8 They had been several days at the Hague, running about in a restful way in the morning, and driving all the long golden afternoons. Don't you dare to go into a picture gallery or a museum until I give the word, grandpapa had laid down the law. I'm not going to begin by being all tired out." So Polly and Jasper had gone sometimes with Mr. King and Franzi, who had a habit of wandering off by themselves, or, as the case might be, Mr. Henderson would pilot them about till they learned the ways of the old town. And Mrs. Fisher and Mrs. Henderson would confess now and then that they would much rather take a few stitches and overlook traveling clothes than do any more sightseeing.  All but Dr. Fisher, he was for hospitals every time. That's what I've come for, wife, he would reply to all her monstrance. And don't ask me to put my head into a cathedral or museum. To Mr. King, land alive, man, I've got to find out how to take care of the living bodies before I stare at bones and relics. And Mr. King would laugh and let him alone. He's incorrigible, that husband of yours, Mrs. Fisher, he would add, and we must just let him have his way. And Mamsi would smile, and every night the little doctor would come from his tramps and medical study, tired but radiant. That last one morning Grandpa Pa said, Now for Shivenjin. Oh, good, he cried Polly, clapping her hands, then blushed as red as a rose. They were at breakfast and everybody in the vicinity turned and stared at their table. Don't mind it, Polly, said Jasper, her next neighbor, I want to do the same thing. And it will do some of those starched and primed people good to hear a little enthusiasm. Polly knew whom he meant, some young Englishmen. One of them immediately put up his monocle and regarded her as if she had been a new kind of creature displayed for his benefit. Jasper glared back at him. Yes, we'll go to Shivenjin this morning, repeated Mr. King, smiling approvingly at poor Polly, which caused her to lift her head. The carriages are ordered, so as soon as we are through breakfast we will be off. Oh, father, exclaimed Jasper in dismay, must we go in carriages? How else would you go, Jasper, asked his father? Oh, by the tramway, oh, by all means, cried Jasper, perfectly delighted that he could get his father even to listen to any other plan. The dirty tram cars ejaculated Mr. King in disgust. How can you ask it, Jasper? No, indeed, we must go in carriages or not at all.  Polly's face had drooped, too. Mr. King, in looking from one to the other, was dismayed and a good bit annoyed to find that his plan wasn't productive of much happiness after all.   We'll do it now, Polly, whispered Jasper in a transport. When Fronzie looks like that, see her face? Do you really want to go in a dirty old tram car, Fronzie, instead of in a carriage? Old Mr. King pushed back his chair and looked steadily at her. Oh, yes, yes, Grandpa Pa, please! Fronzie beat her hands softly together. To ride on top? May we, dear Grandpa Pa? That dear Grandpa Pa settled it. Jasper never heard such a welcome command as that Mr. King was just issuing. Go to the office and counterman the order for the carriages, my son. Tell them to put the amount on my bill, the same as if I'd use them, unless they get a chance to let them to someone else. They'd needn't to be the losers. Now then, as Jasper bounded off to execute the command, get on your bonnets and hats, all of you, and we'll try this wonderful tram car. I suppose you won't come with us, but stay behind for the pleasure of some hospital here, he added to Dr. Fisher. On the contrary, said the little doctor, throwing down his napkin and getting out of his chair. I am going, for there is a marine hospital for children there that I wouldn't miss for the world. I warrant you find one on a desert island, retorted old Mr. King. Well, hurry now, all of you, and we will be off. Now then, I'll scramble up here. Fronzie, you go with me, cried old Mr. King, as they stood in plain and the tram car halted before them. He was surprised to find that he liked this sort of thing, mixing with the crowd and hurring for seats, just like common ordinary individuals. As he toiled up the winding stairs, Fronzie in front of him, he had an exhilaration already that made him feel almost as young as Polly and Jasper, scampering up the circular stairway at the other end. Well, bless me, we are up, aren't we? He exclaimed, sitting down and casting a glance around. Did you ever see anything so fascinating? Cried Polly Pepper, clasping her hands in delight and not stopping to sit down but looking all around. You had better sit down, advised Mother Fisher, else when the car starts, you may go over the railing. Oh, I can't fall, Mamzy, said Polly carelessly, yet she sat down, while Jasper got out of his seat and ran up to old Mr. King. Now, Father, don't you like it, he cried, and isn't it better than a stuffy old carriage? Yes, I do, my boy, answered his father frankly.  So Jasper, made happy for the day, rushed back to his seat. A hand not overcleaned was laid on it, and a tall individual, who was pouring out very bad provincial French at a fearful rate, was just about to warm himself into it. Polly, who sat next, had turned around to view the scenery from the other side, and hadn't seen his advance. Excuse me, said Jasper, in another torrent of the same language, only of better quality. This is my seat, I only left it to speak to my father. But the Frenchman being there thought that he could get still further into the seat. So he twisted and edged, but Jasper slipped neatly in and looked calmly up at him. The Frenchman, unable to get his balance, sat down in Jasper's lap. But he bounded up again, blue with rage. What's all this? demanded Mr. King, who never could speak French in a hurry, being very elegant at it, and exceedingly careful as to his accent. Franzi turned pale and clung to his hand. Nothing, said Jasper in English, only this person chose to try to take my seat, and I chose to have it myself. You take yourself off, commanded Mr. King, in an irate voice to the French individual, or I'll see that someone attends to your case. Not understanding the language, all might have gone well, but the French person could interpret the expression of the face under the white hair, and he accordingly left a position in front of Jasper to sidle up toward Mr. King's seat in a threatening attitude. At that, Jasper got out of his seat again and went to his father's side. Little Dr. Fisher also skipped up.  His big spectacles had slipped to the end of his nose, his sharp little eyes blazing above them. Franzi stared at him in amazement, unable to find his tongue. And then he saw another gentleman in the person of the person, who was just as big as the doctor was small. With one look, he glanced around to see if there were any more such specimens. At any rate, it was time to be going, so he took a beeline for the nearest stairway and plunged down. But he gave the little doctor the compliment of his parting regard. Well, ejaculated Mr. King when his party had regained their seats and the car started off. If this is to be the style of our companions, I think my plan of carriages might be best after all, eh, my boy? Would the sly look at Jasper? But anything like this might not happen again in a hundred times, father, said Jasper. I suppose I must say yes, I know it to that, said his father. And as everybody had regained composure, he was beginning to feel very happy himself as the car rumbled off. This is fine, he kept saying to himself. The boy knew what was best. And he smiled more than once over at Jasper, who was pointing out this and that to Polly. Jasper nodded back again. Don't let him bother you to see everything, Polly, called Grandpa Pa, take my advice. It's a nuisance to try to compass the whole place on the first visit. But Polly laughed back, and the advice went over her head as he very well knew it would. Was anything ever more beautiful, exclaimed Mother Fisher, drawing in long breaths of delight?  She began to look rested and young already. This journey is the very thing, he declared to himself, and his hard-worked hand slipped itself over her toil-worn one as it lay on her lap.  Adonarem, I never imagined anything like this, she said simply. No more did I, he answered. That's the good of our coming, wife. Just see those beautiful trees so soft and trembling, she exclaimed, as enthusiastically as Polly herself. And what a perfect arch. And she bent forward to glance down the shaded avenue. Oh, Adoriam, what makes the trunks look so green? Polly was crying as they rumbled along. See, Jasper, there isn't a brown branch even. Everything is green. That's what makes it so pretty, said Jasper. I don't wonder these oaks and the Schvenjigenborsches. Oh dear me, I don't know how to pronounce it in the least. Are so celebrated. Don't try, said Polly, to pronounce it, Jasper. I just mark things in my bettaker and let it go. Our bettakers will be a sight when we get home, won't they, Polly? remarked Jasper in a pause when his eyes had been busy to their utmost capacity. I rather think they will, left Polly. Mine is a sight now. Jasper, for I mark all around the edges and just everywhere. But you are always copying off the things into your journals, said Jasper, afterward. So do I mark my bettaker. It's the only way to jot things down in any sort of order. One can't be whipping out a notebook every minute. Hello, here we are at the chateau of the Grand Duke of Saxwimer. Look, Polly, look. As they looked back in the distance to the receding ducal estate, Polly said, it isn't one half as beautiful as this delicious old wood is, Jasper. Just see that perfectly beautiful walk down there and that cunning little trail. Oh, I do wish we could stay here. Someday, let us ask Dr. Fisher to come out with us, and we will tramp it. Oh, I forgot he won't leave the hospitals. Mr. Henderson might like to, said Polly, in a glow. Let's ask him sometime anyway, Jasper. And then, just think, we can go all in and out of this lovely wood. How fine. Father will come over to Chevengen again and stay a few days, maybe, said Jasper. If he takes a fancy to the idea, how would you like that, Polly? Oh, I don't know, said Polly, because I haven't seen it yet, Jasper. I know. I forgot. Twasilly in me to ask such a question, said Jasper, with a laugh. Well, anyway, I think it more likely that he will. I just love the hag, declared Polly with the backward glance down the Green Avenue. I hope we are going to stay there ever so long, Jasper. Then we shan't get on to all the other places, said Jasper. We shall feel just as badly to leave every other one, I suppose, Polly. I suppose so, said Polly, with a sigh. When they left the tram car at the beginning of the village of Chevengen, they set off on a walk down the Kurhas and the beach. Old Mr. King, as young as anyone, stared out at the promenade on the undulating terrace at the top of the dunes, followed by the rest of his party. Down below ran a level road. There is the boulevard, said Grandpa Pa. See, child? Pointing to it. But Francie had no eyes for anything but the hundreds and hundreds of bath chairs dotting the sands. Oh, Grandpa Pa, what are they? She cried, pulling his hand and pointing to them. Those are chairs, answered Mr. King. And by and by, we will go down and get into some of them. They look just like big sunbonnets that Grandma Bascom always wore when she went out to feed her hens, don't they, Jasper? Precisely, he said, bursting into a laugh. How you always do see funny things, Polly.  