Chapter 1 Happy Days at the Little Brown House.
Long, long ago, in a small village known as Badgertown, on a tiny street called Promise Lane, there was a little brown house in which the Pepper family lived.
There was Mrs Pepper, who was always bent over her sewing in order to earn the money to feed her large brood of five peppers.
Her children called her Mamsie.
Ben, the oldest pepper child, was eleven years old.
He worked hard at Deacon Blodgett's and did all the outdoor chores around the little brown house.
Polly, the second oldest, was ten years old.
She did all the baking, cooking and cleaning up and she took care of Joel, Davy and Francie so that Mamsy could sew.
By evening, the old kitchen in the little brown house was finally quiet.
Gone was the hustle and bustle of the day.
All of the Peppers except for Ben were busy doing small chores.
Life was hard for the Peppers.
Mr. Pepper had died when the youngest, Francie, was just a baby.
Since then, Mrs Pepper had worked hard to scrape together enough money to buy food and pay rent on the little brown house.
Day after day, she worked cheerfully at her sewing.
She made coats and did mending of all kinds.
In spite of it all, the little five Peppers were a happy bunch and filled Mrs Pepper's heart with joy.
There was only one thing missing.
The Peppers had never been to school.
There were so many chores and so little money that the children had to help as best as they could every day.
I must get schooling for them.
Somehow I must.
Mrs Pepper promised herself as her fingers flew over the coat she was sewing.
To help Mother was the greatest goal of each and every Pepper.
Ben and Polly spent hours making secret plans, whispering to each other about how they would one day surprise Mother with all the kind things they would do for her.
The younger three Peppers Joel, Davy and Francie, looked up to and loved Polly and Ben with all their hearts.
The Peppers felt they were a very lucky family indeed.
They might not have much money, but they had each other, and that was all that really mattered.
"'Oh, my goodness,' said Polly as she burst into the kitchen.
"'It's almost dinner time.
Ben will be home from work any minute.'
Polly reached into the potato sack that hung in the mostly empty cupboard.
She pulled out six potatoes, one for each of them.
I'll help you, dear, just as soon as I'm done with this mending, Mrs. Pepper said.
I want to help, too, sang out Francie, who toddled in on her chubby little legs and clung to Polly.
May I, Polly, may I?
Of course you may, my pet, Polly told her, kissing the top of Francie's golden head.
Polly set Francie down on a seat at the table and gave her a crust of bread and butter.
"'You needn't do a thing, Mamsie,' Polly said cheerily to her mother.
"'Francie and I will take care of it all.'
Polly hummed as she set a pot of water to boil on the cranky old black stove.
Her brown eyes twinkled in the dimming light as she peeled the potatoes, cut up the brown bread and set out the butterplate on the old plank wood table.
Someday we'll have enough candles to light the whole house every night, Polly promised herself as she watched Mamsie squint at her sewing in the growing dark.
Just then, Francie let out a cry.
It's Ben!
Ben bounded into the kitchen, his chubby face all aglow, his big blue eyes shown honest and true.
Is sup ready, Polly?
Ben asked.
We're hungry, said Joel and Davy, who trailed in after Ben.
Let's eat, Polly said, carrying the plate of potatoes to the table.
Someday we're going to be awfully rich, aren't we, Ben?
Francie asked, her mouth half full.
You don't say, Ben said with a chuckle.
Then, in a low voice to Polly, he added, I wish we could be rich now, in time for Mamsie's birthday.
I know, said Polly sadly.
If only we could really celebrate it.
I don't want any other celebration than to look at all of you.
I feel perfectly rich right now, and that's a fact, Mrs. Pepper said.
Her bright eyes glistened with pride.
If we can only keep together tears and grow up good, that's all I ask, she added.
After dinner, when all the dishes had been washed and neatly put away, Polly said in a low voice Ben, we must have a birthday surprise for Mamsie.
We simply must.
How, Polly?
Polly wrinkled her forehead and thought a moment.
Oh, I know.
I'll bake her a cake, Polly said in delight.
She will see you bake.
It said Ben, who was always very practical.
Or she'll smell it, and that would be just as bad.
She won't, said Polly.
Ma'am, she's going to help Mrs Henderson tomorrow, so I can bake it then and we can hide it for the next day's surprise, so there.
