“It was such a comfort to have an orchard,” said Polly, clasping her hands in delight at the remembrance. “You can’t think; and we used to have such fun out there when the work was done up”—

“How many trees were there?” asked Percy, with an eye for details.

“Oh, there weren’t any trees!” said Polly quickly; “there was just one; but we played there were ever and ever so many, so we called it an Orchard.”

“Oh, dear me!” exclaimed Percy and Van together.

“It was an apple-tree,” said Joel; “and there weren’t any apples on it either, only we used to play there were.”

“O Joel!” exclaimed Polly, “have you forgotten? Don’t you remember one year that we got some?”

“Mean old things!” declared Joel; “and so hard, they’d almost break your teeth.”

“Well, you and Dave managed to eat them,” said Ben, laughing.

“Because we couldn’t get any others,” said Joel; “and they were only about a dozen of them, I guess.”

“That was better than nothing,” said Polly. “Well, you see we did have apples on the tree sometimes, so we could call it an orchard; and when we had our work done, we could go out there and play. And Phronsie could always take Seraphina and stay there ever so long, because it was just a little way back of the kitchen-door; so you see we thought a great deal indeed of our Orchard.”

“Tell us what you used to do out in your Orchard?” begged Van abruptly; “every single thing.”

“Oh, dear me!” said Polly, drawing a long breath at the delightful remembrances. “I can’t tell you all the things we used to do there, any more than I can about all the good times we had in the dear old kitchen.”

“There’s no use in asking the Peppers to tell all the good times they had in The Little Brown House,” declared Jasper, with kindling eyes, “because, you see, they just can’t do it. I know, because I’ve been there.”

“Jappy always feels so smart because he’s been at The Little Brown House,” exclaimed Van enviously.

“Well, why shouldn’t I?” retorted Jasper gayly. “It’s something to feel smart over, I can tell you, to go to The Little Brown House.”

“I wish we could ever go there,” said Percy wishfully.

“Well, if you want to hear Polly tell of what we did down in our Orchard, you would better stop talking, and let her begin,” advised Ben.

“I think so too,” laughed Jasper. “I’m as bad as the rest; but when it comes to talking about The Little Brown House, why, I just forget and pitch in. Now do go on, Polly; we beg your pardon;” and he shook his head at the other boys.

“Yes, we do beg your pardon,” Percy and Van made haste to say, seeing that Jasper had said it first.

“All right,” said Polly; “then, I’ll begin straight off, to tell you of one nice time we had down in our Orchard. You see, Mamsie was off at the minister’s house, helping to make over the parlor carpet, and we really hadn’t any work to do. And, for a wonder, Ben was home, because there was no wood for him to chop anywhere; and it was a long, hot summer afternoon. First, we thought we’d go off to the woods, and”—

“And why didn’t you?” broke in Van, with wide eyes for the indifference to the charms of the woods.

“Hush!” said Jasper, holding up his hand.

Percy was just going to say, “I should think you’d have gone to the woods, and dug up moss and flowers and cunning little roots.” But hearing Jasper’s “Hush!” he ducked involuntarily, very glad he hadn’t spoken.

“Oh! Phronsie wasn’t very well,” said Polly; “that is, she hadn’t been, and we knew Mamsie wouldn’t want her to walk so far. And besides, it was just as much fun to play in our Orchard. So we all decided to go there. Well, off we started”—

“Why, I thought you said it was just a little way back of the kitchen-door,” said Percy surprised out of himself.

“So it was,” answered Polly; “but we played it was ever so far off; and we walked around and around The Little Brown House, all but Phronsie, she sat on the back-steps till we were ready to go into the Orchard; then she got down, and we all went in together,” said Polly, with a grand flourish as if escorting her auditors into enchanted space, big beyond description. “Well, and don’t you think there was the greatest surprise when we got there!”

“Oh, tell us!” begged all the Whitney boys impatiently.

“Why, Ben had run off,—after we had talked over whether we would go to the woods or not, and we didn’t think we ought to, for Mamsie wouldn’t like to have Phronsie walk so far,—and he had brought back some flowers and some moss, and ever so many things.”