Whatever can they be, Jasper? Oh, those are advertisements, said Jasper. You'll find that everything is plastered up in that way abroad. Just as the omnibuses in London are all covered up with posters, said Polly. Weren't they funny, Jasper? Yes, indeed, lipped in teas. I got so tired of that. And these, cocoa or chocolate. You know, Holland is full of manufacturers of it. And isn't it good, cried Polly, smacking her lips as she feasted on it since their arrival in Holland? Grandpa Pa, considering it especially good and pure. I should say so, echoed Jasper, smacking his lips, too. Dr. Fisher. The person turned to address his neighbor, but there was no little doctor. Oh, he is off long ago, said his wife, to his beloved hospital. What is it, Samuel? I was only going to remark that I don't believe I ever saw so many people together before. Just look. He pointed down to the boulevard and off to the sands along the beach. It is a swarm, isn't it? Said his wife, well, we must go, for Mr. King is going down to the boulevard. Polly and Jasper, running in and out of the fascinating shops by the concert terrace, had minds divided by the desire to stay on the sands and to explore further the tempting interiors. We must get something for the boys, she declared, jingling her little silver purse. Just let us go in this one now. Then we'll run after Grandpa Pa. He's going down to the sands. He's going to sit with Franzi and some of those big sun bonnets of yours, Polly, said Jasper. There they are, pointing at them. Well, we'll go in this shop. I want to get a pair of those wooden shoes for Joel. And they hurried in. Oh, how fine, exclaimed Polly. Well, I saw a carved bear I think Davy would like and the rest was lost in the confusing array of tempting things spread out for their choice by the deft shopkeepers. When they emerged, Polly had a china windmill and an ink stand of delftware and several other things, and Jasper carried all the big bundles. Oh, dear me, said Polly, now we must run or we shan't have much time to stay on the beach. And besides, Grandpa Pa will worry over us if we're not there. We can't run much loaded down with this, said Jasper, looking at his arm full and laughing, or we'll likely drop half of them and smash them to pieces. Wait a bit, Polly.  They stopped at the top of the stone stairway leading down to the sands where some comely, present women, fisherman's wives, held great baskets of fruits, and in one hand was a pair of scales. Now then, what will you have, Polly? Oh, some grapes, please, Jasper, said Polly. Aren't they the most beautiful? I should say they were. They are black hamburgs, declared Jasper. Now then, my good woman, give us a couple of pounds. He put down the coin she asked for, and she weighed them out in her scales and did them up in a piece of Dutch newspaper.  Since we've all these grapes to carry, oh, dear me, there goes one. Never mind, said Jasper, looking over his arm full of presents to investigate his paper of grapes. If we don't lose but one, we're lucky. And there goes another one, announced Polly, as they picked their way over and threw the thick sand. Well, I declare, exclaimed old Mr. King, peering out of his bath chair, if you children aren't loaded down. He was eating black hamburg grapes. Franzi sat opposite him, almost lost in the depths of another bath chair, similarly occupied. And at a little remove was the remainder of the party, and they were all in bath chairs and eating black hamburg grapes. We've had such fun, sighed Polly, and she and Jasper cast their bundles on the soft sand. Then she threw herself down next to them and pushed up the little brown rings from her damp brow. Jasper said his paper of grapes in her lap then rushed off, I'll get you a bath chair, he said, beckoning to a attendant. Oh, Jasper, I'd much rather sit on the sand, called Polly. So had I, he confessed, running back and throwing himself down beside her. Now then, do begin on your grapes, Polly. We'll begin together, she said, poking out open the paper. Oh, aren't they good though? I should rather say they were, declared Jasper. Dear me, what a bunch. It's not as big as mine, said Polly, holding up hers to the light. You made me take that one, Jasper. It's not better than mine, said Jasper, eating away. I'm gonna hop into one of the chairs just a minute before we go, said Polly, nodding at the array along the beach and eating her grapes busily to see how they feel.  Oh, I don't want to, I really and truly don't, Jasper. Polly made haste to cry. I like the sand ever, ever so much better. I only want to see for a minute what it's like to be in one of those funny old things. Then I should want to hop out with all my might. I just know I should. I'm of your mind, said Jasper, coming back to his seat on the sand again. They must be very stuffy, Polly. Well, now you are here. Would you like to come back to Chevengen in a few days, Polly? I think I should, said Polly, slowly, bringing her gaze around over the sea to the dunes, the beach, with the crowds of people of all nationalities and the peasant folk. If we could just stay as long for all of that at the dear old hag. And just then, old Mr. King was saying to Franzi, we will come out here again, child, and stay a week. Yes, he said to himself, I will engage the rooms before we go back this afternoon. Grandpa Pa, asked Franzi, laying her hand on his knee, can I have this very same little house next time we come? Well, I don't know, said Mr. King, peering up and down Franzi's bath chair, adorned with the most lively descriptions of the merits of cocoa as a food. They're all alike as two peas, except for the matter of the chocolate and cocoa trimmings. But perhaps I can fix it, Franzi, so that you can have this identical one, mentally resolving to do that very thing. Well, come, Franzi, we must go now and get our luncheon.  It's a nice little house, Grandpa, and I love it very much. End of chapter eight. Chapter nine of Five Little Peppers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter nine, A Box for the Pepper Boys. Mamsi, have we been here a whole week in Amsterdam? Cried Polly, leaning out of the window to look up and down the canal where the many colored boats lay. Besides all those days at Scavening, I can't believe it. It doesn't seem possible, Mother Fisher answered musingly, and her hands dropped to her lap where they lay quietly folded. Mamsi, Polly suddenly drew in her gaze from the charming old canal and its boats and sprang to Mrs. Fisher's side. Do you know, I think it was just the loveliest thing in all the world for Grandpa Pot to bring dear Mr. and Mrs. Henderson abroad with us? I do, Mamsi. Mr. King is always doing good, kind things, said Mrs. Fisher, coming out of her reverie as Polly threw herself down on the floor and laid her head in her mother's lap, just as she used to do at home. I haven't done this for so long, she said, and it is so good. That is the only drawback about travel, observed Mother Fisher, her hand passing soothingly over Polly's head, that there never seems to be time for the little homeways that are so good. Now we must make the time and keep it, Polly. Indeed we will, cried Polly, seizing Mamsi's other hand to cuddle it under her chin, and I'm going to begin right now. It makes me think of the little brown house, Mamsi, whenever you smooth my hair. What good times we used to have there. Mrs. Fisher's hand trembled a bit, but the black eyes were as serene as ever. You used to work pretty hard, Polly, she said. Oh, but it was fun, said Polly merrily. Only I didn't like the old stove when it acted badly, but then came my new stove. Mamsi wasn't Papa Fisher's splendid, and then he saved my eyes. Just think, Mamsi, I never can love him half enough. I wish I could do something for him, she mourned, just as she did in the old days.  Never think that you don't do anything.  Did he say that?  Oh, I want to be, but I don't know how to help him. Papa Fisher always seems to be doing something for other people and not to need anybody to do things for him. Ah, Polly, when you have lived longer, said Mrs. Fisher, you will know that those who are doing things always for other people are the very ones who need cheering up, for they never complain. Your father, in going about as he does day after day to the hospitals and everywhere where he can learn anything that will make him a better doctor, is working very hard indeed and yet think how cheerful he is when he comes home and he says you help to keep him so Polly. She bent over and set a kiss on Polly's red cheek. Mamzy cried Polly with a glow where the kiss had dropped. I'm going to try harder than ever to see whenever I can find a time to help Papa Doctor and I hope that one will come soon. And you'll find just such a time will come. It never fails to when you watch for it, said Mother Fisher wisely. Just then the door opened and Franzy, fresh from the hands of Matilda, who had been changing her gown, came in with Araminta in her arms. When she saw Polly on the floor with her head in Mamzy's lap, she got down by her side and curled up there too. Smooth my hair, do Mamzy, she begged. Mamzy's got her two bothers, said Polly with a little laugh. Mamzy doesn't mind her bothers, said Mrs. Fisher, her other hand going softly over Franzy's yellow hair, at which Franzy gave a small sigh of content and wriggled her toes as they were stretched out straight before her on the carpet. If only they grow up a little better every day than they were the day before. We'll try to Mamzy, said Polly, won't be pet, leaning over and kissing her. I'll try to, promised Franzy, with another wriggle of her small toes. That's right, said Mother Fisher, smiling approval. Mrs. Fisher called Grand Papa's voice at the door. Thereupon Polly and Franzy sprang to their feet and a lively race ensued to see which should be there the first to open it. The consequence was that both faces met him at once. Bless me, cried old Mr. King, laughing gaily, as the door flew open and they both rushed into his arms. So you did like to have your old grandfather come to see you, he exclaimed, mightily pleased. I should think we did, cried Polly, as they escorted him in and led him to the seat of honor, a big carved armchair with a faded tapestry covering. I should very much like to get into your lap, Grand Papa dear, said Franzy, surveying him gravely as he sat down and leaned his head against the chair back. So you shall, cried Mr. King, lifting her up to his knee, era minta and all. She perched there in quiet content while he set forth his business which he had come to talk over with Mother Fisher. Now you know those three boys of yours are the most splendid boys that ever were in all this world and they are working away at home studying and all that. Joel and David are and Ben is pegging away at business. Old Mr. King thought best to go to the heart of the matter at once without any dallying. Mrs.  