



Produced by Heather Clark, Mary Meehan and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net









                             BEN PEPPER

                         BY MARGARET SIDNEY

AUTHOR OF "FIVE LITTLE PEPPERS AND THEIR FRIENDS," "A LITTLE MAID
OF CONCORD TOWN," "OLD CONCORD," "HESTER, AND OTHER NEW ENGLAND
STORIES," ETC.


    _ILLUSTRATED BY
    EUGENIE M. WIREMAN_

    BOSTON:
    LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO.

    PEPPER
    TRADE MARK
    Registered in U. S. Patent Office.

    COPYRIGHT, 1905,
    BY HARRIETT M. LOTHROP.

    PUBLISHED, AUGUST, 1905.

    _Twentieth Thousand_

    Norwood Press:
    Berwick & Smith Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.




[Illustration: THEN SHE HOPPED AWAY FROM POLLY AND MADE A LITTLE CHEESE
RIGHT ON THE SIDEWALK.]




PREFACE


It was quite impossible that the detailed records presented through the
later Pepper books, of the doings and sayings of the "Little Brown
House" family, should omit Ben. He, the eldest-born of Mother Pepper's
brood, and her mainstay after the father died, the quiet,
"steady-as-a-rock boy," as the Badgertown people all called him, with
lots of fun in him too, because he could not help it, being a Pepper,
was worthy of a book to himself.

So the hosts of readers of the Pepper Series decided, and many of them
accordingly be-sought the author to give Ben a chance to be better
known. He was always so ready to efface himself, that it was Margaret
Sidney's responsibility, after all, to bring him more to the front, to
be understood by all who loved his life in the earlier records.

So Margaret Sidney, despite Ben's wishes, has written this latest
volume. To do it, Polly and Joel and David and Phronsie have told her
most lovingly the facts with which it is strewn. Most of all, Mother
Pepper-Fisher contributed to the new book, out of a heart full of
gratitude and love for her Ben.

MARGARET SIDNEY.




CONTENTS


I. THE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING EXPEDITION

II. BEN'S PLAN

III. HAPS AND MISHAPS

IV. "IT'S JOEL'S OLD LADY"

V. "THE PRESENTS ALL GO FROM SANTA CLAUS"

VI. BEN GOES SHOPPING WITH MADAM VAN RUYPEN

VII. "WHERE'S PIP?" AND JASPER TURNED BACK

VIII. "ANY ONE WHO WANTS TO PLEASE JASPER," SAID BEN, "HAD BETTER TAKE
UP THIS CHAP"

IX. WHAT A HOME-COMING

X. "I'LL LOVE HER JUST FOREVER!"

XI. AN AFTERNOON CALL

XII. VAN

XIII. THE BIG BOX

XIV. THE CHILDREN IN THE MOUNTAIN CABIN

XV. THE MINISTER LOOKS AFTER HIS PARISHIONERS

XVI. WHO WILL HELP?

XVII. "NOW WE CAN HAVE OUR CHRISTMAS!"

XVIII. TELLING ALL THE NEWS

XIX. JOCKO

XX. REPAIRING DAMAGES

XXI. THE POSTPONED CHRISTMAS MORNING

XXII. AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE

XXIII. THE SLEIGHING PARTY

XXIV. JASPER AND BEN

XXV. IT WAS POLLY WHO HEARD IT FIRST

XXVI. "COULD YOU TAKE HIM, BEN?"

XXVII. "MR. KING, WHO IS THAT PIP YOU HAVE HERE?"

XXVIII. BEN DECIDES THE MATTER FOR HIMSELF




ILLUSTRATIONS


Then she hopped away from Polly and made a little cheese right on the
sidewalk

"O dear me," wailed Polly, burrowing deeper within the folds of the
black alpaca apron

And the first person he ran up against was a small boy, his hands full
of little wads of paper bundles

"See what you've done; that's castor oil"

There was an awful pause, every one staring at the smooth layer of brown
paper

"Did you ever see such sweet little fingers?" said Polly




Ben Pepper




I

THE CHRISTMAS SHOPPING EXPEDITION


"Oh, yes, the children can go as long as Ben and Polly are with them,"
said Mother Fisher, with pride. "I'll trust them anywhere," her face
said as plainly as if she had put it all into words.

