Chapter 4 Hard Days for Polly.
Dr Fisher arrived in the middle of the morning to see what was the matter with Polly's eyes.
Those eyes of yours have been used too much, the doctor said sharply.
What has Polly been doing? he asked.
Everything, Mrs. Pepper answered.
Polly does everything.
Well, not anymore.
Her eyes are very bad, the doctor announced.
Don't make my Polly sick, Franzi cried, throwing herself at the doctor's knees.
Dr. Fisher gently untangled Franzi from his legs and placed her back into the bed.
We're going to make Polly all well, little girl.
She'll be able to see as good as new when we're done, Dr. Fisher assured her.
Really?
Franzi asked tearfully.
We'll try our hardest, Dr. Fisher said, but you have to promise me you won't cry.
If you cry, then Polly will cry, and that will be very bad for Polly's eyes, very bad indeed, he repeated.
I won't cry, Francie promised, not one little bit.
She wiped off the last tear with her hand.
Dr. Fisher put some cooling lotion on Polly's eyes.
You rest up, young lady, and your eyes will be fine, Dr Fisher said before leaving the little brown house.
My eyes don't feel a single bit better.
Polly complained to Mrs Pepper, and there's so much work to do.
You have to give it time, Polly, Mrs. Pepper said, taking up her sewing again.
Your poor eyes need rest, and that's that.
Just then the kitchen door slammed, and moments later Grandma Bascom stood at the bedroom doorway.
Mercy me, what's happening here?
Grandma said surprised to see Polly in bed in the middle of the day.
Measles, Polly's got them, Mrs. Pepper said.
Ben and Francie too, she added.
Freezing, Polly's freezing, Grandma squawked.
With a sigh, Mrs. Pepper stood up and shouted the whole sad story into Grandma Bascom's ear.
Well, I've got a recipe at home that can set everybody right, Grandma said, heading for the door.
Doc Fisher just left, Mrs. Pepper explained.
He put some lotion on Polly's eyes and said they must not be touched.
Well then, maybe these treats will help, Grandma said.
She reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a small cloth sack.
What's that? asked Joel.
He eyed the little sack.
Joel was always curious whenever anyone mentioned trees.
Peppermints, Joel cried when Grandma opened the bag.
You share those with the sick ones, Grandma gently scolded him.
Joel handed out the peppermints to all the children, giving extra to Francie and Ben.
I don't want any, Polly told him, pushing the peppermints away.
Oh, Polly, you have to try one, Joel said, munching happily.
Polly was too sad to answer.
I'll leave three on your pillow, Polly, Joel said.
You just take them whenever you want.
Then Joel and Davy went outside to share the rest of the peppermints and stacked the wood in the woodpile.
Polly leaned back against the pillow.
Who was going to help Mamsy now?
How was all the work around the little brown house going to get done?
Two big fat tears rolled down her face.
Polly knew she wasn't supposed to cry, but she just couldn't help it.
Later that day, a carriage stopped right in front of the Peppers' little house.
It's the Hendersons, exclaimed Mrs. Pepper.
Moments later, Mrs. Henderson was sitting beside Polly in the darkened bedroom.
Poor little thing, Mrs. Henderson said, stroking Polly's hair.
Oh, I don't care about my eyes, only about helping Mamsy, Polly cried.
Now, don't you worry about that, Mrs. Henderson assured her.
You just worry about getting better, so you can see the little chicks you visited the other day.
You wouldn't believe how big and fat they are.
Do tell me about them, Polly said, forgetting for a moment about the dreadful itching in her eyes.
By the time the Hendersons left, somehow a basket of eggs, a sack of flour, a bowl of butter and several loaves of bread had found their way out of the carriage and into the pepper's little kitchen.
Weeks went by, and Polly's eyes did not get better.
One day, after Dr. Fisher had checked Polly's eyes and was about to leave, Mrs. Pepper stopped him.
"'Dr.
Fisher, you must tell me the truth.
Will our little Polly be blind from now on?'
Mrs. Pepper asked.
Her face was lined with worry.
"'She just needs more time,' Dr. Fisher said.
"'You have to try to keep her spirits up.
That's the most important thing of all.
Then she'll be good as new.'
I'm all better, Franzi said.