Him, well, we don't talk much about those boys, observed the old gentleman, because it makes us all homesick after them and it's best that they should be there and that we should be here. So that was settled once for all by our coming. Still Mrs. Fisher said not a word. Well now the fact of it is, continued old Mr. King, still keeping to the main point with wonderful directness. I think the time has come for us to act which is much better than talking in my opinion and I want to do something for those boys. A pin could have been heard to drop. Polly leaned over his chair and hung on his words while Mrs. Fisher never took her eyes from his face. In short, continued old Mr. King, well pleased with the attention of his audience. I propose that we send a box of good things of various descriptions to Ben and Joel and David. A small howl of delight from Polly broke the silence. When she heard that, Franzi gave a little crow. Oh, Grandpa Pa, exclaimed Polly, do you really mean it? And she threw her arms around his neck. Franzi immediately clambered up and did the same thing.  She hasn't said a word yet, whether she likes the idea or not. It's just because I couldn't speak at first, said Mrs. Fisher, wiping her eyes and her voice trembled. But it's the very thing, and oh, thank you, sir, for thinking of it. The boys won't be so homesick for us when they get the box, and it will be the best thing in the world for us to keep busy, so we can't worry about them. Mamsi has said yes, exclaimed Polly, flying off to dance around and around in the middle of the room. Oh, I wish Jasper was here. She cried regretfully, breaking short off. Go and call him then. He's down in the reading room, writing to the boys. And bring him up here, said old Mr. King. No, no, Franzi, you want to stay and take care of me. As Franzi showed signs of slipping down from his lap to go to. I'll stay and take care of you, said Franzi, obediently. Just let me lay Araminta down, Grandpa Pa, on the sofa, and then I'll come back and rub your head. So she got down and set Araminta up straight against the sofa back, and then came and clambered up again into his lap. By this time, Polly and Jasper, racing along the hall, had reached Mother Fisher's room. That's regularly splendid, Father. Jasper tossed his dark hair back from his forehead, and his eyes sparkled. Oh, can't we go out right away and begin to buy the presents? I shouldn't think that idea was a half-bad one, said old Mr. King. What do you say, Mrs. Fisher? If we are going to send the box, why isn't it best to begin the work at once? There's never so good a time as now, in my opinion. I'm sure you agree with me. Unmother Fisher saying yes. All three of the young people took hold of hands and danced around the room in glee. For old Mr. King set Franzi down with... There, go, child, and spin with the others.  And in less time than it takes to write it, old Mr. King and Mother Fisher and Jasper and Polly and Franzi, all hurried out of the hotel, and began a round of the shops to get the things together for the wonderful box to go home to the boys. And though Polly didn't know it, several other things that boys wouldn't be supposed to care for in the least were slyly added to the purchases when she wasn't looking to be sent home to the hotel in separate parcels to Mr. King. For Polly was going to have a birthday before very long, though she had quite forgotten it in the excitement over this box for Ben and Joel and David. It's just like buying things for Christmas, isn't it, Jasper? Said Polly as they hung over the showcases and peered into windows. Only everything is so funny here. Oh, no, Franzi, that won't do. It's too big. As Franzi protested that nothing was so nice as a huge delft plate hanging on the wall, there was a big windmill and several little windmills in the distance along a Dutch canal and two or three cows in the foreground and a peasant girl with a basket in her hand. Franzi stood and gazed at it all the time they were in this particular shop. I like that little girl, she said, and those cows, and they are like Deacon Blotchett's cows at home in Badger Town. And Ben would like it and Joel and David. And all Polly could do, she would still say, I like it, Polly, and I want grandpa to send it. At last Polly turned in despair to Jasper. Oh, what can we do? She cried. She is just as determined as she was when she would send the gingerbread boy to grandpa Pa. Well, I think we would better not try to get her away from the idea, said Jasper, with a look at the wrapped little face. Franzi was now kneeling on a Flemish oak chair and studying the delft plate with absorbed attention. No, said Polly with a sigh. I suppose it isn't any use to try when she looks like that. Just then, old Mr. King, who had been busy in a farther corner with the proprietor of the shop, picking out some small articles that struck his fancy, turned and called Franzi. She didn't hear him, being too absorbed. And so he laid down the little silver paper cutter he was looking at and came over to see what was the matter. Well, child, he said, looking over her shoulder. And so you like that, eh? Franzi drew a long breath. I do, Grandpa Pa, like it very much indeed, she said. Well then, I don't see but what you must have it, and it shall hang in your own little room at home, Franzi. But I don't want it for my very own, Grandpa Pa, said Franzi. It must go in the box for Ben and Joel and David. Dear me, you think they would like it, Franzi? He asked doubtfully, and just on the point of saying, like Polly, It's too big a child. When he stopped himself and finished up. And so it pleases you, Franzi. Yes it does, said Franzi, with an emphatic little nod. I love that nice cow and that little girl. Grandpa Pa, I think I should like to live in a windmill. Bless me, I think you wouldn't want to live there very long, child. Well, the plate shall go to the boys, and I only hope they will like it, he said to himself dubiously. He is going to send it, Jasper and Polly said to each other, peering round an angle in the shop at the two. Well, well, it's a mercy it's got a cow on it instead of a cat, said Jasper. How Joel would how if Franzi sent him the picture of a cat? She would if there were a cat to be found, said Polly. Don't you believe Jasper, but what she would? End of chapter nine. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Chapter 10 of Five Little Peppers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 10, Danger. Well, the box that went home across the seas to the pepper boys was a marvel. Stuffed in every nook and cranny where there was a possibility that the tiniest parcel could be tucked until Franzi, who kept bringing up more bundles, had to be told by Polly and Jasper, who did the packing, that no more could go in. They are very small, said Franzi, curling up on the floor by the side of the big box, almost overflowing with billows of the soft white paper on top and holding up two pudgy little bundles. So you've said for the last hour, Franzi, exclaimed Polly in despair and sitting quite straight her hands in her lap. Jasper, what shall we do? He was over by the window laying out the long nails that were to fasten the cover on, for no one must touch this precious box but the loving hands that got it ready. Oh, we can't, began Jasper. Then he turned and saw Franzi's face. Perhaps one might be crowded in, he added, with a look at Polly. Which one would you rather have Polly make a try at, Franzi? This one, she said, holding up the pudgiest bundle, because this is the China cat and I want Joel to have that. Down went Polly's head on the edge of the box. Jasper dropped the long nails and hurried over to her. I can't help it, Polly's shoulders were shaking and she added gustily, oh, dear me, and Joel does so hate cats. Franzi, I think I can tuck in that parcel. Jasper made haste to say, there, give it to me, child. And he took it out of her hand. For Joel was written across it in unsteady letters. Is Polly sick? Asked Franzi, wonderingly, as she resigned her cat into his hands. No, only a bit tired, I think, answered Jasper. Well, now, Franzi, I think there is just room enough to tuck that parcel in this corner, said Jasper, crowding his fingers down in between the various bundles to make a space. There, in it pops, suiting the action to the word. I am so very glad, said Franzi, smoothing her brown gown in great satisfaction. For then Joel will know that I sent it all by myself. He'll know that nobody else sent it, said Polly to herself. And I know it's a perfectly awful cat, for Franzi always picks out the very ugliest she can find. Well, the box was off at last, the pepper children and Jasper seeing it till the very last minute. And old Mr. King was nearly as excited as the young folks. And the parson and Mrs. Henderson said it reminded them of Christmas times over again, and Mother Fisher and the little doctor were in a great state of happiness. And that night, when Polly was in bed, and Mother Fisher came into her room and Franzi's, which opened into her own to say good night, Polly turned on her pillow. Mamzy, she said, I do so very much wish that we could send a box to the Henderson boys. They must be so homesick for their mother and father. Mrs. Fisher stopped and thought of it. A very good idea, Polly, she said, and I'm glad you thought of it. I'll speak to your father and see if he approves before we say anything to Mr. King. You see, said Polly, rolling over to get hold of one of Mother Fisher's hands and speaking very fast. Of course the Henderson boys are having a good time at dear Deacon Blodgets, but then their mother and father are away off. Oh, Mamzy. She reached over and threw both arms around her mother and hugged her tightly. Yes, I know Polly, said Mother Fisher, holding her big girl to her heart, and we must look out for other people's boys. That's what you mean to say, isn't it? Yes, said Polly, happy that Mamzy always understood. And now that Ben's and Joel's and David's box is off, why I wish we could, Mamzy, send the other one. I really think it can be done, said Mrs. Fisher. But I must ask your father first.  