g or a molasses jug!"

"Well, hand it over, then," proposed Ben, who was unusually hungry, and
had a hard day's work before him.

"No," said Joel, alarmed at the prospect, and putting in an enormous
mouthful; "it's better than nothing."

"Oh, dear," said little Phronsie, catching Joel's tone, "it isn't nice;
no, it isn't." And she put down her spoon so suddenly that the molasses
spun off in a big drop, that trailed off the corner of the table, and
made Polly jump up and run for the floor-cloth.

"Oh, Phronsie," she said, reprovingly; "you ought not to. Never mind,
pet," as she caught sight of two big tears trying to make a path in the
little molasses-streaked face, "Polly'll wipe it up."

"Sha'n't we ever have anything else to eat, Polly?" asked the child,
gravely, getting down from her high chair to watch the operation of
cleaning the floor.

"Oh, yes," said Polly, cheerfully, "lots and lots--when our ship comes
in."

"What'll they be?" asked Phronsie, in the greatest delight, prepared for
anything.

"Oh, I don't know," said Polly; "ice cream for one thing, Phronsie, and
maybe, little cakes."

"With pink on top?" interrupted Phronsie, getting down by Polly's side.

"Oh, yes," said Polly, warming with her subject; "ever and ever so much
pink, Phronsie Pepper; more than you could eat!"

Phronsie just clasped her hands and sighed. More than she could eat was
beyond her!

"Hoh!" said Joel, who caught the imaginary bill of fare, "that's
nothing, Polly. I'd speak for a plum-puddin'."

"Like the one mother made us for Thanksgiving?" asked Polly, getting up
and waiting a minute, cloth in hand, for the answer.

"Yes, sir," said Joel, shutting one eye and looking up at the ceiling,
musingly, while he smacked his lips in remembrance; "wasn't that prime,
though!"

"Yes," said Polly, thoughtfully; "would you have 'em all like that,
Joe?"

"Every one," replied Joe, promptly; "I'd have seventy-five of 'em."

"Seventy-five what?" asked Mrs. Pepper, who had gone into the bedroom,
and now came out, a coat in hand, to sit down in the west window, where
she began to sew rapidly. "Better clear up the dishes, Polly, and set
the table back--seventy-five what, Joel?"

"Plum-puddings," said Joel, kissing Phronsie.

"Dear me!" ejaculated Mrs. Pepper; "you don't know what you're saying,
Joel Pepper; the house couldn't hold 'em!"

"Wouldn't long," responded Joel; "we'd eat 'em."

"That would be foolish," interposed Ben