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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3028-0.txt b/3028-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f30c29e --- /dev/null +++ b/3028-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5784 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Peterkin Papers + +Author: Lucretia P. Hale + +Release Date: October, 2001 [Etext #3028] +Posting Date: October 27, 2009 +Last Updated: November 7, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed + + + + + +THE PETERKIN PAPERS + +By Lucretia P. Hale + + +Mrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee. + +Dedicated + +To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) + +To Whom These Stories Were First Told + + + + +Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + +THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for +the “Young Folks.” They were afterwards continued in numbers of the “St. +Nicholas.” + +A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never +before been published, “The Peterkins at the Farm.” + +It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about +publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter +to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she might +happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her. + +Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, and +everybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, and +help it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and all +her servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take so +long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could they +get the whole subject on a postal? + +Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but one +question:-- + +Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + +This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family to +sign, the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of their +india-rubber boots. + +Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to the +post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day, +and all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers on +postals and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady from +Philadelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been read +by their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it must +have been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals and +letters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in the +same tone: “Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family.” + +“Publish them, of course.” + +And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:--“Yes, of +course; publish them.” + +This is why they were published. + + + + +THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. + +THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious +cup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found +she had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? +Of course she couldn’t drink the coffee; so she called in the family, +for she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in; +they all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and all +sat down to think. + +At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, “Why don’t we go over +and ask the advice of the chemist?” (For the chemist lived over the +way, and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, “Yes,” and Mr. +Peterkin said, “Very well,” and all the children said they would go too. +So the little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went. + +Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turn +everything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle into +which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuable +things, and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost found +what he wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now he +had used up all the gold that he had round the house, and gold was +high. He had used up his wife’s gold thimble and his great-grandfather’s +gold-bowed spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of his +great-great-grandfather’s cane; and, just as the Peterkin family came +in, he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him have +her wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knew +he should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; and +then she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeralds +and rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into the +finest of gold. + +Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in. +You can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing his +crucible--that was the name of his melting-pot--at their heads. But he +didn’t. He listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs. +Peterkin had put salt in her coffee. + +At first he said he couldn’t do anything about it; but when Agamemnon +said they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up his +bottles in a leather case, and went back with them all. + +First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a +little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it +tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. +But Mrs. Peterkin didn’t like that. Then he added some tartaric acid +and some hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. “I have it!” + exclaimed the chemist,--“a little ammonia is just the thing!” No, it +wasn’t the thing at all. + +Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric, +chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic, +nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and said +the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then he +tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clear +bitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. +This gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs. + +Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist +was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some +granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing +off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not +satisfied. + +The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the +salt. The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed. +Perhaps a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all +the time he could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all +much obliged to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold +was now 2.69 3/4, so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave +Agamemnon a pretty little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there +was the coffee! All sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, +“Why don’t we go to the herb-woman?” Elizabeth Eliza was the only +daughter. She was named after her two aunts,--Elizabeth, from the sister +of her father; Eliza, from her mother’s sister. Now, the herb-woman was +an old woman who came round to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They +all shouted with joy at the idea of asking her, and Solomon John and +the younger children agreed to go and find her too. The herb-woman +lived down at the very end of the street; so the boys put on their +india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It was a long walk through +the village, but they came at last to the herb-woman’s house, at the +foot of a high hill. They went through her little garden. Here she had +marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and tall sunflowers, and all +kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air was full of tansy-tea +and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and a brandy-cherry +tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung its delicious +fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, which smelt very +spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and peppermint, and +all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the ceiling; and on the +shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the like. + +But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to +get some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow +her,--Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to +climb up over high rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black +berry-vines. But the little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last +they discovered the little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was +steeple-crowned, without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel +round a sassafras bush. They told her their story,---how their mother had +put salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead +of better, and how their mother couldn’t drink it, and wouldn’t she +come and see what she could do? And she said she would, and took up her +little old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with everlasting +and pennyroyal, and went back to her house. + +There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all the +kinds of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seed +and dill, spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil and +rosemary, wild thyme and some of the other time,---such as you have in +clocks,--sappermint and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, +there isn’t a kind of herb you can think of that the little old woman +didn’t have done up in her little paper bags, that had all been dried in +her little Dutch-oven. She packed these all up, and then went back with +the children, taking her stick. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee. + +As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, and +began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop for +the bitter. Mrs. + +Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then +she tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, and +some caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoram +and sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint and +peppermint, some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, some +tansy and basil, and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, and +pennyroyal. The children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadful +faces. Mrs. Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old woman +stirred, and the more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + +So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and said +she must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up her +packets of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick, +and went back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in the +air and half out. And all she would take for pay was five cents in +currency. + +Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while. +It was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn’t had her cup +of coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, “They say that the lady from +Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and ask +her what is best to be done.” To this they all agreed, it was a great +thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + +She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,--how her mother had +put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he tried +everything but could make it no better; and how they went for the little +old herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother couldn’t +drink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very attentively, +and then said, “Why doesn’t your mother make a fresh cup of coffee?” + Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise. + +Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finished +his sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. “Why didn’t we +think of that?” said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to their +mother, and she had her cup of coffee. + + + + +ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of +the postmaster’s daughter. + +They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and +the carters brought it in, and went away. + +After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but +they found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the +middle of the room, standing close against the window. + +How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play +upon it? + +Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which Agamemnon +could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon +the piazza, and open the piano. Then she could have her music-stool on +the piazza, and play upon the piano there. + +So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to +see Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the piazza, +with the honeysuckle vines behind her. + +It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked to +take a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family liked to +sit on the piazza. + +So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + +All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall came, +Mr. Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open window, and the +family did not want to sit out on the piazza. + +Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was +obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so. + +One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, she spoke +of this trouble. + +The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, “But why +don’t you turn the piano round?” + +One of the little boys pertly said, “It is a square piano.” + +But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of Agamemnon +and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + +“Why did we not think of that before?” said Mrs. Peterkin. “What shall +we do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?” + + + + +THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. + +THEY were sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they +should do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. “If,” said +Mrs. Peterkin, “we could only be more wise as a family!” How could they +manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the children all went to +school; but still as a family they were not wise. “It comes from books,” + said one of the family. “People who have a great many books are very +wise.” Then they counted up that there were very few books in the +house,--a few school-books and Mrs. Peterkin’s cook-book were all. + +“That’s the thing!” said Agamemnon. “We want a library.” + +“We want a library!” said Solomon John. And all of them exclaimed, “We +want a library!” + +“Let us think how we shall get one,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I have +observed that other people think a great deal of thinking.” + +So they all sat and thought a great while. + +Then said Agamemnon, “I will make a library. There are some boards in +the wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails, and perhaps we can +borrow some hinges, and there we have our library!” + +They were all very much pleased at the idea. + +“That’s the book-case part,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “but where are the +books?” + +So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, “I +will make a book!” + +They all looked at him in wonder. + +“Yes,” said Solomon John, “books will make us wise, but first I must +make a book.” + +So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But there was +no ink. + +What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that +nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make some. +The little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the woods. +So they all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins put on her +cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and +off they went. + +The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else in the +woods,--chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a great many +squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they found any +nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket and two nutgalls +in it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. Peterkin had used her +very last on some beets they had the day before. “Suppose we go and +ask the minister’s wife,” said Elizabeth Eliza. So they all went to +the minister’s wife. She said if they wanted some good vinegar they had +better set a barrel of cider down in the cellar, and in a year or two +it would make very nice vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very +afternoon. When the minister’s wife heard this, she said she should be +very glad to let them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry +home. + +So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they had +very good ink. + +Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, but Solomon +John said, “Poets always used quills.” Elizabeth Eliza suggested that +they should go out to the poultry-yard and get a quill. But it was +already dark. They had, however, two lanterns, and the little +boys borrowed the neighbors’. They set out in procession for the +poultry-yard. When they got there, the fowls were all at roost, so they +could look at them quietly. + + + + +SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. + +But there were no geese! There were Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and +Guinea hens, and Barbary hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, +and bantams, and ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! “No geese but +ourselves,” said Mrs. Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. +The sight of this procession roused up the village. “A torchlight +procession!” cried all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the +house, shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, +and give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them +that it was only his family visiting his hens. + +After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of his +writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore to get a +quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was just shutting up +his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and +they hurried home. + +So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And now the +bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the mail was about +in, and perhaps he should have a letter, and then they could use the +envelope to write upon. So they all went to the post-office, and the +little boys had their india-rubber boots on, and they all shouted when +they found Mr. Peterkin had a letter. The postmaster inquired what +they were shouting about; and when they told him, he said he would give +Solomon John a whole sheet of paper for his book. And they all went back +rejoicing. + +So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table looking +at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped his pen into +the ink and held it over the paper, and thought a minute, and then said, +“But I haven’t got anything to say.” + + + + +MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. + +ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been +having a great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, “I +believe I shall take a ride this morning!” + +And the little boys cried out, “Oh, may we go too?” + +Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + +So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and +Agamemnon went off to their business, and Solomon John to school; and +Mrs. Peterkin began to get ready for her ride. + +She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, and some +gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza wanted to pick some +flowers to take to the minister’s wife, so it took them a long time to +prepare. + +The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, and +Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin put on her +cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little boys were in +their india-rubber boots, and they got into the carriage. + +Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took up +the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly stopped, +and would not go any farther. + +Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she clucked +to the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little boys whistled +and shouted; but still the horse would not go. + +“We shall have to whip him,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse would +not go, she said she would get out and turn her head the other way, +while Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he began to go she +would hurry and get in. + +So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + +“Perhaps we have too heavy a load,” said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got in. + +So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, but +still the horse would not go. + +One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just then, +called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, and they +could not hear exactly what she said. + +“I have tried the whip,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“She says ‘whips,’ such as you eat,” said one of the little boys. + +“We might make those,” said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + +“We have got plenty of cream,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“Yes, let us have some whips,” cried the little boys, getting out. + +And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and the wind +was very high. + +So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and made some +very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all round, and they all +thought they were very nice. + +They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very quickly. + +“That is just what he wanted,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “now he will +certainly go!” + +So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and the +gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and +they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + +“We must either give up our ride,” said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, “or +else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she will +say.” + +The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were eager to +go and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza went with them, +while her mother took the reins. + +They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, and +was in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, she very +kindly said they might draw up the curtain from the window at the foot +of the bed, and open the blinds, and she would see. Then she asked for +her opera-glass, and looked through it, across the way, up the street, +to Mrs. Peterkin’s door. + +After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned her +head back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then said, +“Why don’t you unchain the horse from the horse-post?” + +Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then +hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was untied, +and they all went to ride. + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. + +ANOTHER little incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at +dinner-time. + +They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of the +children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half liked +lean. Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham turned out to +be a very remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate +slices,--first one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, +and so on. Mr. Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, +according to their age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; +and Elizabeth Eliza, who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, +who could eat nothing but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had +what he could eat. + +It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the +vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children saw +upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet potato and +sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because not one was +satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat +and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they looked up and saw +the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into +their plates. + +“What is the matter now?” said Mr. Peterkin. + +But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, however, +made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her lean, and +so on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty. + +“What shall be done now?” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +They all sat and thought for a little while. + +At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, “Suppose we ask the lady +from Philadelphia what is best to be done.” + +But Mr. Peterkin said he didn’t like to go to her for everything; let +the children try and eat their dinner as it was. + +And they all tried, but they couldn’t. “Very well, then.” said Mr. +Peterkin, “let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia.” + +“All of us?” cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the +moment. + +“Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “only put on your india-rubber boots.” + And they hurried out of the house. + +The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she +kindly stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon +and Elizabeth Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from +Philadelphia said, “But why don’t you give the slices of fat to those +who like the fat, and the slices of lean to those who like the lean?” + +They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza, and +Solomon John looked at the little boys. “Why didn’t we think of that?” + said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + + + + +WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. + +THE trouble was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the +dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up +from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she +could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach +it. All the family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in +vain; the dinner could not be stirred. + +“No dinner!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + +“I am quite hungry,” said Solomon John. + +At last Mr. Peterkin said, “I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the +kitchen.” + +This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one +went down, taking a napkin. + +The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the +family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but she +could not move it down. + +The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between +the kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it! + +“What is there for dinner?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + +“Roast turkey,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + +“Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato,” Mrs. Peterkin continued. + +“Sweet potato!” exclaimed both the little boys. + +“I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry,” said Mrs. Peterkin, +anxious to find a bright point. + +“Let us sit down and think about it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“I have an idea,” said Agamemnon, after a while. + +“Let us hear it,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Let each one speak his mind.” + +“The turkey,” said Agamemnon, “must be just above the kitchen door. If I +had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach it.” + +“That is a great idea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“If you think you could do it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“Would it not be better to have a carpenter?