"I wish I could go with them." Mrs. Whitney took her gaze from the busy
fingers sorting the pile of small stockings Jane had brought up from the
laundry, and went abruptly over to the window with a troubled face.

"But you can't," said Mrs. Fisher, cheerfully, nowise dismayed at the
number of holes staring up at her, "so don't let us think any more of
it. And Ben's big enough to take them anywhere, I'm sure. And Polly can
look after their manners," she thought, but didn't finish aloud.

"You see father didn't know about this picture exhibit till Mr. Cabot's
note came a half hour ago, begging him not to miss it. And if I told him
of the children's plans, he'd give the whole thing up and stay at home
rather than have them disappointed. He mustn't do that."

"Indeed he mustn't!" echoed Mrs. Fisher, in her most decided fashion,
and putting the last stocking into place on top of the big pile on the
table. "Hush! Here comes Polly!"

"Oh, Mamsie!" Polly rushed up to the work-table. "Just think what
splendid fun!" She threw her arms around Mrs. Fisher's neck and gave her
a big hug. "Isn't Aunty Whitney too lovely for anything to take us out
to buy our Christmas presents? Dear me! What richness!"

"Polly, see here, child," Mother Fisher brought her face around to look
into the rosy one; "Mrs. Whitney cannot--"

Polly tore herself away with a gasp, and stood quite still, her brown
eyes fixed on Mother Fisher's face, and the color dying out of her
cheek. "Do you mean we are not to go, Mamsie?" she cried, her hands
working nervously; "we must!" she brought up passionately.

"You see, Polly," Mrs. Whitney came quickly away from the window. Polly
at that turned and stared in dismay. O dear! To think Aunty Whitney was
there, and now she would be so distressed. "It is just this way," Mrs.
Whitney was hurrying on in quite as unhappy a state as Polly had feared:
"Father has received word that there is a picture exhibit this
afternoon, and I must go with him. I'm sorry, dear, but it can't be
helped." She bent to kiss Polly's cheek where the color had rushed this
time up to the brown hair.

"I'm so sorry, too," Polly burst out, clinging to Mrs. Whitney's hand.
Oh, why had she given way to her passion? The tears were running down
her cheeks now, "I didn't mean--" she murmured.

"Why, you are going, Polly," said Mrs. Whitney, comfortingly, and
patting the brown hair.

"What?" exclaimed Polly, bringing up her head suddenly to stare into the
kind face.

"Yes," laughed Mrs. Whitney, "the Christmas shopping isn't to be given
up. Mrs. Fisher is going to let you and Ben take the children. Just
think, Polly, that's much better than to go with me," she finished
gayly.

All this time Mother Fisher had sat quite still, her black eyes fastened
on Polly's face. "I don't know," she said slowly, "about their going
now."

"Oh, Mrs. Fisher," cried Mrs. Whitney, in dismay, "you can't think of--"
but she didn't finish, on seeing Mrs. Fisher's face. Instead, she went
softly out and closed the door.

"I didn't mean--" mumbled Polly again, and then she tumbled down on her
knees and hid her face on Mamsie's lap, and sobbed as hard as she could.

"Yes, that's the trouble, Polly," Mother Fisher's hands were busy
smoothing the brown hair; "you didn't mean to, but you said it just the
same; and that's the mischief of it, not to mean to say a thing, and yet
say it."

"O dear me!" wailed Polly, burrowing deeper within the folds of the
black alpaca apron. "Why did I? O dear!"

[Illustration: "O DEAR ME," WAILED POLLY, BURROWING DEEPER WITHIN THE
FOLDS OF THE BLACK ALPACA APRON.]

Mother Fisher's hands kept on at their task, but she said nothing, and
at last Polly's sobs grew quieter. "Mamsie," she said faintly.

"Yes, dear."

"I'm so sorry."

"I know you are, child; but, Polly, there is no'must' unless mother
says so. And to fly into a passion--why, then you ought not to go at
all."

"Oh, I don't want to go now, Mamsie," cried Polly, flying up to sit
straight on the floor, and brushing away the tears with a hasty hand, "I
really don't, Mamsie."

"Well, then you see you'll just keep the children at home," said Mrs.
Fisher; "for I can't let Ben have all the care alone, and they'll be so
disappointed."

Polly gave a groan and wriggled on the carpet in distress.