“That’s nice,” said Percy in a satisfied way.

“And there they were on the little stone table,” said Polly.

“Oh! did you have a stone table in your Orchard?” asked Van.

“Yes; I’ve seen it ever so many times,” said Jasper. Then he pulled himself up laughing, “Beg pardon, Polly.”

“Ho! ho! You’re talking,” cried Van at him.

“Can’t help it,” said Jasper recklessly, “when you begin to ask about the good times in The Little Brown House, I must talk.”

“You see,” said Polly to the Whitney boys, “we had to have a table for our tea-parties and ever so many other things, and so Ben chose a big stone in a field; it was Deacon Brown’s meadow, and he”—

“You said it was a field, Polly Pepper,” interrupted Percy in his most literal way.

“Well, it was just about the same thing,” said Polly, laughing.

“Never mind him, Polly,” said Jasper; and “You never will get this story if you keep stopping her all the time,” from Ben. So Polly hurried on. “And Deacon Brown was just as glad as he could be, of course, to have that big stone carried off from his meadow.”

“Why?” asked Van. “I should think all the Brown children would have wanted it to play on.”

“Oh! there are such oceans of stones in Badgertown,” cried Polly, lifting her hands.

“O Polly!” exclaimed Ben; “oceans of stones?”

“Well, I mean such a very, very, great many,” said Polly, with the color flooding her face, “you can’t think, boys; and they bother the farmers dreadfully when they want to cut their grass; the poor cows have such hard work to get their noses in between them—the stones, I mean—in order to get anything to eat.”

“The farmers almost have to whittle off the cows’ noses for them to get a bite,” said Ben.

“And Joel and David would pick rocks for the farmers sometimes,” said Polly; “but that was nice, because”—

“Mean old work,” said Joel, stretching himself, “picking rocks. Didn’t our backs ache, Dave?”

Little David twisted uneasily in his chair, unwilling to say how very unpleasant he had found the task of picking rocks, and wishing that the question had not been asked.

“Well,” said Polly brightly, “it was nice when the boys brought home the fresh vegetables that the farmers would give them for picking those rocks. You ought to have seen Mamsie’s face then!”

Joel straightened up at that, and forgot all about his aching back, and little David was very glad he hadn’t been obliged to say anything. “So now you see,” ran on Polly, “how very glad Deacon Brown was to give Ben the big stone for our orchard table; so Ben tugged and tugged and”—

“And we helped; Dave and I did,” shouted Joel. “Didn’t we, Ben?”

“Yes, indeed,” said Ben heartily, “you did, both of you. I don’t believe I could ever have brought the great thing down to the orchard without you.” Thereupon Joel felt very big and tall, and little David sat up as high in his chair as possible.

“Oh, it was a perfectly splendid table!” exclaimed Polly; “you can’t think how fine it was when it was all set up under our apple-tree. It was most flat on top; and it was as high as this, and as big as this;” and she put out her hands, and began to measure it all off briskly.

“Ho,—that isn’t near big enough!” cried Joel, springing to her side; “’twas as big as this;” and he executed the most remarkable series of curves, spreading his arms to the infinite discomfort of every one in his neighborhood.

“See here!” called Ben at him, amidst the general laugh at Joel’s table, “if you go on knocking off all our heads in this fashion, we’ll put you out this second,—yes, sir! The idea of such a stone as that. Why, it would have taken a pair of horses and a cart to bring it, let alone our digging it up. O Joe!”

“I don’t care,” said Joel sturdily; “it was as big as that, anyway,” bringing his arms in with a sudden swoop.

“Well, now, Joe,” said Jasper, “if you don’t keep quiet, we sha’n’t get any further in this story than that table;” which had the effect of sending Joel into his seat as quickly as he had jumped off. And Polly began again before he had a chance to speak. “And there on the top of the table was a big bunch of flowers; we had a tea-cup that Mamsie had given us, because it was cracked and the handle was gone, and Ben had put some of the flowers he brought from the woods into it; but the rest he made up into little bunches, and laid one on every little stone seat; for I forgot to tell you, the boys had brought five little stones, one for each of us, so we could always have our chairs ready for us, you know.”