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + +“A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have +neither,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“A carpenter! A carpenter!” exclaimed the rest. + +It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys +should go in search of a carpenter. + +Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a book; for +he had another idea. + +“This affair of the turkey,” he said, “reminds me of those buried cities +that have been dug out,--Herculaneum, for instance.” + +“Oh, yes,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, “and Pompeii.” + +“Yes,” said Agamemnon, “they found there pots and kettles. Now, +I should like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a book and +read. I think it was done with a pickaxe.” + +So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter’s +shop, there was no carpenter to be found there. + +“He must be at his house, eating his dinner,” suggested Solomon John. + +“Happy man,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “he has a dinner to eat!” + +They went to the carpenter’s house, but found he had gone out of town +for a day’s job. But his wife told them that he always came back at +night to ring the nine-o’clock bell. + +“We must wait till then,” said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at +cheerfulness. + +At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down to hear of +Herculaneum and Pompeii. + +Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to have +tea when they had had no dinner? A part of the family thought it would +not do; the rest wanted tea. + +“I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was here not +long ago,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“Let us try to think what she would advise us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“I wish she were here,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“I think,” said Mr. Peterkin, “she would say, let them that want tea +have it; the rest can go without.” + +So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much was +eaten, as there had been no dinner. + +When the nine-o’clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon John, and the +little boys rushed to the church, and found the carpenter. + +They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it might +be a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + +When the matter was explained to him, he went into the dining-room, +looked into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and arranged the weight, +and pulled up the dinner. + +There was a family shout. + +“The trouble was in the weight,” said the carpenter. + +“That is why it is called a dumb-waiter,” Solomon John explained to the +little boys. + +The dinner was put upon the table. + +Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for the +next day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + +But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda warmed +over the vegetables. + +“Patient waiters are no losers,” said Agamemnon. + + + + +THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. + +IN fact, it was their last summer’s journey--for it had been planned +then; but there had been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + +The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a trunk +suitable for travelling. + +Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a week at a +time at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for Elizabeth Eliza +when she went to the seminary. Solomon John and Mr. Peterkin, each +had his patent-leather hand-bag. But all these were too small for the +family. And the little boys wanted to carry their kite. + +Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother’s trunk. This was a hair-trunk, +very large and capacious. It would hold everything they would want to +carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk, or the valise +and bags. + +Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next day +the things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin’s room, for her to see +if they could all be packed. + +“If we can get along,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “without having to ask +advice, I shall be glad!” + +“Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “It is time now for people to be coming to ask +advice of us.” + +The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things that were +already in the trunk. Here were last year’s winter things, and not +only these, but old clothes that had been put away,--Mrs. Peterkin’s +wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear before they put +on jackets and trousers. + +All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old +things, putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could +think of, both summer and winter ones, because you never can tell what +sort of weather you will have. + +Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. There were +her own and Elizabeth Eliza’s best bonnets in a bandbox; also Solomon +John’s hats, for he had an old one and a new one. He bought a new hat +for fishing, with a very wide brim and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + +Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas still +larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + +“I have never had a chance to look at them,” he said; “but when one +travels, then is the time to study geography.” + +Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin packed +his tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her just as +she had packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it would help to +smooth the dresses, and placed it on top; but she was forced to take all +out, and set it at the bottom. This was not so much matter, as she had +not yet the right dresses to put in. Both Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth +Eliza would need new dresses for this occasion. The little boys’ hoops +went in; so did their india-rubber boots, in case it should not rain +when they started. They each had a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, +that were packed. + +Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second day +to see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even the little +boys’ kite lay smoothly on the top. + +“I like to see a thing so nicely done,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to move +it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John could lift it alone, +or all together. + +Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of it. + +“Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things.” + +“But we did not plan expressing it,” said Mrs. Peterkin, in a +discouraged tone. + +“We can take a carriage,” said Solomon John. + +“I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage,” + said Mrs. + +Peterkin. + +“The hackman could not lift it, either,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“People do travel with a great deal of baggage,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“And with very large trunks,” said Agamemnon. + +“Still they are trunks that can be moved,” said Mr. Peterkin, giving +another try at the trunk in vain. “I am afraid we must give it up,” he +said; “it would be such a trouble in going from place to place.” + +“We would not mind if we got it to the place,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“But how to get it there?” Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + +“This is our first obstacle,” said Agamemnon; “we must do our best to +conquer it.” + +“What is an obstacle?” asked the little boys. + +“It is the trunk,” said Solomon John. + +“Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary,” said Agamemnon, +taking the large volume from the trunk. “Ah, here it is--” And he read:-- +“OBSTACLE, an impediment.” + +“That is a worse word than the other,” said one of the little boys. + +“But listen to this,” and Agamemnon continued: “Impediment is something +that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands in the way; +obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; hinderance, something +that holds back.” + +“The trunk is all these,” said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + +“It does not entangle the feet,” said Solomon John, “for it can’t move.” + +“I wish it could,” said the little boys together. + +Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the trunk +and putting them away. + +“At least,” she said, “this has given me some experience in packing.” + +And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + +But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested that +they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the station; +the little boys could go and come with the things. But Elizabeth Eliza +thought the place too public. + +Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + +At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a +good-sized family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the +journey was put off from that summer. + +But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family consultation +was held about packing it. Many things would have to be left at home, it +was so much smaller than the grandmother’s hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had +been studying the atlas through the winter, and felt familiar with the +more important places, so it would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. +Peterkin decided to leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. With +great care and discretion, and by borrowing two more leather bags, it +could be accomplished. Everything of importance could be packed, except +the little boys’ kite. What should they do about that? + +The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon John +and Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + +“I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of the +lady from Philadelphia,” said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + +“She has come on here,” said Agamemnon, “and we have not been to see her +this summer.” + +“She may think we have been neglecting her,” suggested Mr. Peterkin. + +The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion about the +kite. + +They came back in high spirits. + +“She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite when we +get there,” they cried. + +“What a sensible idea!” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; “and I may have leisure +to help you.” + +“We’ll take plenty of newspapers,” said Solomon John. + +“And twine,” said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + +The question then was, “When should they go?” + + + + +THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. + +MRS. PETERKIN awoke one morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The +wind had flung the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the +house, and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering +hedges and fences. + +Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but nothing +could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white snow. Even Mr. +Bromwick’s house, on the opposite side of the street, was hidden by the +swift-falling flakes. + +“What shall I do about it?” thought Mrs. Peterkin. “No roads +cleared out! Of course there’ll be no butcher and no milkman!” + +The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for +there was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no knowing +when they would have anything more to eat. + +It was best to secure the breakfast first. + +So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, waking +the family, and before long all were dressed and downstairs. + +And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + +All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was frozen. +They could open the door into the wood-house; but the wood-house door +into the yard was banked up with snow; and the front door, and the +piazza door, and the side door stuck. Nobody could get in or out! + +Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the kitchen fire, +but had discovered there was no furnace coal. + +“The furnace coal was to have come to-day,” said Mrs. Peterkin, +apologetically. + +“Nothing will come to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + +But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + +All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little boys +were much pleased to have “ice-cream” for breakfast. + +“When we get a little warm,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we will consider what +is to be done.” + +“I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I +was to have had a leg of mutton to-day.” + +“Nothing will come to-day,” said Agamemnon, gloomily. + +“Are these sausages the last meat in the house?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + +“Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had +meant to order more flour that very day. + +“Then we are eating our last provisions,” said Solomon John, helping +himself to another sausage. + +“I almost wish we had stayed in bed,” said Agamemnon. + +“I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first,” repeated Mrs. +Peterkin. + +“Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + +“There’s the pig!” suggested Solomon John. + +Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and could be +reached under cover. + +But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + +“We should have to ‘corn’ part of him,” said Agamemnon. + +“My butcher has always told me,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that if I wanted a +ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have not the ham!” + +“Perhaps we could ‘corn’ one or two of his legs,” suggested one of the +little boys. + +“We need not settle that now,” said Mr. Peterkin. “At least the pig +will keep us from starving.” + +The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + +“If we had only decided to keep a cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“Alas! yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “one learns a great many things too +late!” + +“Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!” exclaimed the little +boys. + +Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were +quite pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and hurried +through their breakfasts that they might go and try to shovel out a path +from one of the doors. + +“I ought to know more about the water-pipes,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Now, I +shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I forgot to; and +I ought to have shut it off in the cellar.” + +The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were +going to try the side door. + +“Another thing I have learned to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, “is not to +have all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm blows the +snow against all the doors.” + +Solomon John started up. + +“Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!” he +exclaimed. + +“Of what use,” asked Mr. Peterkin, “since we have no door on the east +side?” + +“We could cut one,” said Solomon John. + +“Yes, we could cut a door,” exclaimed Agamemnon. + +“But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?” asked Elizabeth +Eliza,--“for there is no window.” + +In fact, the east side of the Peterkins’ house formed a blank wall. The +owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached houses. He +had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + +“It is not necessary to see,” said Agamemnon, profoundly; “of course, +if the storm blows against this side of the house, the house itself must +keep the snow from the other side.” + +“Yes,” said Solomon John, “there must be a space clear of snow +on the east side of the house, and if we could open a way to that “--“We +could open a way to the butcher,” said Mr. Peterkin, promptly. + +Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house ever since +the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + +“What part of the wall had we better attack?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + +“What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?” she +exclaimed. “Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?” + +“It is right to preserve ourselves from starving,” said Mr. Peterkin. +“The drowning man must snatch at a straw!” + +“It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the +thaw comes,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “than that he should find us lying +about the house, dead of hunger, upon the floor.” + +Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + +The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not succeeded in +opening the side door, and were planning trying to open the door from +the wood-house to the garden. + +“That would be of no use,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “the butcher cannot get +into the garden.” + +“But we might shovel off the snow,” suggested one of the little +boys, “and dig down to some of last year’s onions.” + +Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had been bringing +together their carpenter’s tools, and Elizabeth Eliza proposed using a +gouge, if they would choose the right spot to begin. + +The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to find,--one, +a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda armed herself with +a poker. + +“It would be better to begin on the ground floor,” said Mr. +Peterkin. + +“Except that we may meet with a stone foundation,” said Solomon John. + +“If the wall is thinner upstairs,” said Agamemnon, “it will do as well +to cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher may bring +below in his cart.” + +Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable +place, and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually cut +a bit out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. Solomon John +confided to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of stories of prisoners +who cut themselves free, through stone walls, after days and days of +secret labor. + +Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. She was +interrupted by a voice behind her. + +“Here’s your leg of mutton, marm!” + +It was the butcher. How had he got in? + +“Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back gate +is kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I could not make +anybody hear me knock at the side door.” + +“But how did you make a path to the door?” asked Mr. Peterkin. “You must +have been working at it a long time. It must be near noon now.” + +“I’m about on regular time,” answered the butcher. “The town +team has cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down the last +half-hour. The storm is over.” + +True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had +not noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + +“And we were all up an hour earlier than usual,” said Mr. Peterkin, +when the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a +pickaxe in his hand. + +“If we had lain abed till the usual time,” said Solomon John, “we should +have been all right.” + +“For here is the milkman!” said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now +heard at the side door. + +“It is a good thing to learn,” said Mr. Peterkin, “not to get up any +earlier than is necessary.” + + + + +THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. + +NOT that they were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. +But for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a +cow, to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be so +healthy. + +Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and +how near they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe +snow-storm, and the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If +the cow-shed could open out of the wood-shed, such trouble might be +prevented. + +Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, and +Agamemnon and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, in case Tony +should be “snowed up,” or have the whooping-cough in the course of the +winter. The little boys thought they knew how already. + +But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it +was important to know where to keep it. + +“One way will be,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “to use a great deal every day. +We will make butter.” + +“That will be admirable,” thought Mr. Peterkin. + +“And custards,” suggested Solomon John. + +“And syllabub,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“And cocoa-nut cakes,” exclaimed the little boys. + +“We don’t need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of +a cow. You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would be +pleasant climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + +“Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall have to feed the cow.” + +“Where shall we pasture her?” asked Agamemnon. + +“Up on the hills, up on the hills,” exclaimed the little boys, “where +there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes!” + +Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the house. + +“But I don’t know,” he said, “but the cow might eat off all the grass in +one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless the grass +grew fast enough every night.” + +Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy season the +grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might not grow at all. + +“I suppose,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is the worst of having a +cow,--there might be a drought.” + +Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the quantity +of grass in the lot. + +Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by seeing how +much grass the Bromwicks’ cow, opposite them, eat up in a day. + +The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the Bromwicks’ +fence, and take an observation. + +“The trouble would be,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “that cows walk about so, +and the Bromwicks’ yard is very large. Now she would be eating in one +place, and then she would walk to another. She would not be eating all +the time, a part of the time she would be chewing.” + +The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have +some sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the +calculations were made. + +But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + +“Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the place, +and very likely they would make the cow angry.” + +Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. Peterkin’s +lot for his cow. + +Mr. Peterkin started up. + +“That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there was feed +enough for one cow.” + +“And the reason you didn’t let him have it,” said Solomon John, “was +that Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows.” + +“I did not like the idea,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “of their cow’s +looking at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be +planting the sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a quiet +one. I should not like her jumping over the fence into the flower-beds.” + +Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest kind. + +“I should think something might be done about covering her horns,” said +Mrs. + +Peterkin; “that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might be +padded with cotton.” + +Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if they +came at you they could not help knocking you over. + +The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. Half +the fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after her. + +Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + +“The cow would like it ever so much better,” the little boys +declared, “on account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks and +the bushes, she could walk round and find the grassy places.” + +“I am not sure,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but it would be less dangerous +to keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because she would not be +coming and going, morning and night, in that jerky way the Larkins’ cows +come home. They don’t mind which gate they rush in at. I should hate to +have our cow dash into our front yard just as I was coming home of an +afternoon.” + +“That is true,” said Mr. Peterkin; “we can have the door of the +cow-house open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and +going.” + +The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the +exercise, and they would lose a great pleasure. + +Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch the +cow. + +It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they were to +put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build a dairy. + +The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the family +stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly walking into +the shed. + +Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. It +was the one she did her gardening in, and it might have infuriated the +cow. And she kept out of the garden the first day or two. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of milk-pans, of +every size. + +But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + +The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza +said she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, though she +would like to do her best to patronize the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking care +of the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she was sure the +pans and the closet were all clean. + +“Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from Philadelphia +to try,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “it will be a pretty attention before she +goes.” + +“It might be awkward if she didn’t like it,” said Solomon John. “Perhaps +something is the matter with the grass.” + +“I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday,” said one of the little boys, +remorsefully. + +Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all to +the lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + +The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the milk +was sour! + +“I was afraid it was so,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “but I didn’t know what to +expect from these new kinds of cows.” + +The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + +“In the new dairy,” answered Elizabeth Eliza. + +“Is that in a cool place?” asked the lady from Philadelphia. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + +“Is it near the chimney?” inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + +“It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range,” replied +Elizabeth Eliza. “I suppose it is too hot!” + +“Well, well!” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is it! Last winter the milk +froze, and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall we put our +dairy?” + + + + +THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. + +EARLY in the autumn the Peterkins began to prepare for their +Christmas-tree. + +Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to the +neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin had been +up to Mr. + +Bromwick’s wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. Agamemnon +went to look at it occasionally after dark, and Solomon John made +frequent visits to it mornings, just after sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove +Elizabeth Eliza and her mother that way, and pointed furtively to it +with his whip; but none of them ever spoke of it aloud to each other. +It was suspected that the little boys had been to see it Wednesday +and Saturday afternoons. But they came home with their pockets full of +chestnuts, and said nothing about it. + +At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into the +Larkin’s barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement was made of +it with Elizabeth Eliza’s yard-measure. To Mr. Peterkin’s great dismay +it was discovered that it was too high to stand in the back parlor. + +This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, +Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + +Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. Peterkin +was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles would drip. + +But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the ceiling +of the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of the tree. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It must +not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + +“Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I should have the ceiling lifted all across +the room; the effect would be finer.” + +Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, because +her room was over the back parlor, and she would have no floor while the +alteration was going on, which would be very awkward. Besides, her room +was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, perhaps she could +not walk in it upright. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn’t propose altering the whole +ceiling, but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part where +the tree was to stand. + +This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza’s room; but it +would go across the whole room. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the cuddy +thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit against, only +here you would not have the sea-sickness. She thought she should like +it, for a rarity. She might use it for a divan. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the carpet, and +might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + +Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the matter +secret, for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; but Mr. +Peterkin proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, for a number of +other jobs. + +One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same height, +for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting down in a chair +that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, and it had proved to +be two inches lower. The little boys were now large enough to sit in +any chair; so a medium was fixed upon to satisfy all the family, and the +chairs were made uniformly of the same height. + +On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree could be +cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, and demurred +at so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. Peterkin had set +his mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had cut her carpet in +preparation for it. + +So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for nearly a +fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen plastering, +and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth Eliza’s carpet was +taken up, and the furniture had to be changed, and one night she had +to sleep at the Bromwicks’, for there was a long hole in her floor that +might be dangerous. + +All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what was +going on. + +Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know why a +Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still more astonished +at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza’s room. It must be a +Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + +Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, with +some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of the little +boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and mystery, behind +doors, and under the stairs, and in the corners of the entry. + +Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the tree. He +had been collecting some bayberries, as he understood they made very +nice candles, so that it would not be necessary to buy any. + +The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor together, +and all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin would go in +with Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth Eliza, or Elizabeth +Eliza and Agamemnon and Solomon John. The little boys and the small +cousins were never allowed even to look inside the room. + +Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She wanted +to consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should need, and whether +they could make it at home, as they had cream and ice. She was pretty +busy in her own room; the furniture had to be changed, and the carpet +altered. The “hump” was higher than she expected. There was danger +of bumping her own head whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some +padding on the ceiling for fear of accidents. + +The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and their +father collected in the back parlor for a council. The carpenters had +done their work, and the tree stood at its full height at the back of +the room, the top stretching up into the space arranged for it. All the +chips and shavings were cleared away, and it stood on a neat box. + +But what were they to put upon the tree? + +Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they proved to be +very “stringy” and very few of them. It was strange how many bayberries +it took to make a few candles! The little boys had helped him, and +he had gathered as much as a bushel of bayberries. He had put them in +water, and skimmed off the wax, according to the directions; but there +was so little wax! + +Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off from +the legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should cover them +with gilt paper, to answer for gilt apples, without telling them what +they were for. + +These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they +had for the tree! + +After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring +anything for it. + +“I thought of candies and sugar-plums,” she said; “but I concluded if we +made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, then, we have not +made caramels. The fact is, that day my head was full of my carpet. I +had bumped it pretty badly, too.” + +Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an apple-tree +he had seen in October, full of red fruit. + +“But the leaves would have fallen off by this time,” said Elizabeth +Eliza. + +“And the apples, too,” said Solomon John. + +“It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to get +the things,” said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. “But I went from shop +to shop, and didn’t know exactly what to get. I saw a great many gilt +things for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys were making +the gilt apples; there were plenty of candles in the shops, but I knew +Solomon John was making the candles.” + +Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + +Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into town now. + +Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to be +a grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be spared, and +Solomon John was sure he and Agamemnon would not know what to buy. +Besides, they would want to try the candles to-night. + +Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing would +not answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too heavy. + +A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam from one +of Solomon John’s candles that he had lighted by way of trial. + +Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match to +examine the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of trains +coming out at that hour, but none going in except a very late one. That +would not leave time to do anything and come back. + +“We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I,” said Solomon John, “but we +should not have time to buy anything.” + +Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the uncles and +aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there was time to study +up something about electric lights. If they could only have a calcium +light! Solomon John’s candle sputtered and went out. + +At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The +little boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and Mrs. +Peterkin, hastened to see what was the matter. + +The uncles and aunts thought somebody’s house must be on fire. The door +was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for it was beginning +to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza’s purchases, +so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and hastily called +back her guests and the little boys into the other room. The little boys +and the small cousins were sure they had seen Santa Claus himself. + +Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza. +It was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a hint from +Elizabeth Eliza’s letters that there was to be a Christmas-tree, and had +filled this box with all that would be needed. + +It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, from +gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining flags and +lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets +of fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at the bottom of the +whole, a large box of candles and a box of Philadelphia bonbons! + +Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from screaming. The +little boys and the small cousins knocked on the folding-doors to ask +what was the matter. + +Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung them on +the tree, and put on the candles. + +When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed:--“Let +us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors to-night, +and have the tree on Christmas Eve!” + +And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day +before, and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + + + + +MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. + +TWAS important to have a tea-party, as they had all been invited by +everybody,--the Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would be +such a good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the lady +from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who would be +sure to make it all go off well. + +But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were too +many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and saucers in the +best set. + +“There are seven of us, to begin with,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“We need not all drink tea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“I never do,” said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + +“And we could have coffee, too,” suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + +“That would take as many cups,” objected Agamemnon. + +“We could use the every-day set for the coffee,” answered Elizabeth +Eliza; “they are the right shape. Besides,” she went on, “they would not +all come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; they never go out.” + +“There are but six cups in the every-day set,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin +agreed with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. Jeffers +never went out. + +“There are three of the Tremletts,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “they never +go out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to have the +headache. Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the three Gibbons boys, and +their sister Juliana; but the other sisters are out West, and there is +but one Osborne.” + +It really did seem safe to ask “everybody.” They would be sorry, after +it was over, that they had not asked more. + +“We have the cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “so there will be as much cream +and milk as we shall need.” + +“And our own pig,” said Agamemnon. “I am glad we had it salted; so we +can have plenty of sandwiches.” + +“I will buy a chest of tea,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. “I have been +thinking of a chest for some time.” + +Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was as well +to buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin determined on a +chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + +So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy +evening and some would be prevented. + +The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + +And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. Ann +Maria Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought her over, for +the Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the Tremletts had a niece, +and Mary Osborne an aunt, that they took the liberty to bring. + +The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each +set came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that more +were coming. + +Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, and +trying to calculate how many were to come, and wondering why there were +always more and never less, and whether the cups would go round. + +The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had their +headaches the day before, and were having that banged feeling you always +have after a headache; so they all sat at the same side of the room on +the long sofa. + +All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. Old Mr. +Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. + +The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor door. +And Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, unexpectedly +home from the West. + +“Got home this morning!” they said. “And so glad to be in time to +see everybody,--a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a +sleeping-car!” + +“Forty-eight!” repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were +forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and whether +all could sit down. + +Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be neighborly +to stay away. They insisted on getting into the most uncomfortable +seats. + +Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys preferred to +stand. + +But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had thought +they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John and the little +boys could help in the waiting. + +It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived with her +daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, who was a little +deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther behind the parlor +door. Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake hands with the lady from +Philadelphia, saying:--“Four Gibbons girls and Mary Osborne’s aunt,--that +makes nineteen; and now”--It made no difference what she said; for there +was such a murmuring of talk that any words suited. And the lady from +Philadelphia wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + +It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, and +asked:-- + +“Can’t we go and ask more? Can’t we fetch the Larkins?” + +“Oh, dear, no!” answered Elizabeth Eliza. “I can’t even count them.” + +Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, to +ask if there were going to be cups enough. + +“I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count,” said Elizabeth +Eliza, putting her hand to her head. + +The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + +“The Maberlys!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. “I never asked them.” + +“It is your father’s doing,” cried Mrs. Peterkin. “I do believe he asked +everybody he saw!” And she hurried back to her guests. + +“What if father really has asked everybody?” Elizabeth Eliza said to +herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + +There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, or +both, the cups could not go round. + +Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + +He had not been able to count the guests, they moved about so, they +talked so; and it would not look well to appear to count. + +“What shall we do?” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +“We are not a family for an emergency,” said Agamemnon. + +“What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, when +there were more people than cups and saucers?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. +“Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady from Philadelphia is +talking about the Exhibition, and telling how she stayed at home to +receive friends. And they must have had trouble there! Could not you go +in and ask, just as if you wanted to know?” + +Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many talking with the +lady from Philadelphia. + +“If we could only look into some book,” he said,--“the encyclopaedia or +the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!” + +At this moment he thought of his “Great Triumphs of Great Men,” that he +was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the Stephensons, +or any of the men of modern times. He might skip over to them,--he knew +they were men for emergencies. + +He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with chairs. + +“That is a good thought,” said Agamemnon. “I will bring down more +upstairs chairs.” + +“No,” said Solomon John; “here are all that can come down; the rest of +the bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will do!” + +Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only he +could invent something on the spur of the moment,--a set of bedroom +furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into parlor chairs! It +seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his table and pencils, +when he was interrupted by the little boys, who came to tell him that +Elizabeth Eliza wanted him. + +The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the +tea-table, with all the things on, should be pushed into the front room, +where the company were; and those could take cups who could find cups. + +But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a +table; it might upset, and break what china they had. + +Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back room. She +called to him:--“Agamemnon, you must bring Mary Osborne to help, and +perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry round some of the cups.” + +And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, and the +tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + +The little boys took the sugar and cream. + +“As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and saucers to +be washed,” she said to the Gibbons boys and the little boys. + +This was an idea of Mary Osborne’s. + +But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the more +cups they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, and Mary +Osborne the tea. + +Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + +“I can’t understand it,” Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. “Do they come +back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are more cups than +there were!” + +Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be coffee-cups that +matched the set! And they never had had coffee-cups. + +Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + +“Solomon John!” Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; “I cannot understand the +cups!” + +“It is my doing,” said Solomon John, with an elevated air. “I went to +the lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. ‘What do you do in +Philadelphia, when you haven’t enough cups?’ ‘Borrow of my neighbors,’ +she answered, as quick as she could.” + +“She must have guessed,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + +“That may be,” said Solomon John. “But I whispered to Ann Maria +Bromwick,--she was standing by,--and she took me straight over into +their closet, and old Mr. Bromwick bought this set just where we bought +ours. And they had a coffee-set, too”--“You mean where our father and +mother bought them. We were not born,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“It is all the same,” said Solomon John. “They match exactly.” + +So they did, and more and more came in. + +Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + +“And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!” + +“Ann Maria was very good about it,” said Solomon John; “and quick, too. +And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two dozen coffee and tea +cups!” + +Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told the +Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She +almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. + +“No trouble now!” + +She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. + +No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all +seemed to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, +talking to Mr. + +Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were handing +things around. + +The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls on +the edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a soft, warm +evening, and some of the young people were on the piazza. Everybody was +talking and laughing, except those who were listening. + +Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for more +coffee. + +“It’s a great success, Elizabeth Eliza,” he whispered. “The coffee is +admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should not mind +having a tea-party every week.” + +Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going +off well. + +There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over another +such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + + + + +THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + +Dramatis Personæ.--Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda’s mother, +girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. AMANDA +[coming in with a few graduates ]. + +MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole class home +to the collation. + +MOTHER.--The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + +AMANDA.--The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and Sophie +with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + +MOTHER.--Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + +AMANDA.--Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time for the +collation. + +MOTHER [to herself ].--If the ice-cream will go round. + +AMANDA.--But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? This is +Elizabeth Eliza, girls--you have heard me speak of her. What a pity you +were too late! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We tried to come; we did our best. + +MOTHER.--Did you miss the train? Didn’t you get my postal-card? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We had nothing to do with the train. + +AMANDA.--You don’t mean you walked? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--O no, indeed! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--We came in a horse and carryall. + +JULIA.--I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + +AMANDA.--You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall part. But +didn’t you start in time? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--It all comes from the carryall being so hard to turn. I +told Mr. + +Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that +don’t turn easy. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--They turn easy enough in the stable, so you can’t +tell. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes; we started with the little boys and Solomon John on +the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. She was to drive, and I +was to see to the driving. But the horse was not faced toward Boston. + +MOTHER.--And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an accident! + +AMANDA.--And the little boys--where are they? Are they killed? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--The little boys are all safe. We left them at the +Pringles’, with Solomon John. + +MOTHER.--But what did happen? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We started the wrong way. + +MOTHER.--You lost your way, after all? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--No; we knew the way well enough. + +AMANDA.--It’s as plain as a pikestaff! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--No; we had the horse faced in the wrong +direction,--toward Providence. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--And mother was afraid to have me turn, and we kept on +and on till we should reach a wide place. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I thought we should come to a road that would veer off +to the right or left, and bring us back to the right direction. + +MOTHER.--Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Why, no; if it had broken down we should not have been +in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay in the +carriage, whatever happens. + +JULIA.--But nothing seemed to happen. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--O yes; we met one man after another, and we asked the +way to Boston. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--And all they would say was, “Turn right round--you are +on the road to Providence.” + +MRS. PETERKIN.--As if we could turn right round! That was just what we +couldn’t. + +MOTHER.--You don’t mean you kept on all the way to Providence? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met a man with +a black hand-bag--black leather I should say. + +JULIA.--He must have been a book-agent. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He set it on a +stone. + +MOTHER.--I dare say it was the same one that came here the other day. +He wanted me to buy the “History of the Aborigines, Brought up from +Earliest Times to the Present Date,” in four volumes. I told him I +hadn’t time to read so much. He said that was no matter, few did, and it +wasn’t much worth it--they bought books for the look of the thing. + +AMANDA.--Now, that was illiterate; he never could have graduated. I +hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that man. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--Very likely it was not the same one. + +MOTHER.--Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of the +buttons worn? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I noticed one of the buttons was off. + +AMANDA.--We’re off the subject. Did you buy his book? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--He never offered us his book. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--He told us the same story,--we were going to Providence; +if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I told him I couldn’t; but he took the horse’s head, +and the first thing I knew--AMANDA.--He had yanked you round! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I screamed; I couldn’t help it! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I was glad when it was over! + +MOTHER.--Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was headed +right; but we lost time. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and seeing +you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma myself. I came +near it. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I think there +was partiality about the promotions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I never was good about remembering things. I studied +well enough, but, when I came to say off my lesson, I couldn’t think +what it was. Yet I could have answered some of the other girls’ +questions. + +JULIA.--It’s odd how the other girls always have the easiest questions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I never could remember poetry There was only one thing +I could repeat. + +AMANDA.--Oh, do let us have it now; and then we’ll recite to you some of +our exhibition pieces. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I’ll try. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help entertain +Amanda’s friends. + +[All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and +thoughtful. ] ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I’m trying to think what it is about. +You all know it. You remember, Amanda,--the name is rather long. + +AMANDA.--It can’t be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?--that is one of the longest +names I know. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O dear, no! + +JULIA.--Perhaps it’s Cleopatra. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It does begin with a “C”--only he was a boy. + +AMANDA.--That’s a pity, for it might be “We are seven,” only that is a +girl. Some of them were boys. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It begins about a boy--if I could only think where he +was. I can’t remember. + +AMANDA.--Perhaps he “stood upon the burning deck?” + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--That’s just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + +AMANDA.--Casablanca! Now begin--go ahead. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--“The boy stood on the burning deck, When--When--” + I can’t think who stood there with him. + +JULIA.--If the deck was burning, it must have been on fire. I guess the +rest ran away, or jumped into boats. + +AMANDA.--That’s just it:--“Whence all but him had fled.” + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I think I can say it now. + + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled---” + +[She hesitates. ] Then I think he went-- + +JULIA.--Of course, he fled after the rest. + +AMANDA.--Dear, no! That’s the point. He didn’t. + + “The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O yes. Now I can say it. + + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled; + The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + +But it used to rhyme. I don’t know what has happened to it. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the rhymes. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It must be “without his father’s head,” or, perhaps, +“without his father said” he should. + +JULIA.--I think you must have omitted something. + +AMANDA.--She has left out ever so much! + +MOTHER.--Perhaps it’s as well to omit some, for the ice-cream has come, +and you must all come down. + +AMANDA.