She glanced over at the other little bed where Franzi's yellow head was lost in dreams. You know, we are going to mark him tomorrow. I know, said Polly, with a happy little wriggle under the bedclothes. And it never would do for you to be all tired out in the morning. That would be very unkind to dear Mr. King, who was trying so hard to make us all happy, continued Mrs. Fisher. I know, said Polly again. Well, good night, Mamzy. She said three or four kisses on Mother Fisher's cheek, then turned over with her face to the wall. I'll shut the door until you get to sleep, Polly, said Mrs. Fisher. Then I will open it again, as she went out. As Mother Fisher had said, they were going to the island of Markin' tomorrow. And Polly tumbled to sleep with her head full of all the strange things they were to see there, and that Jasper and she had been reading about, how the people wore the same kind of funny costume that their great great ever so many times great grandfathers and grandmothers had worn, and how the houses were of different colors and built in different layers or mounds of land, with cunning little windows and scarcely any stairs, and how they were going in the haying season when everybody would be out raking up and gleaning. And, and, Polly was completely lost in her happy dreams. Somebody seemed to be pulling her arm. What? Oh, she remembered they were going to Markin', and she must hurry and get her bath and fly into her clothes. Yes, mamzy, she cried, flying up to sit straight in the bed. I'll get right up and dress. Oh, won't we have fun? Polly, said Mother Fisher, she had on a dressing gown and her black hair was hanging down her back. She looked pale and worried. Polly could see that, although she blinked at the sudden light. It isn't morning, but the middle of the night. You must get up this minute. Pull on your shoes. Don't stop for stockings and slip into your wrapper. Don't ask questions as Polly's lips moved. Polly obeyed with an awful feeling at her heart. She glanced at Franzy's little bed. She was not there. Mrs. Fisher threw the pink wrapper over her head. Polly thrust her arms into the sleeves, feeling as if she were sinking way down. Now come. And mamzy seized her hand and hurried her through her own room without another word. It was empty. Father Fisher and Franzy were nowhere to be seen. And now for the first time, Polly was conscious of a great noise out in the corridor. It seemed to spread and fasten itself to a number of other noises and something made Polly feel clearly in her throat as if she should choke. She looked up in her mother's eyes as they sped through the room. Yes, Polly, said Mother Fisher. It is fire. The hotel is on fire. You will be brave, my child, I know. Franzy gasped Polly. They were now in the corridor and hurrying along. She is safe. Her father took her. Oh, mamzy, Jasper and Grandpa Pa. They know it. Your father ran and told them. Obey me, Polly. Come. Mrs. Fisher's firm hand on her arm really hurt Polly as they hurried on through the dense waves of smoke that now engulfed them. Oh, mamzy, not this way. We must find the stairs. But Mrs. Fisher held her with firmer fingers than ever and they turned into a narrower hall up toward a blinking red light that sent a small bright spark out through the thick smoke and in a minute or very much less, they were out on the fire escape and looking down to here for they couldn't see Jasper's voice calling from below. We are all here, Polly. And be careful, wife, how you come down from Dr. Fisher. Oh, cried Polly as the little group drew her and mamzy into their arms. Are we all here? Yes, Polly. Yes, yes, answered Jasper.  But we shouldn't have been, but for this doctor of ours. And Mr. and Mrs. Henderson, cried Polly, shivering at Grandpa Pa's words. We are here, dear child, said the parson's wife, pressing forward and then the crowd surged up against them this way and that and more people came down on the fire escape and some were screaming and saying they had lost everything and they must go back for their jewels. And one woman brought down a big feather pillow and set it carefully on the grass. She was so crazed with fright. Oh, dear, dear, can't we help them? Cried Polly, wringing her hands. Look at that, girl. She was about as old as Polly and she rushed by them, plunging into the thickest of the crowd, surging up against the fire escape. I'm going up, she kept screaming. Polly remembered her face as she flashed by. She sat at the next table to theirs in the dining room with a slender gentle little old lady whom she called Grandma Ma. Oh, dear, groaned Polly, we must help her. Jasper dashed after the girl and Polly ran too. He laid his hand on the arm of the flying figure as she broke through the crowd, but she shook him off like a feather. She's up there, pointing above, and I must get her. One of the firemen seized her and held her fast. Jasper sprang for the fire escape. Jasper called Polly hoarsely.  Oh, she turned at a cry from the girl whose arms were around a bent, shaking little figure, and they had both sunk to the ground. I brought her down long ago, said another fireman who could speak English, pointing to the white-haired old lady who, unhearing her granddaughter's voice, had pushed her way through the crowd as Dr. Fisher hurried up. And then Mr. King and his party gathered his group and they hurried to another hotel close by. Jasper and Mr. Henderson and Mother Fisher waiting to see to the belongings of the party. For the fire was now subdued, although the guests had to go elsewhere for shelter and the little doctor was in his element, taking care of the old lady and then he rushed off to look after a score or more of other fainting women. But nobody was really hurt. The smoke and the panic had been the worst. Only the poor thing who had dragged down the feather pillow sat by it till the little doctor discovering her, called two stout men who took her up in their arms. She screaming all the while for her treasure and bore her to a neighboring house that kindly opened its doors to some of the people so suddenly thrown out of shelter. And it wasn't till near breakfast time that the little doctor came to the hotel that was now their home. Brain fever patient, he said briefly. Wife, I must get a cold plunge or I'll be having it next. And when breakfast was really set before their party, he appeared with the others fresh from his bath and as cheery as if nothing had happened to break his good night's rest. Oh dear me, how did you ever get so many things over here in all this world and why didn't you let me stay with you? Polly had exclaimed in one breath, looking at the array of dresses, sacks, and hats disposed around the room and Mamzy was kneeling before an open trunk to take out more. It wasn't best Polly, said her mother, who had longed for Polly as no one knew better than did Mother Fisher herself. You were really needed here with grandpa and Franzy. You truly were, my dear. I know, said Polly. Well, do let me take those out, Mamzy. You're tired to death already.  She seized it and hugged it with delight. Did you suppose I could come back without that flag, exclaimed Mother Fisher in a reproving tone, when you've put it up in your room every place where we've stopped? Why Polly? No, Mamzy, I really didn't think you could. I answered Polly quickly and running to her little silk flag and all to throw her arms around her neck. Only, it's so good to see the dear thing again. You may take the things from me and hang them up somewhere, said her mother. That will help me the most, giving her an armful. I don't see how you ever thought of so many things, Mamzy, exclaimed Polly going off with her armful. I brought all I thought we needed just at first, said Mother Fisher, diving into the trunk depths again. How did you ever do it? cried Polly for the fiftieth time, as she sorted and hung the various garments in their proper places. Oh, Jasper helped me pack them, and then he got the hotel porter to bring over the trunks, answered Mother Fisher, her head in the trunk. I've locked up our rooms and got the keys so I can get the rest by and by. But how did you first hear of the fire? asked Polly, when they were all finally seated around the breakfast table. Little Mrs. Gray, for so the white-haired old lady was called and her granddaughter Adela being invited to join. Do tell me, Mamzy, I don't understand, she added in a puzzled way. No, you were talking about Marken in your sleep, said Mother Fisher, when I went to call you, and how you would be ready in the morning. Marken, repeated old Mr. King, looking up from the egg he was carefully breaking for Franzi so that she might eat it from the shell. So we were going there this morning. Well, we won't see that island now for a good many days, at least till we get over this fright. Besides, we have things to settle here and to get comfortably fixed. But we'll have that excursion all in good time, never fear. Well, how did you, Mamzy? Polly begged again. First hear of the fire. Do tell me. Somebody made a good deal of noise down in the corridor, said Mother Fisher, and your father went out to see what was the matter and then he came back and told me what to do and he took Franzi and went for old Mr. King. But he had sent a porter to warn them in 165 and they would tell the Henderson's in the next room before he ran upstairs to me. It was a long speech for Mother Fisher.  How did you know where the fire escape was? Oh, that was your father's doings too, said Mother Fisher. She couldn't help but show her pride. He told me all about it the first day we got to the hotel. He always does. He says it's better to know these things. Wife, wife, begged the little doctor imploringly. I'm going to tell Adoniram, said Mother Fisher proudly, the whole story they ought to know. Indeed we had, and so you shall, commanded Mr. King from the head of the table. I can't help it, I really must, exclaimed Polly, hopping out of her chair. There were no other people in the breakfast room besides their party, so really it wasn't so very dreadful after all.  Oh, Papa Fisher, she cried, setting ever so many kisses on his cheeks under the big spectacles. You've saved all our lives. There, there, Polly, cried the little doctor quite overcome. And ours too, said little Mrs. Gray in a shaking voice. End of chapter 10. Recording by Linda Lee-Piquette. Chapter 11 of Five Little Peppers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee-Piquette. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 11. The two birthdays in Old Holland. And Polly never knew about a certain shelf in Grandpa Papa's closet, nor how full it was getting when Jasper ran every now and then to add the gifts as fast as the different members of the party picked up pretty things in the shops for the coming birthday, now very near. And she actually forgot all about the birthday itself, all her mind being set on the Henderson box so soon to sail off over the sea. And Mother Fisher would look over at her absorbed face and smile to watch her in the shops, picking out things for the Henderson boys. And old Mr. King would send many a King glance at her. And Jasper had hard work not to exclaim, oh Polly, Father has got you a, and then he'd pull himself up and rush off into some great plant by Policia Henderson, something that a Badger Town boy ought to have. And Francie was carefully guarded on all sides these days, lest she should let out the great secret. For, of course, she ought to be in the very center of all these preparations to celebrate Polly's birthday in Old Amsterdam, so she knew everything just as soon as it was planned.  