“Oh, dear me!” sighed little Dick, quite overcome with longing; “how I do wish we could have little stone seats!”

“And a stone table,” added Van enviously.

“And a whole Orchard,” finished Percy, “just like the Peppers.”

Meantime Polly was hurrying on. “Well, when we saw all those lovely things that Ben had done,—Phronsie spied them first,—we just danced around him, and we held our hands together tight, so he couldn’t get out of the ring, and we all courtesied and bowed, and thanked him as much as we could.”

“I should think you did,” said Ben, laughing.

“Then we made him take the best seat in honor of it all,” went on Polly.

“And Polly made a speech of thanks,” said Joel; “it was prime. And Ben said ‘Much obliged for the speech.’”

“And then we set about giving our play,” said Polly quickly.

“Our what?” asked the Whitneys.

“Why, our play,” said Polly; “didn’t you know that was what we were going to do that hot afternoon, when we decided to go out in the Orchard? Well, I must tell you; we were going to act a little play.”

“Oh,—oh,—how fine!” exclaimed Percy and Van, while Ben cried, “It was Polly’s play; she thought it all out.”

“Well, they helped to act it,” said Polly; “and that was best”—

“Do go on,” begged the Whitney boys; and this time Jasper said, too, “Do go on, Polly.”

“Well, the play was ‘The Little White Rabbit and Mister Fox.’”

“Oh! oh!” exclaimed the Whitneys, while Jasper smiled approval. “Yes, Phronsie was to be the White Rabbit, you see; we’d got an old white bedspread Mamsie let us take for our plays; and we tied up two ends, so they stuck up high, and those made the ears; and when she was in it, and the paws all puckered up, she looked very nice, and”—

“And I was the White Rabbit, Jasper,” said Phronsie gravely, turning to him.

“I know, Pet,” he said, smiling at her; “so you were, to be sure,” as Polly hurried on.

“Well, Ben was Mister Fox, and he did look so funny,” cried Polly, bursting into a laugh, in which Joel and David joined in the remembrance. “You see, he had a big piece of an old fur rug that the minister’s wife gave him one day, to carry away, because the moths had got into it, and she didn’t want it any longer. And it made just a splendid bear, or a wolf, or a lion, only this time it was a fox”—

“Oh, that old fur rug was fine!” exploded Joel with sparkling eyes, breaking in. “And one time we”—but Ben pulling him down, Polly was allowed to go on.

“Well, the first thing in the play,” said Polly briskly, “the Little White Rabbit is fast asleep under the tree, and old Mister Fox comes stealing up behind her, and says very softly, ‘My dear Miss Rabbit;’ and she opens her eyes and wakes up.

“‘Oh!’ she says, ‘is that you, Mister Fox?’ and he says, ‘Yes; and won’t you come home with me and see my little teenty wee foxes?’”

“Oh! were there little foxes, Polly Pepper?” cried the Whitney boys delightedly.

“Yes, indeed, there were,” said Polly quickly; “there were two little foxes in a hole a little way off; they were Joel and David, you know; they were spectators with me while Little White Rabbit was asleep, and Mister Fox was waking her up. Then when he invited her to go and see his little foxes, why, the boys scampered off and got into their hole.”

“Where was the hole, Polly?” asked Percy.

“Oh! we had scooped a place under the bank where the grass grew high,” said Polly, “and it made a splendid cave whenever we wanted wild beasts. Only to-day it was the house of the teenty wee little foxes. Well, so then, Little White Rabbit said she would go with Mister Fox and see his little foxes; and he gave her his hand and off he led her.”

“O Polly! the Little White Rabbit didn’t really go with Mister Fox, did she?” exclaimed little Dick in horror.

“Oh, yes she did, Dicky!” said Polly. Then seeing his face, she made haste to add, “But it was Ben, you know, so she wasn’t afraid.”

“Oh! yes, it was Ben,” repeated little Dick, hugging himself in relief.

“Well, and so off they went to the hole where the teenty wee little foxes were,” said Polly; “and the Little White Rabbit put her paw in Mister Fox’s paw; and when they got there, Mister Fox says, ‘Now just step down into my hole where the teenty wee little foxes are, because you can see them so very much better.’”