--And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite in a +song! + +[Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + + + + +THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + +THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys the +evening before. + +They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing of +horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely five +minutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward till +the family were downstairs. + +It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though +crowded, period of noise. + +The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o’clock, a +terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + +Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: “I am +thankful the lady from Philadelphia is not here!” For she had been +invited to stay a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth of +July, as she was not well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + +And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though every +cow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns! + +“How many little boys are there? How many have we?” exclaimed Mr. +Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking he +would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, to +put himself to sleep. Alas! + +the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + +And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Eliza +was to take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the five +minutes, and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Why +did not Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + +And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen! + +“We will not try this plan again,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“If we live to another Fourth,” added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the +door to inquire into the state of affairs. + +Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour too +early. And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or four +of their friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had given +them permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understood +the day as beginning when they went to bed the night before. This +accounted for the number of horns. + +It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the five +minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained only +the noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possible +pillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bells +and cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,--the sunrise, or +“the rising of the sons,” as Mr. + +Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their +friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + +They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the +suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang some +flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew of +a place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for +“flag-root,” and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They did +bring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. The +boys were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of the +piazza when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along. +As the procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and the +crowd of boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house +with some especial strains of greeting. + +Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a few +moments of quiet, during the boys’ absence from the house on their +visit to the swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she had +a sick-headache, or whether it was all the noise, and she was just +deciding it was the sick headache, but was falling into a light slumber, +when the fresh noise outside began. + +There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of +donkeys, and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers of +the boys. Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles had +Chinese crackers also. + +And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + +Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had never +allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraid +of torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some the +children would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it. + +She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even about +pea-nuts. + +Everybody exclaimed over this: “Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!” + But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at the +Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets in +Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast the +pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, in +the midst of a crowd of people, too! + +Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should be +sorry to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution, +something really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed to +a quiet pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on the +sidewalks as he went along the streets. + +Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + +In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real +celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consented +to give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family as +a Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terrible +noise,--only she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house. + +The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days +beforehand, that their mother might be used to the sound, and had +selected their horns some weeks before. + +Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs. +Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from the +dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,--saltpetre, +charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in the +wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel; +and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary’s. He explained to his +mother that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and she +was quieted. + +Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere for +making a “fulminating paste” of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. He +had written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But the +iron filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or two +before, and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on the +piazza. + +Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening. + +According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, the +reading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in the +morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + +The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + +“That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant,” explained Elizabeth +Eliza. + +“She said the flags of our country,” said the little boys. “We +thought she meant ‘in the country.’” + +Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of the +Declaration of Independence. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add as +much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as they +began:--“When, in the course of--when, in the course of--when, in the +course of human--when in the course of human events--when, in the course +of human events, it becomes--when, in the course of human events, +it becomes necessary--when, in the course of human events it becomes +necessary for one people”--They could not get any farther. Some of the +party decided that “one people” was a good place to stop, and the little +boys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the people. But Mr. +Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party to stay until +sunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes were to be +saved to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + +And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + +Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have +some cold beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and +everybody ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a +dinner. But when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it +to soak, on account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks! + +Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought +tamarinds and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when +the Antiques and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts +and lemonade. + +They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, they +frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppies +were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in the +garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing of +insects, in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Some +neighboring boys were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs. +Peterkin started, and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone. +Mr. Peterkin had set out to find a copy of the “Declaration.” Agamemnon +had disappeared. She had not a moment to decide about her headache. + +She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and if +rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure where +they came down. + +And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed toward +them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for a +practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of the +guests. + +There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they would +better go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkin +hastened into the house to save herself, or see what she could save. +Elizabeth Eliza followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers +and tongs she could find, because they could be thrown out of the window +without breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses +out of the window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on +fire, and had carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. +There was nothing like being prepared. She had always determined to do +the reverse. So with calmness she told Solomon John to take down the +looking-glasses. But she met with a difficulty,--there were no pokers and +tongs, as they did not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin +had been afraid of them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and +kettles up to the upper windows, ready to be thrown out. + +But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the +attic in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the +most unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags +of old pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, +she said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks on +Fourth of July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all the +company declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long +before Mrs. Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company +was only out for show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought +it already too much celebrated. + +Elizabeth Eliza’s kettles and pans had come down through the windows +with a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boys +thought. + +Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy of +the Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and he +had to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannon +began, he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bells +and sounding of the cannon. + +Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjoram +pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off with +great explosions. + +At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon, +with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside. + +“I have suddenly remembered where I read about the ‘fulminating paste’ +we made. It was in the preface to ‘Woodstock,’ and I have been round to +borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraid +about the ‘paste’ going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where is +the fulminating paste?” + +Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel. +It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told him +of the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it the +louder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon John +felt it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for a +medicine. + +He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon’s book: “This paste, +when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take +fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell.” + +“Where is the paste?” repeated Solomon John, in terror. + +“We made it just twenty-six hours ago,” said Agamemnon. + +“We put it on the piazza,” exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling the +facts, “and it is in front of our mother’s feet!” + +He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, +flinging aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon the +piazza at the same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded at +once with the shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same moment +the paste “fulminated” into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs. +Peterkin! + +It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. The +bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had just +reached the closing words: “Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred +honor.” + +“We are all blown up, as I feared we should be,” Mrs. Peterkin at +length ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of +the piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered +limbs about her. + +It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the +piazza, with closed eyes. + +At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, “Is anybody killed?” + +There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody +was killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great +while before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move. + +But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of +Solomon John’s fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had +his face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza’s +muslin dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one had +lost any limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flying +in the air. Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmly +shut. + +No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of Solomon +John’s nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the +“fulminating paste.” + +Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how she +got there. + +Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused the +neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on every +side, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boys +hastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. Solomon +John’s other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough. + +Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have a +headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to see +if it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures of +the day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boys +had been allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there was +likely to be but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared she +should never more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetred +beef, and she should never venture to take another spoonful of potash. + + + + +THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. + +THERE was some doubt about the weather. Solomon John looked at the +“Probabilities;” there were to be “areas” of rain in the New England +States. + +Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of rain were +to be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed walking round +the house in a procession, to examine the sky. As they returned they +met Ann Maria Bromwick, who was to go, much surprised not to find them +ready. + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the lady +from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to follow in a +wagon, and to stop for the daughters of the lady from Philadelphia. The +wagon arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall. + +A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where anybody +could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as soon as it was +thought of. + +Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; somebody was always +complaining of being too hot or too cold at a picnic, and it would be a +great convenience to see if she really were so. He thought now he might +take a barometer, as “Probabilities” was so uncertain. Then, if it went +down in a threatening way, they could all come back. + +The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never tried +them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. Solomon John +had put in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a book of poetry. Mr. +Peterkin did not like sitting on the ground, and proposed taking two +chairs, one for himself and one for anybody else. The little boys were +perfectly happy; they jumped in and out of the wagon a dozen times, with +new india-rubber boots, bought for the occasion. + +Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already had +enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying to remember +things. So many mistakes were made. The things that were to go in the +wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in the carryall had to be +taken out for the wagon! + +Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her veil, +and Mr. + +Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + +Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she +must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could not she +think of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any day to think +what to have for dinner, but how much easier now it would be to stay at +home quietly and order the dinner,--and there was the butcher’s cart! But +now they must think of everything. + +At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to +drive. + +Twice they started, and twice they found something was left behind,--the +loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a basket of sandwiches +on the front porch. And just as the wagon was leaving, the little boys +shrieked, “The basket of things was left behind!” + +Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the house, to +see if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; he shut +the front door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into the wagon +himself. It started off and went down the street without him! + +He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why had they +not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel of the +wagon, so that he might have sent a message in such a case!), when the +Bromwicks drove out of their yard in their buggy, and took him in. + +They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they were +all to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin called to +Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been holding the barometer +and the thermometer, and they waggled so that it troubled her. It was +hard keeping the thermometer out of the sun, which would make it so +warm. It really took away her pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon +decided to get into the carryall, on the seat with his father, and take +the barometer and thermometer. + +The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or Lonetown +Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, but maybe the drive +to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + +Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the picnic was +got up for her. + +But where was she? + +“I declare,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I forgot to stop for her!” The whole +picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + +It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner as +they passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, and Mrs. +Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers that she had not +noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten something! She +did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short turn, and it was getting +late, and what would the lady from Philadelphia think of it, and had +they not better give it all up? + +But everybody said “No!” and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a wide turn +round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took up the lady from +Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind and took up their daughters, +for there was a driver in the wagon besides Solomon John. + +Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might as well +stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question was put again, +Where should they go? + +The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nook--it sounded +inviting. + +There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, but +there was a good place to tie the horses. + +Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know what +the lady from Philadelphia would think of their having forgotten her, +and the more she tried to explain it, the worse it seemed to make it. +She supposed they never did such things in Philadelphia; she knew they +had invited all the world to a party, but she was sure she would never +want to invite anybody again. There was no fun about it till it was all +over. Such a mistake--to have a party for a person, and then go without +her; but she knew they would forget something! She wished they had not +called it their picnic. + +There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. “Was anything broke?” + exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. “Was something forgotten?” asked the lady from +Philadelphia. + +No! But Mr. Peterkin didn’t know the way; and here he was leading all +the party, and a long row of carriages following. + +They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, +unless it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They were made +to drive up, and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different +direction, but they could bring the party round to it through the +meadows. + +The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a +pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry +Nook, and had better keep on, So they kept on. It proved to be an +excellent place, where they could tie the horses to a fence. Mrs. +Peterkin did not like their all heading different ways; it seemed as if +any of them might come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the +little boys had their kites flapping round. The Tremletts insisted upon +the whole party going up the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons +boys, and the little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all +the party had to carry everything up to the rocks. The large basket of +“things” was very heavy. + +It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to +take it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and old +Mr. Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + +And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. The +other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the +carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And the table-cloth was +spread,--for they did bring a table-cloth,--and the baskets were opened, +and the picnic really began. + +The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been +forgotten, and the Tremletts’ basket had been left on their front +door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, and +everything they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were perfectly +happy, and ate of all the kinds of cake. Two of the Tremletts would +stand while they were eating, because they were afraid of the ants and +the spiders that seemed to be crawling round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to +keep poking with a fern leaf to drive the insects out of the plates. +The lady from Philadelphia was made comfortable with the cushions and +shawls, leaning against a rock. Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she +had been forgotten. + +John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: “Why is a +pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? Because one is +a grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!” + +Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her +friends in Boston had told her. It was, “Why is--” It began, “Why is +something like--no, Why are they different?” It was something about an +old woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very +funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was +alike or different. + +The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth +Eliza’s conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one +of the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just +discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to +rain down directly. + +Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + +There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it +appeared that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had +gone back for it twice. + +Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put +the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the +hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + +There was a great cry for the “emergency basket,” that had not been +opened yet. + +Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into +it what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. Everybody +stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered with newspapers. +First came out a backgammon-board. “That would be useful,” said Ann +Maria, “if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody’s barn.” Next, a +pair of andirons. “What were they for?” “In case of needing a fire +in the woods,” explained Solomon John. Then came a volume of the +Encyclopædia. But it was the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and +contained only A and a part of B, and nothing about rain or showers. +Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in by the little boys, and Elizabeth +Eliza’s book of poetry, and a change of boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small +foot-rug in case the ground should be damp; some paint-boxes of the +little boys’; a box of fish-hooks for Solomon John; an ink-bottle, +carefully done up in a great deal of newspaper, which was fortunate, as +the ink was oozing out; some old magazines, and a blacking-bottle; +and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was all very entertaining, and there +seemed to be something for every occasion but the present. Old +Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy. It was all so +interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the carriages. + +The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on +setting up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and +they might as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon John and Ann +Maria had arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their +watches, so that they might see if it was right. And then came a great +exclamation at the hour: “It was time they were all going home!” + +The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she +felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they +had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes +to consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time +to fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away. But +it had been a delightful picnic, after all. + + + + +THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. + +EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have “something” + at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to +get up a “great Exposition,” to show to the people of the place. But Mr. +Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for +“exhibits,” and it was given up. + +There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common, +and the ladies of the place thought it ought to be something +handsome,--something more than a common trough,--and they ought to work +for it. + +Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, and +she felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, but +she would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written to +the lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, if +they had asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble. + +Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what they +wanted? + +It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask +about. And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but +you could not always put them together. There was this idea of the +water-trough, and then this idea of getting some money for it. So +she began with writing to the lady from Philadelphia. The little boys +believed she spent enough for it in postage-stamps before it all came +out. + +But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have +some charades at their own house for the benefit of the needed +water-trough,--tickets sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwick +was to help act, because she could bring some old bonnets and gowns that +had been worn by an aged aunt years ago, and which they had always kept. +Elizabeth Eliza said that Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they +must borrow all the red things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She +knew people would be willing to lend things. + +Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, they +were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it too +odd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything to +frighten her mother. + +She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her +letters,--the one that had “Turk” in it,--but they ought to have two words +“Oh, yes,” Ann Maria said, “you must have two words; if the people paid +for their tickets they would want to get their money’s worth.” + +Solomon John thought you might have “Hindoos”; the little boys could +color their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the first +scene an Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for +“dues,” and then have the little boys for Hindoos. + +A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit. +There was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doors +stuck when you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that the +Pan-Elocutionists had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne, +and so it was decided to ask John Osborne to help. + +If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said he +was sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make a +stage if John Osborne would help put it up. + +All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann +Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and they +spent the evening in trying on the various things,--such odd caps and +remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of +bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off +well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs. + +Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys +brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with +costumes. + +Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what +they were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she +had,--it would all come of use. + +The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon +and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped +zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There +was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and +such a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came +in the little boys, shouting, “All the tickets are sold, at ten cents +each!” + +“Seventy tickets sold!