Oh, are you going out? For she didn't see that he held his hat in his hand till he turned in the corridor. I can wait just as well if it's anything you want, Mrs. Fisher, he said gladly, controlling his surprise at her unusual manner. I was only about to run down to the Calvastrot for a little matter I just thought of for the birthday. Can I do anything for you? he begged. Yes, it's just that, said Mrs. Fisher hurriedly. It's about the birthday. I must speak quickly. I've just found out. She glanced up and down the corridor as if fully expecting to see Polly dash around a corner. That Adela Gray's birthday is tomorrow. The Dickens, you don't say, exploded Mr. King. Well now, I call that very clever on your part to have found it out. Very clever indeed, Mrs. Fisher, he repeated, beaming at her. And just in time, for it would have been a dreadful thing indeed to have had that poor little girl left out, and her birthday too, dear me. It would indeed, said Mrs. Fisher hurriedly, with a shiver at the mere thought. And we might as well have had no celebration in such a case, for Polly wouldn't have enjoyed a single bit of it, not an atom, declared old Mr. King, bringing his walking stick heavily down on the floor. What is it? Oh, Grandpa Pa, what is it? And Polly came hurrying along the corridor, and Jasper after her. Here she comes, exclaimed Grandpa Pa in a fright. Glad you told me. Hush, oh dear me, I'll take care of the gifts. And I'm to do the rest, just the same, Dr. Fisher and I. Remember? It was all Mrs. Fisher had time to utter. Even then, Polly cut the last words in the flurry. Oh, what is it, Mamzy? Is anything the matter with Papa Doctor?  Polly, Mrs. Fisher looked into the brown eyes with a steady glance, and all the hurry was gone out of her voice. Your father is all right. And now, run away, you and Jasper. She looked over Polly's shoulder at him as she spoke. No, not another word, child. And away Mrs. Fisher hurried, while old Mr. King slipped off in the opposite direction. How funnily they act, said Polly, looking first after one and then another with a puzzled face. What can it be, Jasper? Oh well, I suppose they are in a hurry, said Jasper, as carelessly as he could. Never mind, Polly. Everything is all right. Oh, I say, let's fix our stamp books. But I was going to ask Grandpa Papa to go out with us, and now he's gone by himself. And Polly's face grew more puzzled than ever. Polly, said Jasper desperately, I really think we ought to fix our stamp books. I really do. And he took her hand. My stamps are all in heaps in the envelopes, and in a mess generally. Come, let's begin now. Do. And he led her back down the corridor.  And that afternoon there was another narrow escape when it seemed as if the secret really must pop out. Polly, rushing along to the reading room opposite the big dining room, saw Mother Fisher in consultation with the head waiter, and he was saying cake. And then he stopped suddenly, and Mrs. Fisher turned and saw her. And Mamsey came across the hall and into the reading room and sat there a bit, while Polly tossed off a letter to Alexia Reese that had been worrying her for days. And there was a funny little smile tucked away in the corners of Mother Fisher's mouth, and Polly thought that things were getting queerer than ever.  I know it, said Polly, wrinkling her brows, and I didn't mean to let this wait so long, scribbling away as fast as she could. Take care, Polly, warned her mother, but carelessly written letter is no compliment, and it gets you in a bad way. Don't hurry, so child, as Polly's pen went scratching across the paper at a fearful rate. But there are so many letters to write to all the girls, said Polly, stopping a minute to look at your mother. And I've only just got all the letters in my steamer mailbag answered. I must write to Kathy and Felina and Amy Garrett too today, Mamsey, she added in distress. Polly, said Mother Fisher, looking into the flushed face, I tell you what would be the best way for you to do it. All the letters in your mailbag are answered, you said. Yes, indeed, declared Polly. Oh, Mamsey, you didn't think I could put those off, she asked reproachfully. No, Polly, I really didn't. Mrs. Fisher made haste to assure her. Well, now, Mother will tell you what will be the best way for you to do. Write as good a letter as you can to Alexia and tell her to send it around to all the girls for a kind of bulletin, and. Oh, Mamsey Fisher, cried Polly, not stopping to hear the rest, but deserting the writing table to run and throw her arms around her mother's neck.  Oh, oh, now I shan't have but one letter to write. How fine. And you must write that one letter very nicely, Polly, and take ever so much pains with it, said Mother Fisher, her black eyes shining at the happy solution. And that is much better than to hurry off a good many slovenly ones. Besides, it is not well to take your time and strength for too much letter writing, for there are other boys, and Mrs. Whitney, and. Grandma Baskham, and dear Mrs. Bebe, finished Polly. Oh, I couldn't ever forget them, Mamsey, in all this world. She stopped cuddling Mother Fisher's neck to peer into the black eyes. No, you mustn't ever forget them. Repeated Mrs. Fisher emphatically. In all this world, Polly. Well, get to work now over your one letter that's to be a bulletin. I shall tear this one up, declared Polly, running back to get into her chair again.  She cried with a very red face. I didn't know it did look so bad. And she tore it clear across the page and then snipped it into very little bits. That's the result of hurry, observed Mother Fisher wisely. And I would begin all over again, Polly. So Polly took a fresh sheet and set to work. And Mrs. Fisher, seeing her so busily occupied, soon stole out. And there was the head waiter waiting for her in the dining room. And Polly never heard a word they said, although cake was mentioned a great many times and several other things too. But the next morning, Polly Pepper woke up to the fact that it was her birthday. For there was Mamzy leaning over her pillow. The first thing she saw the minute her eyes were opened and Franzy was sitting on the end of the bed with her hands folded in her lap. When she saw Polly's eyes open, she gave a little crow and darted forward. Oh, I thought you never would wake up, Polly, she said, throwing her arms around Polly's neck. Yes, this child has been sitting there a whole hour, Polly. Mother Fisher gave a merry little laugh and then she began to drop kisses on Polly's rosy cheek, ever so many of them. Polly's dewy eyes opened wide. It's your birthday, don't you know? Mamzy exclaimed Franzy, trying to drop as many kisses and as fast on Polly's other cheek and to talk at the same time. Mamzy Fisher cried Polly, springing up straight in the middle of the bed, nearly knocking Franzy over. Why so it is? Oh, how could I forget and sleep over? And I'm 15.  And it's the best thing you could possibly do to sleep over, child. Now then, Franzy, let us help her to get dressed. Wasn't there a merry time, though, for the next half hour till Polly had had her bath and was arrayed. Mother Fisher and Franzy here, there, and everywhere, helping to tie and to hook Polly's clothes. Franzy, bringing her little silver button-hook that Auntie Whitney gave her, declaring that she should button Polly's boots. Oh, no, child, protested Polly. I'll button them myself, flying off for the boots. But Franzy piped out, hurrying after her. I have them, Polly. And sure enough, there they were, one under each arm. Do let me, Polly, do please, she begged. I would, Polly, advised Mrs. Fisher, for Franzy really has set her heart on doing it. So Polly sat down in the low chair and put out her foot, feeling very queer indeed, and as if she ought to be doing up Franzy's boots instead. And Franzy curled up on the floor and patiently drew every one of the buttons into place and buttoned them fast, and then on with the other boot. Now I did do them all by myself. She announced, getting up from the floor and smoothing down her gown with much importance. I did truly, Polly. So you did pit, cried Polly, sticking out both feet to look at them.  Now my toes will be just as happy all day. Oh, you can't think how happy they'll be. And she seized her half smothering her with kisses. Will they? Cried Franzy, coming out of the embrace to peer up into Polly's face in a transport. Will your toes really and truly be happy, Polly? They'll be so happy, declared Polly with a little wriggle of each foot that they'll want to sing, only they can't. And she burst out into a little laugh. Put on your blue dress, Polly, said Mother Fisher, coming out of the closet to hurry operations a bit. Oh, Mamzy, begged Franzy, may Polly wear her white one? Do Mamzy, please? She ran up to her mother pleadingly.  But this morning she would better put on her blue gingham. Yes, that's best, said Polly reassuringly, running off to get it out of the big bureau drawer. It's all done up, spick and span, drawing it out. Mamzy, don't these Dutch women do up things well though? They do indeed, assented Mrs. Fisher with a critical eye for the blue gingham. But I really suppose the Swiss beat them Polly. Well, they must be just perfect then, said Polly, putting the blue gown carefully over her head. Mamzy, I just love this dress. Yes, it is pretty, said Mother Fisher, with an approving eye for the dainty ruffles.  I used to get them all messed up just as soon as could be, mourned Polly, her cheeks rosy at the remembrance. Mamzy, how much trouble I've made you. She stopped dressing and spraying over to Mrs. Fisher. Fronzy, trying to button on the waistband and clinging to it, went stumbling after. Take care, mourned Mrs. Fisher. Don't mess it, it looks so nice now. There, there, Fronzy, I'll do that, said Polly, a trifle impatiently looking over her shoulder. Oh, I want to Polly, said Fronzy, fumbling for the button. Do that, me, I want to. No, I can do it myself, said Polly, trying to whirl off from the busy little fingers. Polly, began Mother Fisher, who saw what Polly couldn't.  Well, I declare, cried Polly, at sound of her mother's tone. So you shall, Fronzy. Now I'll stand just as still as a mouse, and you shall make that old button fly into its hole. So he shall, old button fly into his hole, laughed Fronzy through her tears, and presently she declared it was done. And with a final pat, this time from Mother Fisher's fingers, Polly was released, and the rest of the dressing was soon done. And there, waiting at the end of their corridor, was Jasper, in every conceivable way, trying to get the better of his impatience. When he did finally see Polly, he dashed up to her. Well, are you really here? Yes, cried Polly, scampering on, with Fronzy clinging to her hand. I really believe I am, Jasper. But don't let's go faster than Mamzy, looking back for her. You all run on, said Mother Fisher, laughing. I shall get there soon. And really, Mr. King has waited long enough, she added to herself. And indeed, Mr. King thought so too, and he couldn't control his delight when the three danced into the little private parlor, opening out from his bedroom, and came up to his side. I slept over, said Polly, in a shame-faced little way. I'm sorry, Grandpa Padir. You needn't be, not a bit of it, declared Grandpa Pa, holding her off at arm's length to scan her rosy face. The best thing you could possibly do. Mamzy's very words. So Polly felt relieved at once. And now we will wait for Mrs. Fisher, he added, with a glance at the door. Here she is, piped Fronzy, who had been regarding the door anxiously. Yes, here she is, repeated old Mr. King in great satisfaction, holding Polly fast. Well now, Mrs. Fisher, that you have come will begin our festivities. Our Polly here is 15 years old today. Only think of that.  