came racing back with a long knife; and after him came another man, wheeling and trundling a big grindstone”—

“Oh!” screamed Joel, in the greatest glee; “they’re going to chop off all the robbers’ heads, I know.”

“O Polly!” began Phronsie, just ready to cry.

“Wait, and you’ll see, Pet,” said Polly reassuringly. Old Mr. King put his hand over Phronsie’s small ones, and whispered something in her ear, so she snuggled up against his breast once more.

“Well, oh, let me see! where was I—oh”—

“You are going to chop off all those robbers’ heads,” howled Joel and Van together.

“‘Now,’ said the judge, in a perfectly awful voice, and looking at all those dozen robbers, ‘you’ve got to promise to show the way to your cave, or off go your heads!’ and he pointed to the man sharpening up the long knife on the grindstone.

“The robbers shook so in their bags they all flopped over again, and rolled on the floor. So somebody had to go and set them all straight in a row once more. ‘Hurry up,’ cried the judge, ‘and say “Yes,” for the knife is ready.’

“The man sharpening up the long knife began to brandish it in the air over the head stuck out of the bag of the robber first in the line.

“‘Ow!’ screamed the robber, trying to draw his head under the ruffle. ‘I say, “Yes.”’

“‘And I say, “Yes,”’ screamed every one of the rest of the robbers, huddling as best they could under their ruffles.

“‘Very well, then,’ said the judge. So the man with the knife laid it down by the grindstone, and the judge gave his hand to the cat. ‘You must go to the cave,’ he said, ‘and capture the rest of the robbers.’”

Joel and Van, who were horribly disappointed when the man put up his knife, now brightened up at prospect of livelier work, and more to their taste, at the cave. “Do hurry, Polly!” they clamored.

“Well, then the judge told the man who had rung the bell to jingle it again, and scream out ‘Eighty-eight men wanted at once’ because, you see, he knew there were just one hundred robbers in all. And when they came in, he told them to go out and get a bag apiece, just like the ones the twelve robbers were in. And pretty soon they were all ready; and off they started, with the wise old cat at the head; and after her came the twelve men with the robbers in the bags, all but their heads, because, you see, those would have to be out, for them to see the way. And the robbers said, ‘Left, right,’ as they had to turn, all along the way to the cave, down the long and lonely road. Well, and finally they reached the place, and they stopped and listened. ‘They are boiling their hasty-pudding for supper,’ said one of the robbers, because, you see, all the men made them tell things.

“‘This is the time, then,’ said the wise old cat to the first robber. ‘Now do you call out big and loud to let you in.’ So the robber did it; he had to, you know; and a voice inside said, ‘Oh! that you, Jim, back again?’ and the great stone door flew open; and, just as quick as you could think, there they were all inside; and every man pulled out a bag from under his arms, and flopped it over the head of a robber, all except the robber who was stirring the hasty-pudding over a big iron kettle,—he fell into the kettle instead, because he ducked his head when he saw the bag coming. Well, and oh! they were all hauled off to jail; but first the nice old cat took some sealing-wax she had been wise enough to bring with her from the jail; and she stuck the big stone door all up tight, so that no more robbers could use that cave.

“And the judge sentenced all the hundred robbers, in a bunch, to a desert island, where there wasn’t any cave, nor anybody else,—not a single person besides themselves. So they were all taken off in boats the next day, and”—

“And could they get out of their bags then?” asked Phronsie, with a long breath.

“Yes, after they got to the island,” said Polly, “but not a single minute before. And as soon as they rolled them out of the boats, the men who brought them untied the bags, and said ‘Scat!’ And away ran the robbers, and were never seen again.”