Chapter 9 A Surprise Guest.
True to his word, as soon as Jasper recovered from his cold, he returned to visit the Peppers.
They were delighted to see him.
Jasper told them all about how the package of little cakes made both him and his father feel better almost at once.
I gave Prince the biggest one of all, Jasper added.
You must show me how to bake, Polly, he begged.
While Jasper finished telling about the package, Polly prepared the kitchen for Jasper's baking lesson.
What about my poor sick friend?
Francie asked.
Did he like his gingerbread boy?
Very much indeed, Jasper said with a twinkle in his eye.
Francie trotted off to play in the corner with Prince.
Polly showed Jasper how to measure the flour and water and butter to make a pie crust.
She taught him how to roll out the dough with a rolling pin.
Did your father really like Franzi's gingerbread man?
Polly asked.
I've never seen him so happy, Jasper said with a smile.
In fact he liked it so much he propped it up on his writing desk so he could look at it all the time.
Polly sighed with relief, glad to know that Mr. King had not been offended.
You know, Jasper said, putting the pie crust that Polly had helped him make into the oven.
You could cook a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner in the stove.
We've never had a Thanksgiving.
Nothing to make for it, Ben said lightly, as if he didn't really care.
Never had Thanksgiving, Jasper said with surprise.
What about Christmas dinner?
Nope, never had a Christmas dinner either, Davy said.
What are they like? he asked.
Jasper sat quite still and didn't give an answer.
He had never met anyone who hadn't had Thanksgiving or Christmas.
He didn't understand.
They hang up stockings and have a tree and a great big, lovely dinner.
Polly explained patiently to Davy.
We will too someday, when our ship comes in.
Isn't that right, Ben?
Polly said proudly.
Absolutely right, Ben agreed.
At that moment, Jasper made a silent promise to himself.
They will have a Christmas this year, he muttered.
Then Jasper told them stories of all his past Christmases.
The peppers listened with amazement.
They were so amazed by Jasper's stories they had completely forgotten about the baking.
Suddenly a horrible burning smell filled the kitchen.
Oh no, Jasper cried, running to the stove.
He pulled out a black smoking mass.
I've made a terrible mess of everything, Jasper said sadly, showing the ruined pie crust to Polly.
That's okay, Polly said kindly.
Tell us more about Christmas, Polly said.
There's always lots of music and dancing, Jasper began.
Music, cried Polly, clapping her hands.
Does anyone play the piano?
Polly's crazy about music, especially the piano.
Joel said, looking at the burned pie crust to see if there was anything he could rescue to eat.
She's always pretending to play on the kitchen table, he added.
Well, maybe someday you'll play on a real piano, Jasper said, hopefully.
That's a lovely dream, Polly said.
For the rest of the summer, Jasper spent every day he could at the little brown house.
Mr King, noticing how happy Jasper was, decided that perhaps the hotel wasn't such a bad place to spend the summer after all.
At summer's end, a grand carriage drawn by a pair of handsome horses turned onto Promise Lane.
It stopped right in front of the little brown house.
A tall, portly gentleman, leaning on a heavy gold-headed cane, walked up from the little brown gate.
Jasper and Prince followed behind him.
Polly opened the door.
"'Is this little Miss Pepper?'
Mr. King asked in a booming voice.
I don't know, sir.
I'm Polly, she stammered, blushing a deep rose red.
Is your mother in?
Mr. King asked, bending his head to peer through the front door.
Mr. King, won't you come in?
Mrs. Pepper asked, coming up behind Polly.
Seated at the kitchen table, Mr. King looked around at all the smiling faces.
Where is the little girl who baked my gingerbread boy? he asked.
Francie, who had been hiding in the corner, came up to the old gentleman shaking her little yellow head.
She climbed up and perched herself on his knee.
Poor sick man.
Was my little gingerbread boy good?
He was indeed, Mr. King said.
Jasper and Prince and Mr King spent the next few hours in the small busy kitchen, happily chatting and laughing.
The goodness and cheeriness of the peppers warmed the old gentleman's heart, came to tell you that we'll be leaving tomorrow, Mr King said as he rose to go.
Will you give me a kiss, my little girl?
He asked as he bent his handsome old head down to Francie's upturned cheek.
Don't go, Francie said, giving him a peck on the cheek.
I do like you.
I do.
The rest of the Little Peppers were very sad.
Jasper was leaving.
Losing Jasper and Prince felt almost as terrible as losing Ben, Joel, or Davy.
I'll write, Jasper said, trying to cheer everyone up.
You must promise to write me back.
We will, the little pepper solemnly assured him, holding back their tears.
As Mr. King's carriage drove away, the peppers went into their little brown house and shut the door.
