"a dear sweet little cat, and Grandpapa will like it, he will."
"Well, now," said Polly, recovering herself, "don't you want to put the rest of your money you were going to spend for Grandpapa's present into something big? We're all going to do that, Phronsie, and give him a nice Christmas present."
"My present will be nice," said Phronsie, gravely.
"Yes, yes, I know," said Polly, quickly, and giving the boys a look that told them to keep away from this conference; "but don't you want to help to buy this big present, too? I would, Phronsie pet, if I were you!"
"I shall give him the cat," said Phronsie, decidedly and bobbing her head.
"Yes, of course. But you can help to buy the other, too," said Polly.
"I'll help to buy the other," hummed Phronsie. Then she hopped away from Polly and made a little cheese right on the sidewalk. The fur-trimmed coat flew out as well as it could, and the money-bag also.
"Oh, Phronsie!" exclaimed Polly, in dismay, getting her up as quickly as possible.
"I'm going to buy a cat and a big thing, too, for my dear Grandpapa," announced Phronsie to all the bunch, as Polly got her straight and smoothed down her coat and settled her bonnet.
All this proceeding took so much time that Ben now hurried them off, and they walked briskly along till presently they turned into the main street where the most of the holiday shoppers were out in full force. And as Joel wanted to stop at each window that presented a smart display, and that was furnished at nearly every step of the way, they didn't make so very much progress after all.
"We shan't get anywhere at this rate," said Ben, at last, in despair, and, hauling Joel away from a fascinating window against which he had set his chubby face, quite lost to the delightful show within, he struck off at a smart pace, threading his way quickly in and out of the crowd of shoppers, so that Polly and Phronsie, clinging to her hand, had great difficulty to keep track of him at all. David was pattering along in front as close to Ben as he could get.
At last they stopped before a big toy-shop, and Ben drew breath.
"O dear me!" cried Polly, hurrying up. Phronsie's bonnet was pushed awry where an excited shopper had knocked a big bundle against it, so she couldn't see anything till Polly had set it straight.
All this took a little time; meanwhile the bunch of shoppers was stopping the crowd.
"Get out of the way," roared an expressman at them. He was so crowded up with bundles that only his head was to be seen above the pile; there was another heap on the pavement and a man loading up, as fast as he could, the already well-filled wagon, and he gave Joel a punch with something, not his hand, for that was full.
"Stop that!" Joel squared up at him and doubled up his little fist.
"Joe, Joe!" cried Ben, suddenly.
"That man pushed me with an old bundle," said Joel, his eyes flashing.
"Well, come on," said Ben, picking his sleeve. Polly, busy with Phronsie, had heard nothing of it.
"O dear, dear!" David was wailing.
"And I'll give you something more'n a push if you don't get out of the way," declared the expressman, trying to look over his shoulder as he edged his way to the wagon, "you saucy cub, you!"
"And he's calling me names," cried Joel, wildly; "let me go back and make him stop," and he shook his small fists in the air. "He's a bad old man and he hasn't any right. Let me go, Ben."
But Ben by this time had Joel well within the shop, and, the others following, they were soon lost in the important business of choosing Christmas presents.
"Let Phronsie buy hers first," said Polly. And the others, even Joel, saying, "Yes, let Phronsie buy hers first," they edged their way along, Phronsie proclaiming in a high key, as they threaded their course down a long aisle, that she was going to buy Grandpapa a cat, so that everybody turned and smiled, until at last they found a saleswoman, who seemed to be willing and able to wait on them.
"So you want a cat?" she said to Phronsie, who could just manage to see over the counter by standing on her tiptoes.
"Yes," said Phronsie, "I do, a really and truly cat for my dear Grandpapa."
"Oh, we haven't any real cats," said the woman, turning back from the shelf she was looking over with a pair of sharp eyes. "We don't keep live cats in a shop. Nobody does," she added.
"She means that it must have fur on," explained Polly, while the younger boys never took their eyes from the transaction. This was quite one of the most important events of the afternoon for Phronsie to choose her own present. Just at this juncture a stout old lady, with a stiff black silk coat that made her bigger than ever, as it had a trick of flying open, and the sides blowing off seemed ready to engulf all unfortunate passers-by, swept past Phronsie, and she disappeared from view for a moment.
"Stop that!" roared Joel, looking up into the soft white puffs above the woman's nose; "you 'most knocked my sister over."
The stately old woman looked down into the chubby face. "You impertinent boy!" she exclaimed, then set her profile disdainfully in the opposite direction and sailed on.
"Oh, Ben!" cried Polly, in consternation, all the color gone out of her face; "what shall we do?"
"Here, pet," and Ben swung Phronsie up to his shoulder. "Now, that's the best place for you in such a crowd."
"I want a truly cat," Phronsie kept saying from her perch, and, swinging her feet delightedly, she grasped Ben's neck so tightly it seemed as if he could hardly breathe; and his face got very red.
"I tell you we haven't got any live cats," declared the saleswoman, impatiently, and slamming the glass door beneath. "Here's a china one," and she set it on the counter.
"Oh, no!" Phronsie shook her head. Polly meanwhile had been looking after the stately old woman, and clasping and unclasping her hands nervously. It wouldn't take but a minute to go after her, for the big figure had paused in front of the doll counter, and say how sorry she was, for he was her brother, and would she please to excuse it? And without stopping to think, Polly dashed off through the crowd, no one of the little bunch of Peppers seeing her go, as they were lost in the transaction that was to get Phronsie her cat.
She plunged up suddenly to the side of the stiff black silk coat, now wedged in against the overcrowded counter, its owner by no means in the best temper at her failure to attract any saleswoman to wait on her.
"Oh, ma'am," Polly looked up into the impatient face, and everything she had intended to say flew right out of her mind, for the white puffs seemed to stand right out like mountains, and the Roman nose was so very dreadful. "My brother," was all she could manage to say.
"Hey?" The stately old woman laid down a doll and glared at her. "My brother," began Polly, wishing that she was back with the others. If only she could catch a glimpse of Ben, but the intervening crowd surged in waves between her and the spot where she had left them, so that they were swallowed up. Meantime there was that dreadful old woman, with her cold, sharp eyes just like gimlets boring her through and through, and waiting for her to finish what she had to say.
"My brother," began Polly, faintly, and her head dropped, "said something naughty to you."
"Well?"
