Chapter 2.
Mamsie's Birthday Surprise Polly bundled Francie's foot into one of Mamsie's old slippers.
Francie looked sadly at her tiny little toe.
Will I ever be able to wear my new shoes again? she asked.
You'll be good as new in a week, Polly told her, handing Francie her favorite doll.
Francie hugged the old worn doll close and smiled a bright little smile.
She knew everything would be all right because Polly had told her so.
Now, we must begin, Polly said cheerfully.
She put on her apron and bustled about the kitchen as Francie and her doll watched.
Polly stepped over Joel and Davy, who wrestled on the kitchen floor arguing over who would be more help.
Boys go get me some cinnamon from the basement cupboard.
Polly asked, even though she didn't need any more cinnamon for the cake.
Davy and Joel went down to the basement.
Polly carefully measured the brown flour, water, butter, and cinnamon.
She mixed it together with Grandma's raisins.
She poured the batter into the cake tin, put it in the cranky black stove and happily banged the door shut.
Polly took Franzi into her arms and sat back to wait until the cake was done.
That's when Polly heard a thump from the basement.
"'Joel!
Davy!'
Polly called.
"'Come up here this instant!'
Joel and Davy trooped up the stairs and into the kitchen.
Their faces were dusty with cinnamon.
"'What happened?'
Polly asked.
Franzi's eyes grew round and large.
"'We were—we were wrestling.'
Devi began.
The sack just fell over, honest.
Honest it did, Polly, Joel interrupted.
Goodness, let's get you cleaned up before Mamsy comes home, Polly said.
She jumped up and cleaned off their faces with a wet dishrag.
Francie saw it first.
A wispy curl of black smoke rose above the cranky old stove.
Mamsie's cake, Francie cried.
Polly raced over to the stove, yanked out the cake and set it on the table.
Their beautiful cake was ruined.
It was black on top and the center had fallen in.
Polly turned around and shouted at the stove.
I hope you're happy you've spoiled our Mamsie's birthday, you mean old thing.
Without mourning, Polly sank down to the middle of the floor and began to cry as hard as she could.
Francie, Davy, and Joel didn't know what to do.
Well, well, what's happening here? asked a kindly and cheery voice.
Everyone turned around.
Mrs. Beebe! cried Davy.
Look, Polly, it's Mrs. Beebe!
Mr. and Mrs. Beebe owned the shoe shop in town.
They had gone out for a ride to pick some flowers and buy some candies.
On the way back to town they heard the fuss in the little brown house and stopped to see if they could help.
Polly hopped to her feet, ashamed.
She wiped away her tears.
The children explained to Mrs. Beebe about Mamsie's birthday the next day and why Polly was crying.
My goodness, you poor things, Mrs. Beebe said over and over as she heard the sad story.
Here, my dear, here are some flowers for you, Mrs. Beebe said, handing a bunch to Polly.
Thank you, Mrs. Beebe, Polly said, smiling through her tears.
Polly looked sadly at the black top and deep hole in the center of the cake.
Then she looked at the flowers in her hand.
I know, Polly exclaimed.
Polly placed the bunch of flowers in the hollow center of the cake.
The flowers covered up the hole in the black top.
It's beautiful, Francie said.
It's perfect, Mrs. Beebe agreed.
Thank you, Mrs. Beebe, Polly said, this time with a wide smile.
We must get back to the shoe shop, Mrs. Beebe said, pleased that all was well.
Oh, one more thing, she said, reaching into her pocket.
Here's a peppermint candy for each of you.
After Mrs. Beebe was gone, the little brown house was quiet once again.
I wish the world were made of peppermint candy, Joel said as the last bit of peppermint melted on his tongue.
I'm going to hide the cake away until tomorrow morning so Mamsie can't find it, Polly said.
She climbed up on a chair and gently placed the cake on the top shelf of the highest cupboard.
Now during dinner, make sure that none of you look up at the cupboard and give the surprise away.
Polly told them.
Can't I open a little crack and take one smell when Mamsy isn't looking?
Joel asked.
No, Polly said firmly.
Not one peek or she will guess the surprise.
But that evening, Mrs. Pepper was too busy listening to Francie and the story of her toe.
She wouldn't have guessed if there were a hundred cakes in the cupboard.
After dinner, Ben took Francie off into a corner so she could tell him all about the events of the day.
Don't you think it was mean of the stove to make Polly cry?
Francie asked.
Yes, I do, Ben said grimly.
It hurt him to know that Polly had been sad.
What are you staring at, Joel?
Polly asked as she cleaned up the dishes.
Joel was staring at the wall, his back to the cupboard.
You told me not to look at the cupboard, Joel said in a loud whisper.
Oh, dear, that will just make Mamsie suspect something, Polly said in a low voice.
What's that about the cupboard?
Mamsie asked.
We can't tell, said Francie, shaking her head at her mother because there's a Ben Polly, said hushing Francie with a hug.
Tell us a bedtime story.
Oh, yes, the little peppers cried.
As Ben told his story, one by one the little peppers dropped off to sleep.
The next morning was Mamsy's birthday.
The first thing Polly did was run to the cupboard, followed by everyone else, to see if the cake was safe.
Polly placed it proudly on the kitchen table.
It looks better than it did yesterday, Polly said.
Isn't it pretty with the flowers, Ben?
Looks good enough to eat, that's for sure, Ben said, smacking his lips.
Everything's ready, Polly said.
Let's call Mamsy.
Oh, how surprised their mother was when she saw the birthday cake.
She was delighted and admired the cake on every side.
I don't know how you could have made such a beautiful cake in that old stove, Mammy said.
Then she cut it and gave a piece to every child with a little flour on top of each slice.
The cake turned out to taste even better than it looked.
Why can't I have a birthday? asked Joel, licking the last crumb from his lip.
You've had eight, Ben told him.
Not a cake birthday, Joel said.
I've never had a cake birthday, did I, Polly?
Someday you will, Polly assured him.
And Joel knew that someday he would, because Polly had said so.