Polly clung to his other hand. It can't be a house celebration, Polly, my dear, with a party and all that, but we'll do the best we can. And to add to our pleasure and to be company for you. Not a suggestion of the pleasure he was to give. Why, we've another little girl with us who has chosen this very day for her birthday too. Adela, come here. Adela Gray, who had been standing silently, looking on with a sad heart at finding herself with a birthday on her hands and no one to celebrate it with her. Though for that matter, all her birthdays had been rather dismal affairs at the best in the Paris school. Now shrank back at Mr. King's sudden summons and hid behind her grandmother's black gown. Commedela commanded Mr. King in a tone that broke no further delay.  Oh, Adela exclaimed Polly in a transport drawing her up by her other hand for still Grandpa Pa held her fast. Is it your birthday too? How perfectly elegant! Oh, oh! And everybody said, how fine! And they all were smiling at her. And Adela found herself before she knew it, coming up out of her old despair into brightness and warmth and joy. And she never knew when old Mr. King proclaimed her 14 years old and dropped a kiss. Yes, he actually did, on her head. And then she found herself on his other side by the big center table that was covered with a large cloth. And Polly made her put her hand under it first, saying, oh no, Grandpa Pa, please let Adela pull out the first parcel. And lo and behold, she held a neat little white-papered bundle tied with a blue ribbon. Open it, cried Jasper, as she stood stupidly staring at it in her hand. Don't you see it's got your name on it? But Adela didn't see anything. She was so dazed. So Jasper had to open it for her. We may thank our stars, the first parcel happened to be for her. He was thinking busily all the time he was untying the ribbon. And there was just what she had wanted for oh so long. Mrs. Jameson's little books on art. Her very own. She saw as soon as her trembling fingers opened the cover. After that the skies might rain down anything in the shape of gifts, as it seemed to be doing for Polly and for her. It didn't matter to Adela. And she found herself finally looking over a heap of white-papers and tangled ribbons at Polly Pepper, who was dancing about and thanking everybody to right and to left. Why don't, why don't you thank him? Old Mrs. Gray mumbled in her ear while the tears were running down her wrinkled cheeks. Let her alone, said old Mr. King hearing her. She's thanked me enough. Now then, to breakfast, all of us, come Polly, come Adela, Jasper, you take Mrs. Gray. And the others falling in, away they all went down to the big dining room to their own special table in the center. I do so love what Joey sent me, and Ben and Davy, breathed Polly, for about the fiftieth time, patting her little money bag which she had hung on her belt. Then she looked at the new ring on her finger very lovingly, and the other hand stole up to pinch the pin on her trim necktie and see if it were really there. Oh Jasper, if the boys were only here, she whispered under cover of the chatter and bustle around the table. Don't let us think of that Polly, Jasper made haste to say. It will make Father feel so badly if he thinks you are worrying. I know it, said Polly, pulling herself out of her gloom in an instant to be as gay as ever, till the big somber dining room seemed instinct with life in the cheeryest place imaginable. What good times Americans do have, exclaimed a lady passing the door and sending an envious glance within. Yes, if they're the right kind of Americans, said her companion wisely. All that wonderful day, the sun seemed to shine more brightly than on any other day in the whole long year, and the two girls who had the birthday together went here and there, arm in arm, to gladden all the tired and often discontented eyes of the fellow travelers they chance to meet. And when finally it came to the dusk and Polly and Adela were obliged to say, our birthday is almost all over. Why then, that was just the very time when Mother Fisher and the little doctor, for he was in the plan, you may be very sure, only he wanted her to make all the arrangements. It's more in a woman's way, my dear, he had said. Well, then, that was their turn to celebrate the double birthday. Where are those girls? Cried the little doctor, fidgeting about and knocking down a little table in his prancing across the room. Jasper ran and picked it up. No harm done, he declared, sending the book straight again. Oh, dear, did I knock that over? Asked Dr. Fisher, whirling around to look at the result of his progress. Bless me, did I really do that? It's all right now, said Jasper, with a laugh at the doctor's face. Lucky there wasn't anything that could break on the table. I should say so, declared the little doctor. Still, I'm sorry I floored these with a rueful hand on the books. I'd rather smash some other things that I know of than to hurt the feelings of a book. Dear me. So had I, agreed, Jasper, to tell you the truth. But these aren't hurt, not a bit. He took up each volume and carefully examined the binding. When he saw that this was so, the little doctor began to fidget again and to wonder where the girls were. And in his impatience, he was on the point of prancing off once more across the room when Jasper said, let us go and find them, you and I. An excellent plan, said Dr. Fisher, hooking his arm into Jasper's and skipping off, Jasper having hard work to keep up with him. Here, where are you two going? Called Mr. King after them. And this hindered them so that Polly and Adela ran in unnoticed. And there they were on time after all, for it turned out that the little doctor's watch was five minutes ahead. Well, and then they all filed into the big dining room and there, to be sure, was their special table in the center.  And on the very tip top of all was an elaborate figure in sugar of a little Dutch shepherdess. And around this wonderful cake were plates of mottos, all trimmed in the Dutch fashion, in pink and green and yellow, while two big bunches of posies lay one at each plate of the two girls who had a birthday together in old Amsterdam. Oh, oh, cried Polly, seizing her bunch before she looked at the huge Dutch cake and burying her nose deep among the big fragrant roses. How perfectly lovely, who did this? But no one said a word and the little doctor was as sober as a judge. He only glared at them over his spectacles. Grandpa Pa gasped Polly, you did. Guess again, advised Grandpa Pa. Mam, see? Polly gave one radiant look at Mother Fisher's face. Then Dr. Fisher broke out into a hearty laugh. You've guessed it this time, Polly, my girl.  Your father really did it, corrected Mother Fisher. Yes, Adoniram, you did. Only I saw to things a little, that's all. Which means that pretty much the whole business was hers, added the little doctor, possessing himself of her hand under cover of the table. Well, girls, if you like your birthday party fixings, that's all your mother and I ask. It's Dutch anyway and what you won't be likely to get at home. There's so much to be said for it. End of Chapter 11. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Chapter 12 of Five Little Peppers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 12. The Henderson Box. And as Mother Fisher observed, they would all enjoy Mark and Beter for the delay, for there would be more time to anticipate the pleasure. And then there was the Henderson Box to get ready. For Grandpa Pa King had not only approved the plan, he had welcomed the idea most heartily. It will be a good diversion from our scare, he said, when Polly and Jasper laid it before him. And give us all something to do, he added. So go ahead, children, and set to work on it. And Polly and Jasper had flown off with the good news, and everyone did set to work, as Grandpa Pa said, diving into the shops again. Franzi tried to find the mate to her China cat, that was by this time sailing over the sea to Joel. And it worried her dreadfully. For try as she would, she never could see another one. And she looked so pale and tired one night that Mr. King asked her in consternation, as they were all assembled in one corner of the drying room. What was the matter? I wish I could find a cat, sighed Franzi, trying not to be so tired, and wishing the prickles wouldn't run up and down her legs so. We've walked and walked, Grandpa Pa, and the shop wouldn't come where it must be. What kind of a cat is it you want? asked Adela Gray. It was just like Joey's, said Franzi, turning her troubled blue eyes on Adela's face. Well, what color? continued Adela. It was yellow, said Franzi, a sweet little yellow cat. With green eyes? No, I don't think its eyes were green, said Franzi, slowly trying to think. But they were so pretty, and she had a pink ribbon around her neck, and, oh, that settles it, declared Adela, quite joyful that she could help the little pepper girl in any way. At least the pink ribbon round its neck does, for I know where there is a cat exactly like that. That is, the one I saw had green eyes, but everything else is like it. It's sitting upon a shelf in a shop where I was, just this very day, Franzi Pepper. Oh, Franzi gave a little gurgle of delight, and slipping out of her chair, she ran over to Adela. Will you show me that shop tomorrow? She begged in great excitement. To be sure I will, promised Adela, just as happy as Franzi. We will go in the morning, right after breakfast. May we, Mrs. Fisher? Looking over to her, where she sat knitting as cosily as if she were in the library at home. For I think people who travel get out of their everyday habits, she had said to her husband before they started, and I'm going to pack my knitting basket to keep my hands out of mischief. And old Mr. King had smiled more than once in satisfaction to glance over at Mother Fisher in her cozy corner of an evening, and it made him feel at home immediately, even in the dreariest of hotel parlors, just the very sight of those knitting needles. And so in between the picture galleries and museums, to which some part of every day was devoted, the Peppers and Jasper and Adela, and old Mr. King, who always went, and Mother Fisher, who sometimes was of the party, the ransacking of the lovely shops took place. And it really seemed as if everything that the Henderson boys could possibly want was in some of those places, no matter how out of the way, and waiting to be bought to fly over the sea to Badger Town. At last off that box went. Then Polly was quite happy and could enjoy things all the more with a mind at rest. Now we are all ready for Markin', she cried that night after dinner when the box was on its way to the steamer. And I do hope we are going to Morrow. Jasper and she had a little table between them and they were having a game of chess. Yes, we are, I think, said Jasper, slowly considering whether he would better bring down one of his knights into the thick of the battle or leave it to protect his queen.  