Good for you, Polly, said Ben.
You always think of everything.
We'll have it done and out of the way by the time Mamsy comes home, Polly said, checking the cupboard.
Oh, dear, we've only got brown flour.
No matter, Grandma Bascom will tell me how to bake a brown flour cake.
I'm going to go right over there and ask her.
Wait, Polly, said Ben, and he stopped her from flying off right then and there.
Mamsy will find out if you leave now.
And what if the stove stops working the way it always does?
What will we do then, Polly?
Ben asked.
Polly ran over and shook her fist at the mean old face of the crumbling black stove.
I'll shake it to pieces, Polly said so fiercely that Ben had to laugh.
The sound of Bin's laughter brought in all the other children.
Bin and Polly told them about the secret birthday cake that Polly was going to bake.
The children were so excited that they all stayed up way past their bedtime.
Francie, who sat straight up on her little stool, blinked and winked to try to stay awake until she finally tumbled over in a sleepy little heap onto the floor.
Want to go to bed, Polly?
Take me, Francie murmured.
So Polly bundled Francie into bed and all the little peppers dreamed happily of cake and icing and Mamsie's birthday surprise.
The next morning, Polly surveyed the neat little kitchen with pride.
The floors were neatly swept, the dishes done, and everything was in order.
She and the rest of the little peppers had gotten up extra early to finish the morning chores.
Ben gave Polly a secret wink as he went to work at Deacon Blodgett's.
The minute Mamsie left, Polly and the three youngest peppers gathered around the old stove to light it.
That way it would be nice and hot to bake the cake.
Davy brought the wood for the stove.
Polly put it into the stove and poked it into a careful little pile.
That will work, Polly exclaimed.
Then she saw the big black hole in the back of the stove.
The clay that Bin had used to fill the hole had fallen out.
What will we do now, groaned Joel.
We'll fill it with paper, Polly said.
We don't have any, said Joel.
We used the last bit of paper to make kites.
And the kites blew away and got torn to shreds on a tree, Davy added.
Now we can't have cake, Joel cried.
No cake, asked Francie, her eyes filled with tears and her lip began to tremble.
Davy ran into his room.
Two seconds later, he returned with the top of a leather boot he'd found in the road.
It was one of his greatest treasures.
We can cram it into the hole as hard as we can, he said.
Polly's eyes shone.
You're a real good boy, Davy, to let us use this, she said, giving Davy a hug.
I would have given a boot top if I'd had one, Joel said.
I know, Joel.
Polly said kindly and gave him a quick hug.
Polly bent down beside the stove and poked at the fire.
Soon it began to burn.
Then she stood up, wiped her hands on her apron, and drew a long, relieved breath.
"'I'm going to Grandma Bascom's to get a recipe for birthday cake,' Polly said.
"'You boys stay here and take care of Francie in the house.'
I've got lots of hammering to do, Joel said, puffing his chest up proudly.
Polly kissed the three littlest peppers goodbye and set off for Grandma Bascom's house.
Grandma Bascom wasn't really Polly's grandmother, but everyone in the village called her that.
Polly flew across the lane, around the corner, and right through Grandma Bascom's front door.
There was no point in knocking.
Grandma couldn't hear much of anything at all.
Good morning, Polly dear, Grandma welcomed her.
How's your mother? she asked.
It's her birthday tomorrow, Polly replied.
Never say tomorrow's a bad day, my child, Grandmother scolded her.
I said it's her birthday tomorrow, Grandma.
Polly shouted so loudly that Grandma's cap trembled just a bit, and we're going to give her a surprise.
You don't say, said Grandma as Polly skipped around and gave her a hug.
What's wrong with her eyes?
A birthday surprise!
Polly stood on tiptoe and shouted right into Grandma's ear.
We want to bake her a cake, Polly said.
Won't you please tell me how?
A cake for her birthday.
That will be fine, Grandma said, writing her cap.
I have a grand cake recipe right here.
Grandma waddled over to the wooden table.
She turned an old tin teapot upside down and a jumble of yellowed papers tumbled out.
Grandma searched through the pile for her best cake recipe.
Now, first you start with the eggs, said Grandma.
Oh, we don't have eggs, Grandma, Polly interrupted.
We've only brown flour.
Well, brown flour will do, and it will look good with the raisins, Grandma said.