"You see, Polly, that's the trouble when we give way to our passion; it
hurts more than ourselves," said Mother Fisher, "so I can't see but that
you have got to go."

"Oh, I don't want to, Mamsie; don't make me," cried Polly, squeezing her
mother's hands tightly in both of her own. "I can't go now!"

"Tut, tut, Polly," said Mrs. Fisher, reprovingly; "'can't' isn't the
thing to say any more than'must.'" And her black eyes had such a look
in them that Polly ducked her head, taking refuge in the lap again.

"And now you must get up," said Mother Fisher, "and get ready, for I am
going to let you and Ben take the children; that's decided."

"Oh, Mamsie!" Polly found her feet somehow, and flung her arms again
around her mother's neck; "you won't trust me ever again. O dear me!"

"Yes, I will," said Mrs. Fisher, quickly, and, seizing Polly's hands,
she made the brown eyes look at her; "why, Polly child, did you suppose
Mother would let you go and help Ben take care of the children if she
didn't know you would do everything just right? Never say such a word as
that again, Polly!" and the black eyes shone with love and pride. "And
now hurry, child, for here's Ben coming," as steps sounded in the hall,
and then his voice asking, "Where's Mamsie?"

Polly flew up to her feet and stumbled over to the washstand. "O dear
me!" she gasped, catching sight of her face in the long mirror on the
way, "I can't--oh, I mean my eyes are so red, and my nose, Mamsie! Just
look at it!"

"That's the trouble of crying and giving way to fits of passion,"
observed Mrs. Fisher, quietly; "it makes a good deal of trouble, first
and last," as Ben came hurrying in.

Polly splashed the water all over her hot face with such a hasty hand
that a little stream ran down the pretty brown waist, which only served
to increase her dismay.

"Oh, Mamsie!" Ben was saying, "we're not to go, after all. What a pity!
Polly'll be so sorry." His blue eyes looked very much troubled. To have
anything make Polly sorry hurt him dreadfully.

"Oh, yes, you are going, Ben," Mrs. Fisher made haste to say.

"Why, Aunty Whitney can't go," said Ben, in surprise. "Grandpapa just
said she is going out with him."

"You didn't say anything of the shopping plan, Ben?" ejaculated Mrs.
Fisher, involuntarily, yet she knew she didn't need to ask the question.

"Why, no," said Ben, in amazement; "of course not, Mamsie."

"Of course not, too," said his mother, with a little laugh; "and why I
asked such a stupid question, I'm sure I don't know, Ben."

All this gave Polly time to sop her face quite cool, and she had buried
her red cheeks in the towel to dry them off, when Mother Fisher, having
made Ben acquainted with the joyful news, called, "Come, Polly, it's
time to get on your hat and coat."

"Halloo, Polly, you there?" cried Ben, whirling round, as Polly hurried
into the little room next to get her out-of-door things.

"Yes," called back Polly, on her way, "I'll be ready in a minute, Ben."

"Isn't it no end jolly that we're going, Polly?" he cried, deserting his
mother to hurry over to the doorway where he could stand and see Polly
get ready. His blue eyes shone and his head was held very high. To think
that Polly and he were to be allowed to take the children out shopping
amid all the excitement of Christmas week! It was almost too good to be
true! "Say, Polly, did you ever know anything like it?" He came in and
pressed close to the bureau where Polly was putting on her hat.

"Yes, yes, I know. Ugh!" Polly, with all her eyes on the red-rimmed ones
looking out at her from the mirror, beside what she saw of the poor
swollen nose, jammed on the hat over her face and jumped away from the
bureau.

"You needn't hurry so," said Ben, "'tisn't any matter if we don't start
right away. Besides, I don't suppose Jane has Phronsie ready yet. But
isn't it perfectly splendid that we can go alone, you and I, and, just
think, Polly Pepper, can take the children?" He was quite overcome again
at the idea and leaned against the bureau to think it all out.

"Yes," said Polly, in a muffled voice. But she was in the closet now,
getting into her coat, because if she stayed out in the room Ben would
help her into it, and then he would be sure to see her face! So Ben,
although he thought it funny that Polly, who was generally bubbling over
with joy at the prospect of any pleasant expedition, should be very
quiet and dull in the light of such an extraordinary one, set it down to
the hurry she was in getting ready.

"Oh, Polly, don't hurry so!" he cried, going over