And oh, how perfectly dreadful, all in one and the same breath. You may have it back, said Jasper, putting the black queen in place again. No, indeed, it's perfectly fair that I lost it, said Polly. Oh, I wouldn't take it back for anything. I was talking, it was all my own fault, Jasper. Well, you were talking about Markin' and I don't wonder for we have been so long trying to go there. Do take it back, Polly. He begged, holding it out. No, indeed, declared Polly again, shaking her brown head decidedly, not for the world, Jasper. What is going over in that corner? Called Grand Papa's voice by the big reading table. He had finished his newspaper and was now ready to talk. So Jasper and Polly explained and that brought out the subject of Markin and old Mr. King said yes. It was perfectly true that he had made all the arrangements to go the following day if the weather were fine. So Polly and Jasper swept off the remaining pieces on the chessboard and packed them away in their box and ran over to hear all the rest of it that he was now telling to the family. So you see, it didn't make any difference about that old queen anyway, said Polly as they hurried over to him for nobody has beaten. I'm glad I didn't beat, declared Jasper. I've that satisfaction anyway because you wouldn't have moved that pond, Polly, if you hadn't been talking of Markin. The next day was fine enough to warrant the trip, though not absolutely sunshiny. Old Mr. King wisely deciding that the fun of the expedition would lose its edge if postponed again, said, start. So after breakfast, they all went down to the Wester dock and embarked on the little steamer bound for the Island of Markin in the Zooter-Z. Oh Polly, look, said Jasper, doesn't Amsterdam look fine as the little steamer slowly put forth. Polly leaned over the rail and drew in long breaths of delight. Kamadella, she called, here is a good place. For the little old lady was still too much shaken up to make much attempt at traveling. So Polly had begged Mother Fisher and Grandpa Pot to ask Adela to come with them on their sightseeing trips. And this was done. And the young girl was happy as a bird. So here she was, going down to Markin too. Adela ran and kneeled down on the seat by Polly's side and hung over the rail too. Don't the houses lean over clearly? She said, pointing to the long narrow buildings they were leaving behind. They look worse from the water than when we are in the midst of them. It's just as if they were holding each other up, said Polly. Dear me, I should think they'd tumble over some fine day. What makes them sag so? asked Adela, intently regarding them. That's because the city is built on piles, I suppose, said Jasper. It's mostly sand and Holland, you know, particularly around Amsterdam. And so they had to drive down piles to get something strong enough to put their houses on. That's what, who was it? Oh, I know, Erasmus, meant when he said, I know a city whose inhabitants dwell on the tops of the trees like rooks. Oh, dear me, said Adela, quite impressed. Well, what makes them not sag anymore? She asked at length. Because they've sagged all they want to, I suppose, said Jasper, laughing. Anyway, they've stood so for years on years, probably, so it's fair to believe they're all right. And I think they're ever so much prettier leaning every which way, declared Polly. We can see plenty of straight houses at home, so it's nice to see crooked ones over here. Oh, Jasper, there's the King's Palace. Yes, and there's the dome of the Lutheran Church, said Jasper. Look at that woman with the boy, said Adela, on the wharf. She's got a little black bonnet tied on top of her white cap. That's nothing to what we shall see at Mark, and I suppose, said Polly. I'm going to take ever so many photographs. She tapped her Kodak lovingly as it hung from the strap on her shoulder. I wish I'd brought mine, said Adela. Why didn't you, cried Polly, whirling around to scan Adela? I forgot it, said Adela. I put it on the table last night, close to my hat and gloves, and then walked off this morning without it. Now that's too bad, exclaimed Polly in sympathy. Then she turned back uncomfortably and began to talk of something else. I'm not going to, she said to herself. It isn't my fault she forgot her Kodak, and I want every one of my films myself, and I care a great deal more for Marken than for almost any other place. The next moment Mamsey seemed to say, is that my Polly? And although she was at the other end of the boat, Polly's head drooped as if she had heard the words.  You shall use my Kodak, cried Polly aloud, one half the time, Adela. Oh no, protested Adela, but she looked hungrily at Polly's Kodak swinging over her shoulder. Yes, you shall too, declared Polly cheerily. I can take all the pictures I want in that time, and I have lots of films. I'll divide with you Polly, said Jasper. I brought ever so many, and will go shares with my Kodak too. But Polly made up her mind that Jasper's Kodak was to be used for his own special pictures, for she knew he had set his heart on taking certain ones, and a good many of them too. Isn't that water just perfectly lovely? She exclaimed, such a bluish gray. I think it's a grayish blue, said Adela, squinting along its surface critically. Well, what's the difference? asked Polly, laughing. Not much, said Jasper, I should think. Well anyway, it's lovely, declared Polly. I just wish I could paint it. Do you paint? asked Adela suddenly. No, said Polly, not a bit. Polly is all for music, said Jasper quickly. You ought to hear her play. Oh, I can't play much now, said Polly. But I mean to some time. Jasper, how bong it is since we have had it too wet.  That's the bother of travelling about. One can't play in a hotel, said Jasper. But wait till we get to Dresden, Polly. Oh, I can't bear to wait, said Polly. I don't want to hurry on, Jasper. But oh, I do wish we could play on a piano. Her fingers drummed on the rail in her eagerness. Why, you are playing now, said Adela, bursting into a laugh, or pretending to Polly Pepper. I know it, said Polly, laughing too. Well, that's what I always used to do in the little brown house, drum on the table. In the little brown ware, demanded Adela in astonishment. The little brown house, answered Polly, and her eyes lighted as she seemed to see it before her. That's where we used to live, Adela. Oh, the sweetest place you can't think. Polly's fingers stopped drumming now, and the color flew up to her cheek. She forgot all about Adela. Oh, I suppose it had everything beautiful about it, said Adela, delighted to make Polly talk. Big gardens and terraces and... Oh, no, said Polly. It didn't have gardens at all, Adela. Only a little bit of a green grass plot in front, but there was an apple tree at the back. Apple tree at the back, echoed Adela faintly. Yes, and we had beautiful plays under it, cried Polly, rushing on in remembrance. And sometimes, when all the work was finished, Mamsey would let us spend the whole afternoon out there. You can't think what perfectly splendid times we had there, Adela Gray. Adela, by this time, was beyond words, but stared up at Polly's face speachlessly. And what fun it was on baking-days, Polly, cried Jasper, unable to keep quiet any longer. Do you remember when I burnt all my cakes around the edges? Well, that was because the old stove acted so, said Polly. One minute it wouldn't bake at all, and the next it burnt things black. And the washing the dishes and things up afterwards, said Jasper, reflecting, I think I liked that just as well as the baking Polly. It was good fun, said Polly, and how funny you looked with one of Mamsey's aprons tied round under your chin, Jasper. I know it, said Jasper, bursting into a laugh. I must have looked like, I don't know what, but it was good fun, Polly. And then Fronzie came running up, and after her came Grandpa Pot to see that she got there all right. Oh, Polly, do you see the windmills? She cried, clapping her small hands. Yes, Pet, said Polly, looking all along the soft curves of the shore, there are hundreds of them, aren't there? There was a girl coming out of the door of one of them, announced Fronzie, climbing up on the seat and putting her arm around Polly's neck. Polly, I'd like to live in a windmill. I would, she whispered close to her ear. Would you, Pet? Yes, I would truly, she said. Why couldn't I, Polly? Just like that girl I saw coming out of the door, she asked, looking back wistfully. Well, that girl never had a little brown house to live in, said Polly. Think of that, Fronzie. End of Chapter 12. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Chapter 13 of Five Little Peppers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Linda Lee Paquette. Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 13. The Cleanest Place in All Holland. Oh, Polly, see the cunning little doll houses? Exclaimed Fronzie in a little screen, flying a boat from Grandpa Pa at the head of his party on their way up from the boat landing and then back to the rear of the procession, which happened to be Polly and Jasper. Hush, Fronzie, don't talk so loud. They are not doll houses, said Polly. People live in them. People live in them? Echoed Fronzie, standing quite still on the paved road that Sean is of just freshly scoured. Yes, yes, come along, child, the people will hear you, said Polly, seizing her hand. Fronzie suffered herself to be piloted along, but she stumbled more than once over the cobbles. Her eyes were so busy. Take care, Fronzie, warned Polly. You came near falling on your nose that time. I'll go on the other side, said Jasper. There now, Fronzie, give us your hand. While I don't wonder you are surprised, I never saw such a place as as broke is. They've just washed it all up, haven't they, Jasper?  Everything Sean alike. They're always washing up, I believe, answered Jasper with a laugh. I suppose they live in a pail of water, so to speak. Oh, Jasper, in a pail of water? Exclaimed Fronzie between them, poking her head out to look for such a strange and unwarrantable site provided by the inhabitants of Broke. I mean they're always scrubbing, so they can never be separated from their pails of water, said Jasper. It seems almost too bad to step on such clean roads, said Polly, getting up on her tiptoes and stepping gingerly off. When Fronzie saw Polly do that, she got up on her tiptoes too and tried to get over the ground with her. You can't do that long, said Jasper with a laugh for both, and it wouldn't do any good, Polly, if you could, for these Broke women will have to come out and scrub up after us all the same. I suppose they will, said Polly with a sigh of relief, coming down onto the rest of her feet, which proceeding, Fronzie was very glad to copy. And it isn't as nice as it looks to walk on the tips of your toes.  