All that week Mother Pepper kept Joel and David away from the Store, and Polly or Ben had to go, whenever the errands made it necessary. Polly, when it was her turn, did not trust herself to look at the flaming yellow sheets of paper with the big staring letters across them, stuck up in the dirty store windows, or hung from the beams in among the kitchen utensils¹, or breadths of calico and gingham, wherever they would attract the most attention.  
One, in particular, was nailed up just inside the door. It was pretty hard to avoid this, but Polly turned her head away, and tried not to think of it, but keep her mind on what Mamsie said just before starting. "Don't keep looking at what you want and can't have, but keep busy over what you can have;" so she set her brain hard to work over the play, trying to decide whether she would have Mr. Primrose², who was to be Ben, rescue from the bear the white cat, who was to be Phronsie, in the remains³ of the old white fuzzy mat that Mrs. Henderson had given them to play with, or whether she (Polly), who was to be the fairy, should change her back into the small damsel she was at first, or whether--
 
"Well, Polly, my girl," said Mr. Atkins, with a hearty⁴ laugh, "I've spoke⁵ to you three times, and you seem deef to-day."
 
He was a jolly good-tempered man, and very kind to Mrs. Pepper, sometimes giving her sacks and coats to make when he really didn't need them just then; and though he never waited for his money but once, and that was when the children had the measles⁶, and Joel nearly died, he used to give large measures of things, and sometimes he'd slip in an apple or two, and once a whole fine orange went into the bag of Indian meal, so as to be a surprise when it was opened at home. So Polly liked Mr. Atkins very much.
 
Now she blushed rosy⁷ red. "Oh, I didn't mean--" she began, and was just going to say, "Please, I'd like three pounds rye flour, Mr. Atkins," when he broke out, "I s'pose you're athinkin' about the circus--don't wonder--I got my mind some on it myself."
 
"O dear, no," cried Polly, hastily, all in a tremble, and only anxious to get it out of her mind as soon as possible, and whirling around with her back to the wonderful picture.
 
"I s'pose, now, your Ma don't approve of 'em," he said, looking quite solemn all at once; "well there, I s'pose they ain't quite 'xactly the thing, but they look pretty nice on paper. See that fellow, now, Polly, a-flyin' through that ring. Beats all how they do it. Makes my head spin to look at him. See there!" and Mr. Atkins pointed⁸ a stubby forefinger⁹, shaking with excitement, to the big poster hanging by the counter.
 
"Oh, I can't look, Mr. Atkins," she said hastily. "Please do hurry and give me the flour." And then she got so very miserable¹⁰, for fear she had been rude, that she stood quite still, and the color flew out of her cheek.
 
"I s'pose your Ma don't approve," observed Mr. Atkins again, not being able to tear his gaze off from the splendid evolutions of the man flying through the ring, and others of a like nature; "well-well-well, I d'no's 'tis 'xactly the thing, but then--an' then them horses. Why, Polly, this man is a-ridin' five great strong prancing¹¹ ones all to once, dancing like ginger¹²." Polly gave a great gasp¹³. "Oh, if Joel could only see those horses once! It was too bad--it was cruel." Her heart seemed to jump into her throat, and to choke her. "We must go!" It seemed to her as if she screamed it, as she started suddenly and ran out of the store on wild little feet.
 
But Mr. Atkins, and the men and boys and women and girls left behind, were all staring open-mouthed at the pictures, and spelling out the no less wonderful descriptions of the staring yellow posters with the big flaring¹⁴ letters, so no one noticed her particularly, until the storekeeper tore his gaze away from the man flying through the paper rings, and the other one riding five prancing horses, and remarked, "I declare, I don't b'lieve I put up that rye flour for Polly Pepper, after all. Well, she'll come back for it, most likely, so I'll get it ready. Three pounds, she said." So he weighed it out, and tied it up, and set it to one side, saying to the frowsy-haired boy who helped him, "Jim, that's Mrs. Pepper's little girl's bundle, now remember."
 
"Yes," said Jim, with no eyes or ears for anything but the circus posters.
 
Polly ran across the road, and into Mr. Slimmen's meadow opposite, and to the further end, where she flung herself down on the stone wall, and pushed off the brown hair from her hot forehead. "O dear me, how could I!" she cried, twisting her hands tightly together. "What would Mamsie say! Now she never'll trust me to go to the store again. Oh, I shall cry! O dear, dear!"
 
"Moo!" said Mr. Slimmen's cow, coming close to the stone wall, to lay a friendly nose on Polly's gingham sleeve, and to stare with wide eyes of surprise at her being there at all.
 
"O dear me!" cried Polly, glad of anything to speak to, and laying her hot face against the soft one so near, and she threw her arms up over the cow's neck.
 
"Moo!" said Mr. Slimmen's cow, as if she quite understood the matter, and no one need explain. And Polly felt quite comforted, although the dreadful thought of going back into the store nearly overcame her. But remembering that Mamsie would be waiting for her, and worry if she did not soon come back, Polly made a desperate effort and hopped¹⁵ off the stone wall.
 
"Moo!" said Mr. Slimmen's cow, as if sorry to have her go, as Polly ran off, determined¹⁶ to get it over with as soon as possible.
 
She had her bundle tucked under her arm, glad that no one had spoken to her; for Jim just pointed to it, when she laid the money down on the counter, and then turned back to study the poster again, and was skipping over the ground, when she met Joel coming at a lively pace down the road.
 
"Oh, Polly, what a lot of time you've been gone!" he exclaimed. "Mamsie sent me after you."
 
"Did she?" cried Polly, in dismay. "Well, we must hurry back then, as fast as we can."
 
"I'm goin' to the store," said Joel, edging down toward Mr. Atkins'.
 
"What for?" demanded Polly, stopping a moment. "Did Mamsie send you for anything?"
 
"N-no--not exactly," said Joel, digging his bare toes into the sand; "but I might--might--p'r'aps get a ............