Oh, we don't have raisins.
Polly said, beginning to worry.
No raisins?
What were you going to put in the cake?
Grandma asked, looking at Polly over her glasses.
Cinnamon?
We've got plenty of that, Polly said.
We have to bake a cake for Mamsy.
We just have to.
It's her birthday, Polly added.
You can use this recipe and make do with what you have at home.
Grandma said, handing the crumbly yellow slip of paper to Polly.
Thank you, Grandma, Polly said, slipping the bit of paper into her pocket.
I must be getting back, she added, giving Grandma a quick kiss on her cheek.
Polly flew home and burst into the kitchen, eyes dancing, ready to begin baking, when she saw a terrible sight.
It was Francie.
She was huddled in the corner of Mamsie's great big rocking chair, a little heap of sadness.
She was crying bitterly.
Joel hovered over her, looking more worried than Polly had ever seen him.
What's the matter? gasped Polly.
She rushed over to Francie and gathered the sad little girl in her arms.
I was hammering and Joel began nervously.
Oh, Francie, please don't cry, Joel said, nearly crying himself.
Just then Davy burst in with a bottle of castor oil.
Joel, tell me what happened, Polly said.
Or Davy, you tell me, right now, or else-
No, I'll tell, Joel said.
Really, I will.
Polly waited as Francie buried her head in Polly's shoulder and sobbed her heart out.
Joel took a deep breath and said, all in a rush I was hammering and the old hammer was shaking and Francie stuck her foot in the way.
And, oh, Polly, I didn't mean to do it.
Joel ended with a wail of his own.
Quick as a flash, Polly tore off Francie's little old shoe and well-worn sock and tenderly took hold of Francie's fat little foot.
Joel and Davy watched in fear as Polly checked the chubby white toes, working them back and forth and up and down.
Nothing's broken, Polly said at last with a grateful sigh.
It hurts, Polly, right there, Francie said through a rain of tears.
She wiggled her big toe.
Polly saw the small black spot that was growing under the nail.
Just then, Polly heard a small and strange noise.
She looked up and saw Joel trying his hardest not to cry.
Before she could say a word, Joel flung himself into Polly's lap in a flood of tears.
"'There, there, Joel, dear,' Polly said, gathering him into her arms beside Francie.
"'I know you didn't mean to do it.'
Polly dropped a kiss on his stubby brown head.
When Francie saw Joel crying, she immediately stopped.
"'Don't cry, Joel.
Does your toe ache too?' she asked, patting his head.
This made Joel cry even harder.
To think that he'd hurt the baby.
Everyone's pet was enough to make his heart break.
"'Look here,' Davy said, holding up the bottle of castor oil.
If we give Francie a spoonful of this, she'll feel all better, Davy added.
Francie took one look at the medicine bottle and began to cry all over again.
Polly didn't know what to do.
Then the kitchen door opened and in walked Grandma Bascom.
I found it, Grandma said, waving another crumbly piece of paper in the air.
Then she saw the tragic scene in the little old kitchen.
Mercy me, what's going on?
Grandma asked.
Davy poured out the whole story.
What's he saying, Polly?
Grandma asked.
I can't understand a word of it.
Try again, Davy, Polly told him.
So this time Davy stood on tiptoe and shouted the details directly into Grandma's ear.
We need Wormwood.
Grandma cried after she inspected Francie's toe, which was quickly turning black and blue.
I've got some at home, hanging right by the fireplace.
I'll get it, please let me.
Joel said jumping up from the chair so suddenly that Grandma nearly dropped her glasses in surprise.
Joel flew out the door and returned with great speed, a bunch of herbs dangling in his hand.
You'll be just fine, Grandma said as she wrapped a wet rag in the wormwood around Fonzie's toe.
Grandma reached into her pocket.
She pulled out a little bundle.
And these are for you, Polly, Grandma said.
I don't want them, and they'll make your cake go better.
Polly opened the bundle.
It was filled with raisins.
Oh, Grandma, Polly exclaimed.
They're awfully hard, Joel said as he and Davy investigated the bundle.
Luckily, Grandma didn't hear Joel.
Instead, she put on her shawl and moved toward the door.
Mercy me, I almost forgot, she said.
She held up a crumbly piece of yellow paper and handed it to Polly.
I found my best cake recipe after all.