It seems as if they were all windows, said Jasper, scanning the tiny panes, shining at them from all the cottages. Dear me, the Broke women have something to do, don't they, to keep everything so shiny and clean? Haven't they, cried Polly? Well, I don't wonder it is the cleanest place in all Holland. They must have to sit up all night and wash and scrub. It's the cleanest place on the whole earth, I imagine, laughed Jasper. But I should love to see some boys playing with mud pies, sighed Polly, running her glance up and down the immaculate road and compassing all the tiny gardens possible to her range of vision. Mud pies, exclaimed Jasper in mock surprise. Polly, how can you mention such a thing as dirt or mud here? Jasper, do you suppose the children can have a good time here? Pursued Polly anxiously, willing to give up the mud pies if only reassured on the latter point, which seemed to her a very doubtful one. We'll hope so, answered Jasper. See the clump of him outside that door, Polly? Well, here we are at the Dairy Polly. And can I see the cows? cried Fronzy. Oh, Grandpa Polly's calling me. And off she ran. And so he was calling her, as he and the parson had now reached the Dairy Door, undercover with the dwelling, which seemed much less an object of painstaking care than the house where the cows resided and the cheeses were made. But everything was as neat as a pin in the house, though. And Polly and Jasper concluded they would explore the two rooms as everybody seemed to be expected to do after the main object of the visit was accomplished and the dairy inspected. Dear me, do they have to take their shoes off before they go in the house? cried Polly. I suppose so, said Jasper. Well, it isn't much trouble to get out of those sabbots. That's one comfort for them. Dear me, Mrs. Fisher was saying, if they haven't a carpet on the floor for the cows to walk on. And there surely were strips of carpeting all down the walks between the rows of stalls and something that looked like braided hemp in the bottom of the stalls themselves. And everything was tiled where it could be with little tiles. And all these and every bit of the woodwork itself shone beautifully. It was so clean and polished. Mrs. Fisher's black eye shone too. It's beautiful, she said to her husband to see everything so clean for once in the world. What are those books for? Asked Jasper of the stolid Dutchman who showed them about and who spoke English fairly well.  Oh, dear me, exclaimed Polly Pepper, and everybody laughed, but she didn't. I think that is cruel, she said. What do the poor things do to beat off the flies, pray tell? Flies, said Mother Fisher. I don't suppose they ever see a fly here, Polly. They chase one worse than the dirt, I guess, said the little doctor. Oh, said Polly with a sigh of relief. Come, Polly, let us go into the cheese room, suggested Jasper, peering in for everything was connected and under one roof. There's a man in there and he is telling something. So they skipped in, while Franzi was bewailing that there were no cows there, and where were they? Why, Franzi, they are all out in the fields.  No, said Franzi, swallowing the lump in her throat. I wouldn't, Grandpa Pa. I'd much rather know they are having a nice time. I don't want them in here, I truly don't. That's a nice child, said old Mr. King approvingly. Well now, we'll see how they make these wonderful, a-darn cheeses, Franzi. I shall call this place the Cheesery, announced Polly, running about between the vats and the big press. Oh, Polly, that's a capital name, said Jasper. So shall I call it the Cheesery in my journal. Look at the rows and rows of them, Polly. And how round and yellow they are, said Polly. Just like pumpkins, aren't they? Wouldn't it be fine if we could take some home to send to Badger Town? Dear Mrs. Beebe is so fond of cheese, Jasper. It is a pity, but we couldn't take cheeses very well. Franzi are trunks, Polly. He wrinkled up his face. At sight of it, Polly laughed merrily. No, of course not. She said, but oh, how fine they look.  What in the world can you do with a Dutch cheese child? exclaimed old Mr. King. But I would like to buy one, persisted Franzi. And after much diving, Franzi produced the little silk purse. Polly wants one, Grandpa Pa. She got up on her tiptoes to whisper confidentially. Oh, is that it? said Mr. King. Well now, Franzi, I don't really believe Polly wants one. You would better ask her. If she wants one, you shall buy it for her. So Franzi ran off. Do you, Polly? Do you? Then she gently pulled Polly's sleeve to make her here for Polly and Jasper were hanging on the description that the man in attendance was pouring forth. Do I what? cried Polly, only half understanding and lost in the thought of how much fun it must be to make little yellow cheeses and set them up in rows to be taken to market.  Finished Franzi? Yes, indeed, answered Polly, bobbing her head and listening to the man with all her might. Yes, she does, Grandpa Pa, declared Franzi flying back. She told me so her very own self. The goodness she does, exclaimed old Mr. King. Well then, she shall have one, but to pick out a small one, Franzi, the very smallest you can find. This was so much a work of time. Franzi laying aside one selection after another, each yellow cheese looking so much better on comparison that at last old Mr. King was almost in despair and counseled the purchase of the last one that Franzi set her eyes on. But meantime, she had spied one on the upper shelf of all. There it is, Grandpa Pa. She cried, clapping her hands in delight, the very littlest of all. Isn't it beautiful, Grandpa Pa, dear? Indeed it is, assented Grandpa Pa, and he had the man lifted down and do it up, a piece of a Dutch newspaper again doing duty when Franzi held out her arms to receive it. You can't carry a child, give it to me. What in the world shall we do with the thing? All this Grandpa Pa was uttering in one breath.  Grandpa Pa, who had taken the round parcel from her arms, looked from it to her with increasing perplexity. Have the goodness to put a string around it, will you? He said to the man who was regarding him stolidly after satisfying himself that the coin Franzi had drawn out of her purse and put in his hand was a good one.  This, with much hard breathing accompanying the work, he proceeded to twist and interlace around the paper containing the little yellow cheese in such a way that when it was completed, Franzi was carrying what looked like a little net basket, for there was a good strong twine handle sticking up into which she put her small hand in great satisfaction. When they all gathered in the living room of the house that had opened doors into the cowhouse and dairy, all being under one roof, they found a huge pile of photographs displayed of various views of the premises indoors and out. But they aren't half as nice as ours will be, whispered Jasper. How many did you take, Polly? Three, said Polly. Oh, Polly, didn't you get more than that, said Jasper, quite disappointed for her, for Polly dearly loved to take photographs. Oh, you've let Adela Gray take your Kodak, he added. It's a shame I didn't give you mine. Take it now, Polly, he begged, slinging off the leather strap from his shoulder. No, no, said Polly, I don't want to, Jasper, and I wanted Adela to take it, and don't let her hear us. She may come back from the other room, for Adela had disappeared with the Kodak. And it's all right, Jasper, she finished up incoherently. Aren't these queer beds, Mrs. Fisher, the parson's wife was saying, peering into the shelves against the side of the wall, boarded up with doors swung open, inviting inspection. The idea of sleeping in one of them, exclaimed Mrs. Fisher, inspecting the interior with a sharp eye. They're clean enough, and as neat as a pin, with a critical glance along the white lace spread and the immaculate pillow. But to be shut up in a box like that, I should as soon go to bed in a bureau drawer. So should I, laughed the parson's wife, and to look at the artificial flowers hanging up over the head, and that picture pinned above the foot. Well, well, well, and so that is a Dutch bed. There are a good many kinds and sorts of Dutch beds, I suppose, observed Mrs. Fisher turning away, just as there are a good many American ones. But I hope there aren't many of this particular kind. Jasper exclaimed Polly, as they all filed decorously out of the model farm. How I do wish you and I could race down to the boat landing. Jasper looked longingly down the washed and shining road. So do I, Polly, he said. But I suppose it wouldn't do. We should shock these natives. I suppose so, assented Polly roofily. Just then, Franzi came up holding with both hands her paper-covered, twine-netted, little round yellow cheese. What in the world has Franzi got? exclaimed Polly, catching sight of her. Come here, pet, she called. Franzi hesitated. On Polly's calling her again, she drew near, but more slowly than was her want. What have you got, Franzi? asked Polly, wondering and not a little hurt by her manner. A little basket of string. Isn't it funny, and where did you get it? It isn't a basket, corrected Franzi. And I cannot tell you now, Polly, said Franzi, shaking her head. Why, Franzi? began Polly in surprise, and she couldn't help it, her voice quavered in spite of her. When Franzi heard that, she was equally distressed, and at once decided to present the gift then, instead of carrying it back to the hotel for Polly, as she had at first intended. So she cast her burden into Polly's hands and piped out.  You said you wanted it. Franzi stood smiling and triumphant.  Then she did shock the natives, for she sat right down in the road with the cheese in her hands. End of chapter 13, recording by Lidl-


So I receive this message from a young man who says, I want to gift a menstrual heating pad and massager to my best friend. I don't know either if it will be useful to her or not. Moreover, I want to know that if I buy it, will it have any negative impact on it? You know, of all the questions I've ever received around misinformation on periods, this has to be the sweetest. Because if you are going to be misinformed about something, this is the way to deal with it, with love, with caring and with a genuine desire to understand. But in answer to your question, number one, yes, please do buy your friend a heating pad and a massager for her period pain. She will absolutely love you for it. And two, if you as a man touch it, will it have a negative impact on it? Absolutely not. You know, in spite of all the strange theories that you might have heard around periods about what you can't touch and what might happen if you touch it, there is nothing magical or mystical about periods. Periods are the most straightforward biological phenomenon that most women will go through during their lifetime. The only problem is that they are so miserably uncomfortable and painful that frankly anyone who's prepared to offer us comfort at that point, we love that person for it. And if a man touches anything to do with periods, it has no impact on anything. So go ahead and buy your friend whatever she needs. I know she will appreciate it and I hope that everyone out there will also learn from you.