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + +“Seven dollars for the water-trough!” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“And we do not know yet what we are going to act!” exclaimed Ann Maria. + +But everybody’s attention had to be given to the scene that was going +up in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was +magnificent, and represented a forest. + +“Where are we going to put seventy people?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, +venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter. + +The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted +of boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and +sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made +ready! It was late, and some of the people had already come to secure +good seats, even before the actors had assembled. + +“What are we going to act?” asked Ann Maria. + +“I have been so torn with one thing and another,” said Elizabeth Eliza, +“I haven’t had time to think!” + +“Haven’t you the word yet?” asked John Osborne, for the audience was +flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + +“I have got one word in my pocket,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “in the letter +from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. +Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don’t yet understand the whole of +the word.” + +“You don’t know the word, and the people are all here!” said John +Osborne, impatiently. + +“Elizabeth Eliza!” exclaimed Ann Maria, “Solomon John says I’m to be a +Turkish slave, and I’ll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils +are? You know I brought them over last night.” + +“Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere +scarf!” exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + +“Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!” cried +another of the boys. + +And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other side +of the thin curtain. + +“You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sit +where you can hear.” + +“And let Julia Fitch come where she can see,” said another voice. + +“And we have not any words for them to hear or see!” exclaimed John +Osborne, behind the curtain. + +“Oh, I wish we’d never determined to have charades! exclaimed Elizabeth +Eliza. + +“Can’t we return the money?” + +“They are all here; we must give them something!” said John Osborne, +heroically. + +“And Solomon John is almost dressed,” reported Ann Maria, +winding a veil around her head. + +“Why don’t we take Solomon John’s word ‘Hindoos’ for the first?” said +Agamemnon. + +John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the “hin,” or anything, +and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a +feather duster. + +The bell rang, and the first scene began. + +It was a great success. John Osborne’s Irish was perfect. Nobody guessed +the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause. + +Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, and +made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as an +old woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the +audience, speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who +appeared in a more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly +back, saying she had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the +effect intended, and it was loudly cheered. + +Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of +their friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano +till the scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done up +in blankets and turbans. + +“I am thankful that is over,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for now we can act +my word. Only I don’t myself know the whole.” + +“Never mind, let us act it,” said John Osborne, “and the audience can +guess the whole.” + +“The first syllable must be the letter P,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “and we +must have a school.” + +Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on as +scholars. + +All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school +by flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + +“They’ll guess that to be ‘row,’” said John Osborne in despair; “they’ll +never guess ‘P’!” + +The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John +Osborne’s army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all +the family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him, +veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes. + +This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth +Eliza was sure she did not know what to do,--whether to kneel or sit +down; she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could +not help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however, +kept his solemnity. “I suppose I need not say much,” he had said, “for I +shall be the ‘Turk who was dreaming of the hour.’” But he did order +the little boys to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice +insisted they must have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and +the scene closed. + +“What are we to do now?” asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion. + +“We must have an ‘inn’ scene,” said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her +letter; “two inns, if we can.” + +“We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going +to another,” said John Osborne. + +“Now is the time for the bandboxes,” said Solomon John, who, since +his Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the +charade. + +Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw +Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns. +The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes. +Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the +applause was immense. At last the curtain fell. + +“Now for the whole,” said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage +over a heap of umbrellas. + +“I can’t think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the +whole,” said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + +“Listen, they are guessing,” said John Osborne. “‘D-ice-box.’ I don’t +wonder they get it wrong.” + +“But we know it can’t be that!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony. +“How can we act the whole if we don’t know it ourselves?” + +“Oh, I see it!” said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. “Get your whole +family in for the last scene.” + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the +background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon +John, leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance, +and in front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in their +india-rubber boots. + +The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, “The Peterkins!” + “P-Turk-Inns!” + +It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole. + +“What a tableau!” exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; “the Peterkin family guessing +their own charade.” + + + + +THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. + +AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was +called a “semi-detached” house, when there was no other “semi” to it. +It had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built the +other half. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the +terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully +satisfied with the one they were in. + +But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new +railroad had to be carried directly through the place, and a station was +to be built on that very spot. + +Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether they +could not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give up +the lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant, +and it would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be no +danger of missing the train, if one were sure of the direction. + +But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and the +steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under the +dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what the +family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move. + +But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that +satisfied the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a +tan-pit; another was too much in the middle of the town, next door to +a machine-shop. Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, that +should face the sunset; while Mr. + +Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towards +the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), for +the sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house with +a great many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr. +Peterkin did not like so much slamming, and felt there was more danger +of burglars with so many doors. + +Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop. +If he could have carpenters’ tools and a workbench he could build an +observatory, if it were wanted. + +But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leave +their house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch’s, at the +Corners. It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, and +was opposite a barn. There were three other doors,--too many to +please Mr. Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was no +observatory, and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house was +too low and some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had +hoped for a view; but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more +healthy to have to walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they +might get tired of the same every day. + +And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carried +their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent the +evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everything +beforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her mother +dreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkin +shook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort. +Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme. + +Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme would +make it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, which +could be put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlor +furniture could be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms, +in which Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the move +went on. Then the old parlor carpets could be taken up for the new +dining-room and the downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhile +dine at the old house. Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the +distance was considerable, as he felt exercise would be good for them +all. + +Elizabeth Eliza’s programme then arranged that the dining-room furniture +should be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlor +carpets would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleep +in the old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable place +in one house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, he +would find some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day there +should be moved only the furniture needed for a certain room. Great +confusion would be avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote +these last words at the head of her programme,--“Misplace nothing.” + +And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of the +family. + +THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.--Page 126. The first thing to be done was to +buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at some +in Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with her +father, Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them. + +They got home about eleven o’clock, and when they reached the house +were dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, already +partly filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, a +large book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meet +them in an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture carts +had appeared soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the men +had insisted upon beginning to move the things. In vain had she shown +Elizabeth Eliza’s programme; in vain had she insisted they must take +only the parlor furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy +pieces in the bottom of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So +she had seen them go into every room in the house, and select one piece +of furniture after another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza’s +programme; she doubted if they could have read it if they had looked at +it. + +Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea they +would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fill +the carts. + +But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,--a heavy piece of +furniture,--and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables. +Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every book +on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books in +the bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from the +shelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters as +natural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought all +to be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon’s +Encyclopædia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting it +with the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four men +were bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father’s room, and +they called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene of +confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore them +to the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay in +hopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in +despair upon the end of a sofa. + +“It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet,” said Solomon +John. + +“Is not the carpet bought?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they were +obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had come +back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + +“What shall we do?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, “I +shall be back in a moment.” + +Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumes +of his Encyclopædia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a man +lifting a wardrobe. + +Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. “I did not like to go and ask her. But +I felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the whole +matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan’s.” + +“Makillan’s” was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only one +all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed they +might prefer one from Boston. + +The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to +Makillan’s to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But where +should they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr. +Peterkin’s “quiet hour”? + +Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were +covered with things. + +It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks, +who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should get +something to eat at the baker’s. + +Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to receive the +carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. After +all there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house, +and in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza stepped +down the front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to the +door. But it was locked, and she had no keys! + +“Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?” she exclaimed. + +No, he had not seen them since the morning,--when--ah!--yes, the little +boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber boots, +as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some door +unfastened--perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, each +door, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat! + +“I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with +them,” said Agamemnon; “or else go home to see if they left them there.” + The school was in a different direction from the house, and far at the +other end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys’ +school, as he proposed to do after their move. + +“That will be the only way,” said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been +arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and not +come home at noon. + +She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the +carts soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with the +furniture? Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she should +need them to set the furniture up in the right places. But they could +not stop for this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, in +the garden, and Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There was +something from every room in the house! Even the large family chest, +which had proved too heavy for them to travel with had come down from +the attic, and stood against the front door. + +And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with a +wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Some +opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and Elizabeth +Eliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furniture +appeared to be standing full in view. + +It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had been +to the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one of +the little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes. +Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrow +had waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept and +cleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there +would not be time enough to do anything. + +And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the +furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a little +place in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and go +home to sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringing +the bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs. + +In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had been +there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agony +about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how could +it be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainly +could not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left till +the house was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of one +side. But Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was to +be moved without being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips +narrow enough to go out. One of the men loading the remaining cart +disposed of the question by coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and +carrying it on on top of his wagon. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But what +should they do?--no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room table +and sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, and +spoons here. In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed; +everything was misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eat +here and sleep here, and what had become of the little boys? + +Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packing +the dining-room china. + +They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one +suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they should +want to take them next. + +Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + +“Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!” she +exclaimed. + +Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkin +would be there for his “quiet hour.” And when the carters at last +appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed and +said, “There is nothing left,” and meekly consented to be led away. + +They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in a +rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the opposite +barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken back +with him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side of +the house. + +Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, the +floors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to stand +in a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,--there was +nothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had not +come, and although the tables were there they were covered with chairs +and boxes. + +At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. It +contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same moment +appeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed all +this on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon +John came rushing in from the gate. + +“The last load is coming! We are all moved!” he exclaimed; and the +little boys joined in a chorus, “We are moved! we are moved!” + +Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on the +parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza’s hat-box. The +parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed on +the parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and the +looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they were +moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved. + + + + +THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + +CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The Peterkins had +moved into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where +they would have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of +course they would then have more time. + +Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a long +time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when +she wanted to play on her piano. + +Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. +The upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of +the door to the closet under the stairs. But the under table-cloth was +kept in a drawer in the closet. So, whenever the cloths were changed, +the trunk had to be pushed away under some projecting shelves to make +room for opening the closet-door (as the under table-cloth must be taken +out first), then the trunk was pushed back to make room for it to be +opened for the upper table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to +push the trunk away again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. +This always consumed a great deal of time. + +Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find a +place in it. + +Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house there was +no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept upstairs, which +was very inconvenient, and the volumes of the Encyclopædia could not be +together. There was not room for all in one place. So from A to P were +to be found downstairs, and from Q to Z were scattered in different +rooms upstairs. And the worst of it was, you could never remember +whether from A to P included P. “I always went upstairs after P,” said +Agamemnon, “and then always found it downstairs, or else it was the +other way.” + +Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the books all +in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking for them. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. If +they went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. Elizabeth +Eliza could talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, German with the +Germans; Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish +in Spain; and perhaps he could himself master all the Eastern Languages +and Russian. + +Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all the +family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth Eliza +dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more willing. + +Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always said +she would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, and she was +sure it did not look like it now. + +Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something new every day, +and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a telephone, for they +had bridges in the very earliest days. + +Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could be found +in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three could be brought +out in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for them, and could learn a +little on the way out and in. + +Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. He was +told that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed they should +all begin with Sanscrit. They would thus require but one teacher, and +could branch out into the other languages afterward. + +But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth +Eliza already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk +it, without much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of the +side-stands. But she found she had been talking with a Moorish gentleman +who did not understand French. Mr. + +Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers came +at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they would be using +different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought something might be +learned by having them all at once. Each one might pick up something +beside the language he was studying, and it was a great thing to learn +to talk a foreign language while others were talking about you. Mrs. +Peterkin was afraid it would be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it +was all right. + +Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they ought to +have foreign teachers, who spoke only their native languages. But, in +this case, how could they engage them to come, or explain to them about +the carryall, or arrange the proposed hours? He did not understand how +anybody ever began with a foreigner, because he could not even tell him +what he wanted. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and +pantomime. + +Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be done. +Elizabeth Eliza explained how “langues” meant both “languages” and +“tongues,” and they could point to their tongues. For practice, the +little boys represented the foreign teachers talking in their different +languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon John went to invite them to come +out, and teach the family by a series of signs. + +Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they might +almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and trust to +explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not yet made, +it might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they were +invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to his mouth +as he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and it looked a +great deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than asking them +to teach. Agamemnon suggested that they might carry the separate +dictionaries when they went to see the teachers, and that would show +that they meant lessons, and not lunch. + +Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for them, +if they had come all that way; but she certainly did not know what they +were accustomed to eat. + +Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the +foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and they +might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys were +delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. Agamemnon had heard +that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the Germans, and he would +inquire how it was made in the first lesson. Solomon John had heard they +were all very fond of garlic, and thought it would be a pretty attention +to have some in the house the first day, that they might be cheered by +the odor. