Books with title Five Little Peppers and Their Friends : Five Little Peppers Series

Margaret Sidney was the pseudonym of Harriett Mulford Stone (1844-1924). She was an American author, born in New Haven, Connecticut. In 1878, at the age of 34, she began sending short stories to Wide Awake, a children's magazine in Boston. Two of her stories, Polly Pepper's Chicken Pie and Phronsie Pepper's New Shoes, proved to be very popular with readers. The success of Harriett's short stories prompted her to write the nowfamous Five Little Peppers series. This series was first published in 1881, the year that Stone married Daniel Lothrop. Daniel had founded the D. Lothrop Company of Boston, who published Harriett's books under her pseudonym, Margaret Sidney. Harriett eventually wrote over 30 books; in addition to the Five Little Peppers series she wrote a number of books on patriotic themes, including A Little Maid of Concord Town (1898) and A Little Maid of Boston (1910)

Money is scarce but fun and laughter are abound in the little brown house. The five little Peppers -- Ben, Polly, Joel, Davie, and Phronsie-- have delighted children, parents and teachers since their creation 1881 by Harriet Stone (pen name Margaret Sidney). Five Little Peppers and Their Friends is the ninth book in the series. Green boards. Gilt embossed lettering to the front board and spine. Black embossed illustration to the front board and spine.

A FIVE-O'CLOCK TEA "I wish," said Phronsie slowly, "that you'd come in, little girl." "Can't." The girl at the gate peered through the iron railings, pressing her nose quite flat, to give the sharp, restless, black eyes the best chance. "Please do," begged Phronsie, coming up quite close; "I very much wish you would." "Can't," repeated the girl on the outside. "Cop won't let me." "Who?" asked Phronsie, much puzzled and beginning to look frightened. "Perlice." The girl nodded briefly, taking her face away from the iron railings enough to accomplish that ceremony. Then she plastered her nose up against its support again, and stared at Phronsie with all her might. "Oh," said Phronsie, with a little laugh that chased away her fright, "there isn't any big policeman here. This is Grandpapa's garden." "'Tain't, it's the perliceman's; everything's the perliceman's," contradicted the girl, snapping one set of grimy fingers defiantly. "Oh, no," said Phronsie, softly but very decidedly, "this is my dear Grandpapa's home, and the big policeman can't get in here, ever." "Oh, you ninny!" The girl staring at her through the railings stopped a minute to laugh, covering both hands over her mouth to smother the sound. "The perlice can go everywheres they want to. I guess some of 'em's in heaven now, spyin' round." Phronsie dropped the doll she was carrying close to her bosom, to concentrate all her gaze up toward the sky, in wide-eyed amazement that allowed her no opportunity to carry on the conversation.