Yes, you are, Dr. Fisher said, patting Franzi's golden head.
Tell me something, he whispered, kneeling beside Franzi.
What does Polly want most of all in the world, he asked her.
I know, Franzi said, nodding her head wisely.
She leaned over and whispered in the doctor's ear.
Polly wants a stove.
She's already got one. he said, pointing to the old black stove in the corner of the kitchen.
Oh, it's a nasty old thing.
It won't burn right, and Ben has to stuff it up because it has a big hole.
Sometimes Polly cries when she thinks she's all alone, too.
But I see her, Francie told him quietly.
Well, then, the doctor said, we shall have to do something about that.
After many weeks, things were almost back to normal in the little brown house.
Ben was all better and working at Deacon Blodgett's.
Mamsy had gone to pick up more work from the Atkins' store.
Even Francie was all better and tried her best to help.
Only poor Polly still wore a bandage over her eyes and couldn't see a thing.
One day, Joel was left alone with Polly while everyone else was out.
He was telling Polly how he wanted to be a minister, just like Parson Henderson, when there was a knock at the door.
I'll get it, Joel said, opening the door.
Well, well, said a stern voice from the doorway.
Who are you?
Polly's heart sank as she recognized the voice.
It was Miss Jerusha Henderson, the parson's unpleasant sister.
It was her job to visit those in the village who were sick.
Speak up, boy.
How old are you?
Miss Jerusha asked Joel.
I'm...
"'I'm Joel.
I'm nine years old,' he stammered.
"'Well, that makes you old enough to help your mother out with the chores now, doesn't it?'
Miss Jerusha asked with a sniff.
"'I do help Mother,' Joel said.
"'I do lots and lots of things.'
"'And you, girl,' said Miss Jerusha, turning towards Polly, "'don't you greet your guests when they come to visit you?
What have you been doing with yourself all these days?'
I'm sorry, I can't see to do anything, Polly said unhappily.
You could knit, Miss Jerusha said.
When I was a little girl your age, I had sore eyes and I was able to knit.
Were you ever little?
Joel asked.
He couldn't believe a woman as big and mean as Miss Jerusha had ever been Polly's age.
Little boys shouldn't speak unless they're spoken to, Miss Jerusha scolded Joel.
Now, tell me, girl, have you ever knit a stocking?
No, Polly said, shaking her head.
Really?
Imagine that.
A big girl like you has never knit a stocking.
Do you think your mother should have raised you this way?
Miss Jerusha started to say.
Our mother brought us up right, and don't you say she didn't.
Joel shouted, his eyes blazing and his face red.
Well, you certainly are a rude little boy, Miss Jerusha said as she stood up to leave.
Now, when I come back again, Polly, I expect to see what sort of knitting you have done.
You're never coming here again, said Joel angrily, not ever.
Mercy me, Miss Jerusha said.
What will your mother have to say about this?
Joel, be quiet, Polly begged him.
Polly was so upset she pulled off her eye bandages.
I don't know what's got into him.
Joel is always so good, Polly said.
It's clear you've all been spoiled from the day you were born.
To think about how hard your mother works and neither of you do a single thing to help her.
Miss Jerusha scolded.
Oh, please don't say that, Polly cried, and she burst into a flood of tears.
No, don't make Polly cry.
You'll kill her, Joel shouted at Miss Jerusha.
He ran to Polly and put both arms around her neck to hug her.
Please, Polly, don't cry, Joel pleaded.
I won't waste another minute on such an ungrateful family, Miss Jerusha said with a sniff as she disappeared out the door.
Even after Miss Jerusha was long gone, Polly continued to sob as though her heart would break.
Please, Polly, please stop crying, Joel begged, almost in tears himself.
I'll go get Ben, he added.
That stopped Polly's crying at once.
No, you must not trouble Ben, Polly said, wiping the tears from her eyes.
My eyes ache so badly, Polly told him.
She twisted and turned in pain.
Let's put some water on them, Polly, Joel said.
I'll get you some.
He couldn't bear to see his sister in pain.
No, the doctor won't allow it, Polly said.
I wish Mamsie was back from the Adkins' store.
Joel peeped out the window.
Here she is now, Polly, coming up the lane.