“And did she, Polly? did she?” interrupted little Dick anxiously.

“Yes,” said Polly; “but the teenty little wee foxes were Joel and David, you know; so they couldn’t hurt the Little White Rabbit.”

“Oh, yes! they were Joel and David,” said little Dick, drawing a relieved sigh.

“Well, when Phronsie—I mean the Little White Rabbit—had stepped down into the hole, up jumps the two teenty little foxes, and they ran; and they ran past her, and past Mister Fox as quickly as they could, so as to be audience, you know, because I was the man with the big gun to go out and shoot Mister Fox, and it was time for him to do it; so Joel and David, I mean the two teenty little wee foxes, sat down on their stone seats, and the man with the big gun picked it up and he ran, and he ran to the hole; and just as Mister Fox was going to eat up the Little White Rabbit, he put his gun up to his shoulder, and Bang! it went, and over tumbled Mister Fox, and Little White Rabbit was safe!”

It was impossible to describe the excitement that now possessed the entire group, and it was some minutes before anybody could be heard. Then Joel cried, “Polly, tell the rest—tell the rest!”

“Oh, yes!” cried Polly with shining eyes, “the best was what came after. What do you think we found when we all raced back—you know I had hold of the Little White Rabbit’s paw, and Mister Fox was scampering after?”

“Why, I thought you said when the man’s big gun went Bang! Mister Fox tumbled over dead,” cried Percy.

“Oh, yes! so he did,” said Polly coolly; “but he had to jump up, you know, and come and be audience, because then the little foxes were going to try to get the Little White Rabbit; and you see he had to take their place and look on, or there wouldn’t be any spectators.”

“Oh!” said the Whitney boys.

“Yes; well, we were all three running along, Mister Fox just behind, when Joel and David, I mean the little teenty wee foxes, came racing over the grass. ‘O Polly Pepper!’ they screamed; ‘Come—come!’ and then they turned and flew back. I can tell you we all ran then!”

“What was it? oh, what was it?” screamed Percy and Van and Little Dick together.

“Why, there on the stone lay—what do you think?—a big orange, and a bag of peanuts!”

“Oh, dear me!” cried all the Whitney boys, tumbling backward in dreadful disappointment. “Is that all?” gasped Percy.

“All?” repeated Polly. “Why, you can’t think how perfectly splendid it was to see that big orange, as yellow as gold, and that magnificent bag of peanuts, standing there on that stone table. Why it seemed as if they must have dropped right down from the little puffy white clouds sailing above our heads, for we couldn’t imagine where they came from. And we never thought of finishing up our play; but the Little White Rabbit hopped out of her white skin, and Mister Fox tumbled out of his old fur rug; and it took us all the rest of the afternoon to cut and divide that splendid, big, yellow orange, and to count out those magnificent peanuts, and to give them all around, except the time it took to eat them.”

“That was best!” exclaimed Joel, smacking his lips.

“And we saved some for Mamsie,” said little Davie; “didn’t we, Polly?”

“Why, of course,” said Polly; “we all saved the best for her.”

“And Polly kept saying ‘I do wish we knew where they came from,’ every minute or so,” said Ben.

“But we didn’t tell, did we, Dave?” said Joel, chuckling at the remembrance.

“No,” said little David; “but I wanted to, when Polly kept trying to find out.”

“And did you know?” cried Van, turning on him.

“Of course we did,” said Joel, puffing with importance; “we knew every single bit of it all, because we were sitting on our stone chairs, and we saw it all. Only Polly thought because we didn’t tell, that they’d been put there before—while we were all at Mister Fox’s hole. But we could keep a secret, couldn’t we, Dave?”

“Yes,” said little Davie slowly.

“It never entered our heads that you could keep still if you knew it, Joe,” said Ben.

“Well, who did put them there?” demanded Van, bursting with impatience.

“Why, our good, dearest, and loveliest Dr. Fisher,” said Polly with glowing cheeks; “Papa Fisher—only he wasn’t Papa Fisher, then; he was just Dr. Fisher. Why, here he comes now!”