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by her +knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons before the +Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + +There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to obtain +teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He did not want +to be tempted to talk any English with them. He wanted the latest +and freshest languages, and at last came home one day with a list of +“brand-new foreigners.” + +They decided to borrow the Bromwicks’ carryall to use, beside their own, +for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon drove into town to +bring all the teachers out. One was a Russian gentleman, travelling, who +came with no idea of giving lessons, but perhaps he would consent to do +so. He could not yet speak English. + +Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several gentlemen +who had recommended the different teachers, and he went with Agamemnon +from hotel to hotel collecting them. He found them all very polite, +and ready to come, after the explanation by signs agreed upon. The +dictionaries had been forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which +looked the same, and seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + +Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian instead +of one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new teacher of that +language lately arrived. + +But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian gentleman +into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for he was a Turk, +sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! They glared at each +other, and began to assail each other in every language they knew, none +of which Mr. Peterkin could understand. It might be Russian, it might be +Arabic. It was easy to understand that they would never consent to sit +in the same carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten +about the Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + +Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But the +French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to go with +him in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For the German +professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As soon as the French +gentleman put his foot on the step and saw him, he addressed him in +such forcible language that the German professor got out of the door the +other side, and came round on the sidewalk, and took him by the collar. +Certainly the German and French gentlemen could not be put together, and +more crowd collected! + +Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word “Herr,” and +he applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the +other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither +of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr. +Peterkin with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian +teachers behind, vociferating to each other in languages unknown to +Mr. Peterkin, while he feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so +he drove home as fast as possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The +Spaniard by his side was a little moody, while the Turk and the German +behind did not utter a word. + +At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin +and Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her +shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful +to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the +library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and +Russian apart. + +Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his +Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The +little boys took their copy of the “Arabian Nights” to the Turk. Mr. +Peterkin attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian +dictionary, as he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs. +Peterkin was trying to inform her teacher that she had no books in +Spanish. She got over all fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad, +and she tried to talk a little, using English words, but very slowly, +and altering the accent as far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed, +looked gravely interested, and was very polite. + +Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the +Parisian. + +She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But +he understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her +vocabularies, and went on with--“J’ai le livre.” “As-tu le pain?” + “L’enfant a une poire.” He listened with great attention, and replied +slowly. Suddenly she started after making out one of his sentences, and +went to her mother to whisper, “They have made the mistake you feared. +They think they are invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for +our politeness in inviting them to déjeûner,--that means breakfast!” + +“They have not had their breakfast!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at +her Spaniard; “he does look hungry! What shall we do?” + +Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How +should they make them understand that they invited them to teach, not +lunch. Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out “apprendre” in the +dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they found it means both to +teach and to learn! What should they do? The foreigners were now sitting +silent in their different corners. The Spaniard grew more and more +sallow. What if he should faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of +his mustaches to a point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian +should fight the Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the +airs of the Parisian? + +“We must give them something to eat,” said Mr. Peterkin, in a low tone. +“It would calm them.” + +“If I only knew what they were used to eating,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others were used +to eating, and they might bring in anything. + +Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could make +good coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American dish. Solomon John +sent a little boy for some olives. + +It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked beans. +Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled eggs, and some +bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every man spoke his own +tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + +Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to her. They +all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was fluent about +“les moeurs Américaines.” Elizabeth Eliza supposed he alluded to their +not having set any table. The Turk smiled, the Russian was voluble. In +the midst of the clang of the different languages, just as Mr. Peterkin +was again repeating, under cover of the noise of many tongues, “How +shall we make them understand that we want them to teach?”--at this +very moment the door was flung open, and there came in the lady from +Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + +She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different languages! +The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together they called +upon her to explain for them. Could she help them? Could she tell the +foreigners they wanted to take lessons? Lessons? They had no sooner +uttered the word than their guests all started up with faces beaming +with joy. It was the one English word they all knew! They had come to +Boston to give lessons! The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English +in this way. The thought pleased them more than the déjeûner. + +Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. The +first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to teach. + + + + +MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. + +AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a profession. +It was important on account of the little boys. If he should make a +trial of several different professions he could find out which would be +the most likely to be successful, and it would then be easy to bring up +the little boys in the right direction. + +Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family occasionally +made mistakes, and had come near disgracing themselves. Now was their +chance to avoid this in future by giving the little boys a proper +education. + +Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From earliest +childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips of paper. +Mrs. Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She could not bear +the idea of his bringing one disease after the other into the family +circle. Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. He thought he might +manage it if he should not have to see his patients while they were +sick. If he could only visit them when they were recovering, and when +the danger of infection was over, he would really enjoy making calls. + +He should have a comfortable doctor’s chaise, and take one of the little +boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he could get +through the conversational part very well, and feeling the pulse, +perhaps looking at the tongue. He should take and read all the +newspapers, and so be thoroughly acquainted with the news of the day to +talk of. But he should not like to be waked up at night to visit. Mr. +Peterkin thought that would not be necessary. He had seen signs on doors +of “Night Doctor,” and certainly it would be as convenient to have a +sign of “Not a Night Doctor.” + +Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his patients +who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger of infection. And +then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his prescriptions would probably be so +satisfactory that they would keep his patients well,--not too well to do +without a doctor, but needing his recipes. + +Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, by a +desire he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only invent +something important, and get out a patent, he would make himself known +all over the country. If he could get out a patent he would be set up +for life, or at least as long as the patent lasted, and it would be well +to be sure to arrange it to last through his natural life. + +Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been +suggested by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their new +house. He had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked it up in +the Encyclopædia, and had spent a day or two in the Public Library, in +reading about Chubb’s Lock and other patent locks. + +But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be made +alike! + +He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, Solomon +John said, with all inventions, with Christopher Columbus, and +everybody. Nobody knew the invention till it was invented, and then it +looked very simple. With Agamemnon’s plan you need have but one key, +that should fit everything! It should be a medium-sized key, not too +large to carry. It ought to answer for a house door, but you might open +a portmanteau with it. How much less danger there would be of losing +one’s keys if there were only one to lose! + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were out, +and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But Agamemnon +explained that he did not mean there should be but one key in the +family, or in a town,--you might have as many as you pleased, only they +should all be alike. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,--they could keep +the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the key of her +upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And Mrs. Peterkin felt +it might be a convenience if they had one on each story, so that they +need not go up and down for it. + +Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide about +the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one morning, they went +into town to visit a patent-agent. + +Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady from +Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + +“I have had a delightful call,” she said; “but--perhaps I was wrong--I +could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon’s proposed +patent. I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things are kept +profound secrets; they say women always do tell things; I suppose that +is the reason.” + +“But where is the harm?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. “I’m sure you can trust +the lady from Philadelphia.” + +Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had +questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had suggested +that “if everybody had the same key there would be no particular use in +a lock.” + +“Did you explain to her,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that we were not all +to have the same keys?” + +“I couldn’t quite understand her,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but she seemed +to think that burglars and other people might come in if the keys were +the same.” + +“Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!” said Mrs. Peterkin, +indignantly. + +“But about other people,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “there is my upper +drawer; the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,--and their +presents in it!” + +“And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda,” said Mrs. Peterkin, +considering. + +Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know what +the lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza then proposed +going into town, but it would take so long she might not reach them in +time. A telegram would be better, and she ventured to suggest using the +Telegraph Alarm. + +For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was provided +with all the modern improvements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. +Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since their experience the last +winter, when their water-pipes were frozen up. She had been originally +attracted to the house by an old pump at the side, which had led her +to believe there were no modern improvements. It had pleased the little +boys, too. They liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump +all the water needed, and bring it into the house. + +There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner by the +barn. + +Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the little +boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great fondness for +pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, that the well was +dry. There was no water in it; so she had some moss thrown down, and an +old feather-bed, for safety, and the old well was a favorite place of +amusement. + +The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and “set- +waters” everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a +hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + +Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would be +summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to conceal from +them the use of the knobs, and the card of directions at the side was +destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first inventions to help this. +He had arranged a number of similar knobs to be put in rows in different +parts of the house, to appear as if they were intended for ornament, and +had added some to the original knobs. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a patent +for this invention. + +It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed sending +a telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was pleased with the +idea. + +Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she +herself would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write the +telegram. + +“I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning,” she said, looking at +one of the rows of knobs. + +Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had put three +extra knobs at each end. + +“But which is the end, and which is the beginning,--the top or the +bottom?” Mrs. + +Peterkin asked hopelessly. + +Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened with her +to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see the telegraph +boy? + +They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible +noise was heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the +fire-brigade were seen rushing at a fatal speed! + +It was a terrific moment! + +“I have touched the fire-alarm,” Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + +Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the +fire-engines were approaching. + +“Do not be alarmed,” said the chief engineer; “the furniture shall be +carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary.” + +“Move again!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + +Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a telegram +to her father, who was in Boston. + +“It is not important,” said the head engineer; “the fire will all be +out before it could reach him.” + +And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon the +roof. + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more +necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + +“Write a telegram to your father,” she said to Elizabeth Eliza, “to +‘come home directly.’” + +“That will take but three words,” said Elizabeth Eliza, with presence of +mind, “and we need ten. I was just trying to make them out.” + +“What has come now?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried +again to the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the street. + +“I must have touched the carriage-knob,” cried Mrs. Peterkin, “and I +pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!” + +Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were assembling. +Even their own little boys had returned from school, and were showing +the firemen the way to the well. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound arose. She +had touched the burglar-alarm! + +The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, had +invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with a knob. A +wire attached to the knob moved a spring that could put in motion a +number of watchmen’s rattles, hidden under the eaves of the piazza. + +All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those of +the neighborhood who had not before assembled around the house. At this +moment Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + +“You need not send for more help,” he said; “we have all the engines +in town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the neighborhood; +there’s no use in springing any more alarms. I can’t find the fire yet, +but we have water pouring all over the house.” + +Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + +“We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, who are +in town,” she endeavored to explain. + +“If it is necessary,” said the chief engineer, “you might send it down +in one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing before the +door. We’d better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you +women might fill the carriages with smaller things.” + +Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself +with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob. + +Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice +of the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of +the hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched +the right knob. It was the fourth from the beginning; but the beginning +was at the other end! + +She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind him her +father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and hurried toward +them. + +Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where were +the flames? + +He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? Who was +dead? + +Who was to be married? + +He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and read it +aloud. + +“Come to us directly--the house is NOT on fire!” + +The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + +“The house not on fire!” he exclaimed. “What are we all summoned for?” + +“It is a mistake,” cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. “We +touched the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy!” + +“We touched all the wrong knobs,” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from the +house. + +The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with a +few exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines were +heard approaching. + +Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one of the +carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was now nearly +ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought to send a telegram +down by the boy, for the evening papers, to announce that the Peterkins’ +house had not been on fire. + +The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of flowers, +bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by the feet of the +crowd that had assembled. + +The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his men to +order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. The collection +of boys followed the procession as it went away. The fire-brigade +hastily removed covers from some of the furniture, restored the rest to +their places, and took away their ladders. Many neighbors remained, but +Mr. Peterkin hastened into the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before he +went in, as to the success of their visit to town. + +“We saw all the patent-agents,” answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow +whisper. “Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything to do +with it.” + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into the +house. She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she recalled +some words of Solomon John. When they were discussing the patent he +had said that many an inventor had grown gray before his discovery was +acknowledged by the public. Others might reap the harvest, but it came, +perhaps, only when he was going to his grave. + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed him +silently into the house. + + + + +AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. + +THERE had apparently been some mistake in Agamemnon’s education. He had +been to a number of colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his +course in any one. + +He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. It +was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always tried to +find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit upon the right +thing. + +Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the +elective system, where you were to choose what study you might take. +This had always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + +“And how was a feller to tell,” Solomon John had asked, “whether he +wanted to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out awful +hard!” + +Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood up. He was +at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he would come out a +great scholar, because she could never get him away from his books. + +And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the library, +reading and reading. But they were always the wrong books. + +For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the +Spartan war. + +This turned Agamemnon’s attention to the Fenians, and to study the +subject he read up on “Charles O’Malley,” and “Harry Lorrequer,” and +some later novels of that sort, which did not help him on the subject +required, yet took up all his time, so that he found himself unfitted +for anything else when the examinations came. In consequence he was +requested to leave. + +Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason that +Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was always asked +the questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; if the professors +had only asked something else! + +But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + +Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the things +they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing to take +for students only those who already knew certain things. She thought +Agamemnon might be a professor in a college for those students who +didn’t know those things. + +“I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal,” she +added, “or they would not have asked you so many questions; they would +have told you something.” + +Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he had made +with some of his classmates. They had taken a great deal of trouble to +bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to make a bonfire with, +under one of the professors’ windows. Agamemnon had felt it would be a +compliment to the professor. + +It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return from +successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled upon lofty +heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes after distant +adventures. As he plodded back and forward he imagined himself some hero +of antiquity. He was reading “Plutarch’s Lives” with deep interest. This +had been recommended at a former college, and he was now taking it up in +the midst of his French course. + +He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in Lynn, +perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and glorify its +heroes. + +For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in +consequence of going back and forward through the snow, carrying the +wood. + +But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor’s +room, and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the whole +institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his predecessor, +who gave him his name, must have regretted that other bonfire, on the +shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a daughter. + +The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, after +having been in the institution but a few months. + +He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding about the +hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly at ten o’clock, +but found, afterward, that he should have gone at half-past six. This +hour seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin unseasonable, at a time of year +when the sun was not up, and he would have been obliged to go to the +expense of candles. + +Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever he could +be admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it might be found. +But, after going to five, and leaving each before the year was out, he +gave it up. + +He determined to lay out the money that would have been expended in a +collegiate education in buying an Encyclopædia, the most complete that +he could find, and to spend his life studying it systematically. He +would not content himself with merely reading it, but he would study +into each subject as it came up, and perfect himself in that subject. +By the time, then, that he had finished the Encyclopædia he should have +embraced all knowledge, and have experienced much of it. + +The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of every +subject that came up. + +He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second +column of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. This led +him to the study of music. He bought a flute, and took some lessons, and +attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the piano. This, of course, +distracted him from his work on the Encyclopædia. But he did not wish to +return to A until he felt perfect in music. This required a long time. + +Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was requested +to “see Keys.” It was necessary, then, to turn to “Keys.” This was +about the time the family were moving, which we have mentioned, when the +difficult subject of keys came up, that suggested to him his own simple +invention, and the hope of getting a patent for it. This led him astray, +as inventions before have done with master-minds, so that he was drawn +aside from his regular study. + +The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career Agamemnon +had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of life, if he should +master the Encyclopædia in a thorough way. + +Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a college +course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different Encyclopædias +that appeared. + +There would be no “spreads” involved; no expense of receiving friends at +entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that it would not +be necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At all the times of +his leaving he had sold out favorably to other occupants. + +Solomon John’s destiny was more uncertain. He was looking forward +to being a doctor some time, but he had not decided whether to be +allopathic or homeopathic, or whether he could not better invent his own +pills. And he could not understand how to obtain his doctor’s degree. + +For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist’s store. But he could +serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it was found +he was not familiar enough with the Latin language to compound the +drugs. He agreed to spend his evenings in studying the Latin grammar; +but his course was interrupted by his being dismissed for treating the +little boys too frequently to soda. + +The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The family had +been much exercised with regard to their education. Elizabeth Eliza +felt that everything should be expected from them; they ought to take +advantage from the family mistakes. Every new method that came up was +tried upon the little boys. + +They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and were +just able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now considered +best that children should not be taught to read till they were ten years +old. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken from +them even then, they might forget what they had learned. But no, the +evil was done; the brain had received certain impressions that could not +be blurred over. + +This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the public +schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling school, and +joined a class in music, and another in dancing; they went to some +afternoon lectures for children, when there was no other school, and +belonged to a walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin was dissatisfied by the +slowness of their progress. He visited the schools himself, and found +that they did not lead their classes. It seemed to him a great deal of +time was spent in things that were not instructive, such as putting on +and taking off their india-rubber boots. + +Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school and +taught by Agamemnon from the Encyclopædia. The rest of the family might +help in the education at all hours of the day. Solomon John could take +up the Latin grammar, and she could give lessons in French. + +The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not want to +have the study-hours all the time. + +Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should make +their life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at breakfast, and +study everything put upon the table,--the material of which it was made, +and where it came from. + +In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study of music, +and from one meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. + +“We shall have the assistance,” said Mr. Peterkin, “of Agamemnon, with +his Encyclopædia.” + +Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in +their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A. + +“That would not be impossible,” said Mr. Peterkin. “There is Amanda, who +will wait on table, to start with--” + +“We could have ‘am-and-eggs,” suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was +distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and +impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do +was to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers +as they could. + +They could still apply to the Encyclopædia, even if it were not in +Agamemnon’s alphabetical course. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the +botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. +The study of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the +butter-dish would bring in geology. + +The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the +cream-jug, and they were promised a potter’s wheel directly. + +“You see, my dear,” said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, “before many weeks, +we shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children.” + +Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + +“Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we might begin with botany. That would be +near to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the botany of +butter. On what does the cow feed?” + +The little boys were eager to go out and see. + +“If she eats clover,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall expect the botany of +clover.” + +The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that very +evening they should go out and study the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple breakfast. +The little boys took their note-books and pencils, and clambered upon +the fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + +For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They were +always coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to count them, +and nobody was very sure how many there were. + +There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She looked at +them with large eyes. + +“She won’t eat,” they cried, “while we are looking at her!” + +So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and seated +themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to time, to see +the cow. + +“Now she is nibbling a clover.” + +“No, that is a bit of sorrel.” + +“It’s a whole handful of grass.” + +“What kind of grass?” they exclaimed. + +It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and pretending to +the cow that they were looking into the street, and yet to be looking at +the cow all the time, and finding out what she was eating; and the upper +rail of the fence was narrow and a little sharp. It was very high, +too, for some additional rails had been put on to prevent the cow from +jumping into the garden or street. + +Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw +six legs and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys +disappeared! + +“They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the cow!” + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. Solomon +John and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but stopped, not +knowing what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered herself with a supreme +effort, and sent them out to the rescue. + +But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep the cow +out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the milking had gone +off with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps with the key of the shed +door. Even if that were not locked, before Agamemnon could get round by +the wood-shed and cow-shed, the little boys might be gored through and +through! + +Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the druggist’s for +plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through the dining-room to the +wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. Peterkin mounted the outside of the +fence, while Mrs. + +Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high enough +to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported what he saw. + +They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the +little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving. + +The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his +india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + +Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the +grass, still looking at him. + +Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were +next seen running toward it. + +A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with +Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the +time they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the +arms of their mother! + +“This is too dangerous a form of education,” she cried; “I had rather +they went to school.” + +“No!” they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. + + + + +THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. + +MRS. PETERKIN’S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of +the three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the +educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at +school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon +the subject of education. + +Mrs. Peterkin’s spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys +were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were +arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could +be pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These +were planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently +amused himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + +Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. +Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; +that many who could did not answer questions,--the conductors of the +railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations +on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. + +“Yes,” said Agamemnon, “one might be a conductor without even knowing +the names of the stations, because you can’t understand them when they +do tell them!” + +“I never know,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “whether it is ignorance in them, +or unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one +station is coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so +many times. It would be useful if they would tell.” + +Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in +Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the +place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have +the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the +conductors “to stop at the farthest crossing.” + +Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying +on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no +one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a +breakfast on educational principles. + +A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken +the alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole +alphabet must be represented in one breakfast. + +This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, +Coffee, Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice (on +butter), Jam, Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, Oatmeal, +Pepper, Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Veal-pie, Waffles, +Yeast-biscuit. + +Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. “Excellent!” he cried. “Every +letter represented except Z.” Mrs. Peterkin drew from her pocket a +letter from the lady from Philadelphia. “She thought you would call it +X-cellent for X, and she tells us,” she read, “that if you come with a +zest, you will bring the Z.” + +Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite the +children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a zest, +indeed, it would give to the study of their letters! + +It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + +“How happy,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “that this should come first of +all! A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had mastered +the first letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the more involved +subjects hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc.” + +Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden in +the apple. There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss +independence. The little boys were wild to act William Tell, but Mrs. +Peterkin was afraid of the arrows. Mrs. + +Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, then +discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps first +historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first apple. + +Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the griddles +were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at home on the +marmalade, because the quinces came from grandfather’s, and she had seen +them planted; she remembered all about it, and now the bush came up to +the sitting-room window. + +She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where the +granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite recollected +why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it took you almost +the whole day to stew them, and then you might as well set them on +again. + +Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at grandfather’s. +In order to know thoroughly about apples, they ought to understand the +making of cider. + +Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather’s, scarcely twelve +miles away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should not the family +go this very day up to grandfather’s, and continue the education of the +breakfast? + +“Why not indeed?” exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather’s +would give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard to the +cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, even to +follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + +It was suggested, too, that at grandfather’s they might study the +processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + +Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: they were +both the products of trees--the apple-tree and the maple. Mr. Peterkin +proposed that the lesson for the day should be considered the study of +trees, and on the way they could look at other trees. + +Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the present. +Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely be in a hurry +for dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day before them. + +Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for luncheon. + +But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could hardly +take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as the little +boys did not take up much room. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at +grandfather’s. + +Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object to +staying some days. This would make it easier about coming home, but it +did not settle the difficulty in getting there. + +Why not “Ride and Tie”? + +The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and Agamemnon +and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit +in the carriage, when it was waiting for the pedestrians to come up; or, +she said, she did not object to a little turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin +would start, with Solomon John and the little boys, before the rest, +and Agamemnon should drive his mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first +stopping-place. + +Then came up another question,--of Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk. If she stayed +a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be hot, and it +might be cold. + +Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her heaviest +wraps. + +You never could depend upon the weather. Even “Probabilities” got you no +farther than to-day. + +In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the +expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left the +table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself with +Amanda over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon +went to order the horse and the expressman, and Solomon John and the +little boys prepared themselves for a pedestrian excursion. + +Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so +many things she might want, and then again she might not. She must +put up her music, because her grandfather had a piano; and then she +bethought herself of Agamemnon’s flute, and decided to pick out a volume +or two of the Encyclopædia. But it was hard to decide, all by herself, +whether to take G for griddle-cakes, or M for maple-syrup, or T for +tree. She would take as many as she could make room for. + +She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must take +some French books she had never yet found time to read. This involved +taking her French dictionary, as she doubted if her grandfather had one. +She ought to put in a “Botany,” if they were to study trees; but she +could not tell which, so she would take all there were. She might as +well take all her dresses, and it was no harm if one had too many wraps. +When she had her trunk packed, she found it over-full; it was difficult +to shut it. She had heard Solomon John set out from the front door with +his father and the little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse +at the side door, so there was no use in calling for help. She got upon +the trunk; she jumped upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, +found she could lock it! Yes, it was really locked. + +But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been caught +in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was worse, she was so +fastened to the trunk that she could not lean forward far enough to +turn the key back, to unlock the trunk and release herself! The lock had +slipped easily, but she could not now get hold of the key in the right +way to turn it back. + +She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She +called for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the trunk. But +her door was shut. + +Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the door, +to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, in her +constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she +would have been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her +travelling-dress, and too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. +Alas, she had packed her scissors, and her knife she had lent to the +little boys the day before! She called again. What silence there was in +the house! Her voice seemed to echo through the room. At length, as she +listened, she heard the sound of wheels. + +Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear the +front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to “have the day.” + But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to Amanda, to explain to +her to wait for the expressman. She was to have told her as she went +downstairs. But she had not been able to go downstairs! And Amanda must +have supposed that all the family had left, and she, too, must have +gone, knowing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard +the front door shut! + +But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she had +proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be +picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in +time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,--that she +had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon +discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not +finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed. +She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all +her books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She +tried to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family. +They were good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge. +But suppose they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge, +as they often did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them, +her mother would not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother +should decide to leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping +and waiting for the first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no +one would be left to tell the rest, when they should come up to the +carryall. They might go on so, through the whole journey, without +meeting, and she might not be missed till they should reach her +grandfather’s! + +Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman +would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get +into the house! + +She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut +up in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not +when she should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the +“Mistletoe Bough.” She had been one of the “guests,” who had sung “Oh, +the Mistletoe Bough,” and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the +side-scenes how the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the +trunk then was only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa, +and this was a stern reality. + +It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather’s. +Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy +she was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move +the trunk toward the door. + +In vain. All was still. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why +Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with +Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things +into the carriage,--a basket of lunch, a change of shoes for Mr. +Peterkin, some extra wraps,--everything Mrs. + +Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth Eliza +did not come. “I think she must have walked on with your father,” she +said, at last; “you had better get in.” Agamemnon now got in. “I should +think she would have mentioned it,” she continued; “but we may as well +start on, and pick her up!” + +They started off. “I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to Amanda, +but we must ask her when we come up with her.” + +But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond the +village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting manner against +a tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave missives for each other as +they passed on. This note informed them that the walking party was going +to take the short cut across the meadows, and would still be in front +of them. They saw the party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. +Peterkin was explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as +they stood around a large specimen. + +“I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a ‘Quercus,’” said +Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an +expression, but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of the +party, however, were behind the tree, some were in front, and Elizabeth +Eliza might be behind the tree. They were too far off to be shouted at. +Mrs. Peterkin was calmed, and went on to the stopping-lace agreed upon, +which they reached before long. This had been appointed near Farmer +Gordon’s barn, that there might be somebody at hand whom they knew, in +case there should be any difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had +been that Mrs. Peterkin should always sit in the carriage, while the +others should take turns for walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a +fence, and left her comfortably arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she +had risen so early to prepare for the alphabetical breakfast, and had +since been so tired with preparations, that she was quite sleepy, and +would not object to a nape in the shade, by the soothing sound of the +buzzing of the flies. But she called Agamemnon back, as he started off +for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question: + +“Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated +in the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth +Eliza gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have +expected that she--Mrs. Peterkin--would walk on to the next stopping- +place!” + +She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest +passed her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting cheerfully. +It was a little joggly in the carriage, she had already found, for +the horse was restless from the flies, and she did not like being left +alone. + +She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, but +the sun became hot, and it was not long before she was fatigued. When +they reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to rest upon one of the +hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at the other end of the field, +and they were seated there when the carryall passed them in the road. +Mrs. Peterkin waved parasol and hat, and the party in the carryall +returned their greetings, but they were too far apart to hear each +other. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + +“Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall,” she said, “and +that will explain all.” + +But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent +stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A note +was pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it was +“prime fun.” + +In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. Peterkin +felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the carryall +missed her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a house to rest, and +for a glass of water. + +She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The party +had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided all should +meet at the foot of grandfather’s hill, that they might all arrive at +the house together. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all the +way, as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. Peterkin’s +last walk had been so slow, that the other party was far in advance and +reached the stopping-place before them. The little boys were all rowed +out on the stone fence, awaiting them, full of delight at having reached +grandfather’s. Mr. + +Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. +Peterkin, exclaimed: “Where is Elizabeth Eliza?” Each party looked +eagerly at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be seen. Where was she? +What was to be done? Was she left behind? Mrs. Peterkin was convinced +she must have somehow got to grandfather’s. They hurried up the hill. +Grandfather and all the family came out to greet them, for they had been +seen approaching. There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + +It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin stood +and looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late to send back +for Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + +Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the object +of their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking up and down +the road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were explaining to each other +the details of their journeys, they had discovered some facts. + +“We shall have to go back,” they exclaimed. “We are too late! The +maple-syrup was all made last spring.” + +“We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months,--the cider +is not made till October.” + +The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of neither +maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, perhaps forever! +The sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin still stood to look up and +down the road. + +... Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, as it +seemed for ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of prisoners,--how +they had watched the growth of flowers through cracks in the pavement. +She wondered how long she could live without eating. How thankful she +was for her abundant breakfast! + +At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to +answer it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was +impossible! + +How singular!--there were footsteps. Some one was going to the door; some +one had opened it. “They must be burglars.” Well, perhaps that was a +better fate--to be gagged by burglars, and the neighbors informed--than +to be forever locked on her trunk. The steps approached the door. It +opened, and Amanda ushered in the expressman. + +Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the +breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she must +receive. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the key +of her trunk, and she was released! + +What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had given up +all hope of her family returning for her. But how could she reach them? + +She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until she +should come up with some of the family. At least she would fall in with +either the walking party or the carryall, or she would meet them if they +were on their return. + +She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took their +way, stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + +But much to Elizabeth Eliza’s dismay, they turned off from the main road +on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver insisted he +must go round by Millikin’s to leave a bedstead. They went round +by Millikin’s, and then had further turns to make. Elizabeth Eliza +explained that in this way it would be impossible for her to find her +parents and family, and at last he proposed to take her all the way with +her trunk. She remembered with a shudder that when she had first asked +about her trunk, he had promised it should certainly be delivered the +next morning. Suppose they should have to be out all night? Where did +express-carts spend the night? She thought of herself in a lone wood, +in an express-wagon! She could hardly bring herself to ask, before +assenting, when he should arrive. + +“He guessed he could bring up before night.” + +And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset +were looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about the lost +Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. A female form +sat upon the front seat. + +“She has decided to come by express,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “It is--it +is--Elizabeth Eliza!” + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN BOSTON. + +THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about the carnival +of authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was announced, their +interests were excited, and they determined that all the family should +go. + +But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they supposed +that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza thought their +lessons in the foreign languages would help them much in conversing in +character. + +As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there would be +time to read up everything written by all the authors, in order to be +acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. Peterkin did not +wish to begin too early upon the reading, for she was sure she should +forget all that the different authors had written before the day came. + +But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time enough, +as it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had given up her +French lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and had, indeed, +concluded she had learned in them all she should need to know of that +language. She could repeat one or two pages of phrases, and she was +astonished to find how much she could understand already of what the +French teacher said to her; and he assured her that when she went to +Paris she could at least ask the price of gloves, or of some other +things she would need, and he taught her, too, how to pronounce +“garçon,” in calling for more. + +Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might make +themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys were already +acquainted with “Mother Goose.” Mr. Peterkin had read the “Pickwick +Papers,” and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Longfellow getting into +a horse-car. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give lectures +upon the “Arabian Nights.” Everybody else was planning something of the +sort, to “raise funds” for some purpose, and she was sure they ought not +to be behindhand. Mrs. + +Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise +funds enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they +could go every night. + +Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the funds +for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds enough they +might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and take the carnival +comfortably. + +But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were authors, and +only authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had once started upon +writing a book, but he was not able to think of anything to put in it, +and nothing had occurred to him yet. + +Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could come +out before the carnival he could go as an author, and might have a booth +of his own, and take his family. + +But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an author. You +might indeed publish something, but you had to make sure that it would +be read. Mrs. + +Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled with +books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For herself, +she had not read half the books in their own library. And she was glad +there was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might know who they +were. + +Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a “Carnival”; but +he supposed they should find out when they went to it. + +Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed looking +over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some suitable +dresses there, and these would suggest what characters they should take. +Elizabeth Eliza was pleased with this thought. She remembered an old +turban of white mull muslin, in an old bandbox, and why should not her +mother wear it? + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own grandmother. + +Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the East, and +Mrs. + +Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John thought she +might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. Among the treasures +found were some old bonnets, of large size, with waving plumes. +Elizabeth Eliza decided upon the largest of these. + +She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John was to take +the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was planning to enter +upon the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was a little afraid of +sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great while finding the shore. + +Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a +coal-hod that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher Columbus +was born in Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian he had lately +learned of his teacher. + +As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + +Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a happy +thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would come in play, +and he was quite sure that his own family name made him kin to that of +the great Czar. He studied up the life in the Encyclopædia, and decided +to take the costume of a ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and +some of the docks; but none of them gave him the true idea of dress for +ship-building in Holland or St. Petersburg. + +But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a +broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a costumer’s, +and with Elizabeth Eliza’s black waterproof was satisfied with his own +appearance. + +Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in some +Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large bonnet, but she +had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs on their heads, and +she might wear her own muff. + +Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of false +curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed over her +black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much like the +picture of their great-grandmother. But doubtless Cleopatra resembled +this picture, as it was all so long ago, so the rest of the family +decided. + +Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as represented in one +of the little boys’ arks, was simple. His father’s red-lined dressing +gown, turned inside out, permitted it easily. + +Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a long dress +of yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the little boys. For +the little boys were to represent two doves and a raven. There were +feather-dusters enough in the family for their costumes, which would be +then complete with their india-rubber boots. + +Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher Columbus. +He had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his pocket, proposing to +repeat, through the evening, the scene of setting the egg on its end. +He gave up the plan of a boat, as it must be difficult to carry one into +town; so he contented himself by practising the motion of landing by +stepping up on a chair. + +But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, as +Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if it were +not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to take an ark +into town as Solomon John’s boat. + +The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the hall +late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as they +stopped at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found themselves +entangled with a number of people in costume coming out from a +dressing-room below. Mr. Peterkin was much encouraged. They were thus +joining the performers. The band was playing the “Wedding March” as they +went upstairs to a door of the hall which opened upon one side of the +stage. Here a procession was marching up the steps of the stage, all in +costume, and entering behind the scenes. + +“We are just in the right time,” whispered Mr. Peterkin to his family; +“they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line.” The little boys +had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from one of the managers +made Peterkin understand the situation. + +“We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens,” he said. + +“I thought he was dead!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + +“Authors live forever!” said Agamemnon in her ear. + +At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage manager +glared at them, as he awaited their names for introduction, while they +came up all unannounced,--a part of the programme not expected. But he +uttered the words upon his lips, “Great Expectations;” and the Peterkin +family swept across the stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as +Peter the Great, Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon +John as Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. +Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. Columbus, +and the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + +Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then following +the rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the audience, they +went; but into an audience not dressed in costume! + +There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,--all the neighbors,--all +as natural as though they were walking the streets at home, though Ann +Maria did wear white gloves. + +“I had no idea you were to appear in character,” said Ann Maria to +Elizabeth Eliza; “to what booth do you belong?” + +“We are no particular author,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“Ah, I see, a sort of varieties’ booth,” said Mr. Osborne. + +“What is your character?” asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + +“I have not quite decided,” said Elizabeth Eliza. “I thought I should +find out after I came here. The marshal called us ‘Great Expectations.’” + +Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. “I have shaken hands with +Dickens!” she exclaimed. + +But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken +hands with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + +They had been swept off in Mother Goose’s train, which had lingered on +the steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the procession of +characters in costume had closed. At this moment they were dancing +round the barberry bush, in a corner of the balcony in Mother Goose’s +quarters, their feather-dusters gayly waving in the air. + +But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled herself +with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the grand closing +tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which swept her hither and +thither. At last she found herself in the Whittier Booth, and sat a long +time calmly there. As Cleopatra she seemed out of place, but as her own +grandmother she answered well with its New England scenery. + +Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he found a +chance to enter a booth. Once before an admiring audience he set up his +egg in the centre of the Goethe Booth, which had been deserted by its +committee for the larger stage. + +Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the Arabian +Nights. + +It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going +on the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups +represented there. + +Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the “Dream of Fair Women,” at its +most culminating point. + +Mr. Peterkin found himself with the “Cricket on the Hearth,” in the +Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but always in +the Russian language, which was never understood. + +Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every manager +was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to some other, and she +passed along, always trying to explain that she had not yet decided upon +her character. + +Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + +“I cannot understand,” he said, “why none of our friends are dressed in +costume, and why we are.” + +“I rather like it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “though I should be better +pleased if I could form a group with some one.” + +The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join the +performers. It was the dance of her youth. + +But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led to the +stage. + +“I cannot understand this company,” he said, distractedly. + +“They cannot find their booth,” said another. + +“That is the case,” said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + +“Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor,” said a polite marshal. + +They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the +refreshment-room. + +“This is the booth for us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“Indeed it is,” said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + +At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,--the little boys, who had +been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose’s establishment, and now came down +for ice-cream. + +“I hardly know how to sit down,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for I am sure +Mrs. Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. Shem, I will +venture it.” + +Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon arranged in +a row, calmly eating ice-cream. + +“I think the truth is,” said Mr. Peterkin, “that we represent historical +people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters in books. That +is, I observe, what the others are. We shall know better another time.” + +“If we only ever get home,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “I shall not wish to +come again. It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it +is so bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going +round and round in this way.” + +“I am afraid we shall never reach home,” said Agamemnon, who had been +silent for some time; “we may have to spend the night here. I find I +have lost our checks for our clothes in the cloak-room!” + +“Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra’s turban!” exclaimed Mrs. +Peterkin. + +“We should like to come every night,” cried the little boys. + +“But to spend the night,” repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + +“I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night,” said Mr. Peterkin. + +“But never to recover our cloaks,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “could not the +little boys look round for the checks on the floors?” + +She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might never +see again. + +She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,--her grandmother’s,--that +Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have made into a foot-rug. Now +how she wished she had! And there were Mr. Peterkin’s new overshoes, +and Agamemnon had brought an umbrella, and the little boys had their +mittens. Their india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the +character of birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth +Eliza a muff. Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home +in the cold without them? No, it would be better to wait till everybody +had gone, and then look carefully over the floors for the checks; if +only the little boys could know where Agamemnon had been, they were +willing to look. Mr. Peterkin was not sure as they would have time to +reach the train. + +Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the +time. He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and he +thought it would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear it. + +At this moment the strains of “Home, Sweet Home” were heard from the +band, and people were seen preparing to go. + +“All can go home, but we must stay,” said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, as +the well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + +A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at them, +whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + +“Can we do anything for you?” asked one at last. “Would you not like to +go?” He seemed eager they should leave the room. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the +checks for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor when +everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not describe +what they had worn, in which case the loss of the checks was not so +important, as the crowds had now almost left, and it would not be +difficult to identify their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin eagerly declared she +could describe every article. + +It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the quickly +deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their garments! Mrs. +Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness of the marshals; she +feared they had some pretext for getting the family out of the hall. +Mrs. Peterkin was one of those who never consent to be forced to +anything. She would not be compelled to go home, even with strains of +music. She whispered her suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came +hastily up to announce the time, which he had learned from the clock +in the large hall. They must leave directly if they wished to catch the +latest train, as there was barely time to reach it. + +Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss the +train! + +If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She +was the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed her, +just in time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + +The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of their +friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so they had +many questions put to them which they were unable to answer. Still Mrs. +Peterkin’s turban was much admired, and indeed the whole appearance +of the family; so that they felt themselves much repaid for their +exertions. + +But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their +friends; but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, they +walked very slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys were sent +on with the pass-key to open the door. They soon returned with the +startling intelligence that it was not the right key, and they could not +get in. It was Mr. Peterkin’s office-key; he had taken it by mistake, or +he might have dropped the house-key in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + +“Must we go back?” sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. More +than ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon’s invention in keys +had failed to secure a patent! + +It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been allowed to +go and spend the night with a friend, so there was no use in ringing, +though the little boys had tried it. + +“We can return to the station,” said Mr. Peterkin; “the rooms will be +warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think what we +shall do next.” + +At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the New +York midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the train went +through at half-past. + +“I saw lights at the locksmith’s over the way, as I passed,” he said; +“why do not you send over to the young man there? He can get your door +open for you. I never would spend the night here.” + +Solomon John went over to “the young man,” who agreed to go up to the +house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open the door, +and come back to them on his way home. Solomon John came back to the +station, for it was now cold and windy in the deserted streets. The +family made themselves as comfortable as possible by the stove, sending +Solomon John out occasionally to look for the young man. But somehow +Solomon John missed him; the lights were out in the locksmith’s shop, so +he followed along to the house, hoping to find him there. + +But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young man had +opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and Agamemnon went back +together, but they could not get in. Where was the young man? He had +lately come to town, and nobody knew where he lived, for on the return +of Solomon John and Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of +the young man. The night was wearing on. + +The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came and went +looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her turban, as she sat +by the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last the station-master +had to leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to lock up the station, +but he promised to return at an early hour to release them. + +“Of what use,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “if we cannot even then get into +our own house?” + +Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had left +town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and helped himself to +spoons, and left. + +Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. +Solomon John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only ventured to +whisper his suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse Mrs. Peterkin, who +still was nodding in the corner of the long bench. + +Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; +perhaps by some effort in the early daylight they might make an +entrance. + +On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his beat. +He stopped when he saw the family. + +“Ah! that accounts,” he said; “you were all out last night, and the +burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a lively +young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had been a +minute late he would have made his way in”--The family then tried to +interrupt--to explain--“Where is he?” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. + +“Safe in the lock-up,” answered the policeman. + +“But he is the locksmith!” interrupted Solomon John. + +“We have no key!” said Elizabeth Eliza; “if you have locked up the +locksmith we can never get in.” + +The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he +understood the case. + +“The locksmith!” he exclaimed; “he is a new fellow, and I did not +recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, +that he may let you in!” and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin +family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + +“It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him,” said Mr. +Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the +house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he +appear so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in +the closet of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, +and, almost as soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released +locksmith, and a few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. + +The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the +policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, +pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the +family could go in. + +Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. +Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. “I shall never go to another +carnival!” she exclaimed. + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. + +YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and +deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly +postponed. + +But here they were at last, at the “Old Farm,” so called, where seaside +attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they +were to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of +Ann Maria Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them +there, though she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very +next day. + +Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole +thing had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be +sure, had not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, +wonderful to tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. + +Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and +the volumes of the Encyclopædia that might tell him how to manage it, +and Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used +their india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and +carrying one in each hand,--a very convenient way for travelling they +considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their +boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat +inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room +enough could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted +to them. + +There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and camera. +Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of the machine +going off; so an out-house was found for them, where Agamemnon and +Solomon John could arrange them. + +Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and +low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little stuffy at +first. + +Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the farm +was evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he gave himself +to examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and the fields and +vegetable gardens, which were shown to him by a highly intelligent +person, a Mr. Atwood, who devoted himself to explaining to Mr. Peterkin +all the details of methods in the farming. + +The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, when +they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach the beach. +The advertisements had surely stated that the “Old Farm” was directly on +the shore, and that sea-bathing would be exceedingly convenient; which +was hardly the case if it took you an hour and a half to walk to it. + +Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies between the +advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; but he was more +than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to remain and admire it, +while the rest of the family went to find the beach, starting off in a +wagon large enough to accommodate them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + +Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the family in +a row on the beach; but he decided not to take his camera out the first +afternoon. + +This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached the +beach. + +“If this wagon were not so shaky,” said Mrs. Peterkin “we might drive +over every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, and I +suppose Agamemnon can turn on the beach.” + +“We should have to spend the whole day about it,” said Solomon John, in +a discouraged tone, “unless we can have a quicker horse.” + +“Perhaps we should prefer that,” said Elizabeth Eliza, a little +gloomily, “to staying at the house.” + +She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant and +fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was disappointed that +the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would understand the ways of the +place. Yet, again, she was somewhat relieved, for if their trunks did +not come till the next day, as was feared, she should have nothing but +her travelling dress to wear, which would certainly answer for to-night. + +She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses for +this very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would hardly need +them, and was disappointed to have no chance to display them. But of +course, when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria came, all would be different; +but they would surely be wasted on the two old ladies she had seen, and +on the old men who had lounged about the porch; there surely was not a +gentleman among them. + +Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as gentlemen +wore their exercise dress, and took a pride in going around in shocking +hats and flannel suits. Doubtless they would be dressed for dinner on +their return. + +On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals by +themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating dinner or +lunch. There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, that might come +under either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were well pleased. + +“I had no idea we should have really farm-fare,” Mrs. Peterkin said. “I +have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young.” + +Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first meal, as +evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in spite of the +numerous letters that had been exchanged. + +The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment of +their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining to go +to the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and horses; and all +the way over to the beach the other little boys were hopping in and out +of the wagon, which never went too fast, to pick long mullein-stalks, +for whips to urge on the reluctant horse with, or to gather +huckleberries, with which they were rejoiced to find the fields were +filled, although, as yet, the berries were very green. + +They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; +but Mrs. + +Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it +was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + +On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the +same old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. + +“A little seedy, I should say,” said Solomon John. + +“Smoking pipes,” said Agamemnon; “I believe that is the latest style.” + +“The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable,” Mrs. Peterkin was +forced to say. + +There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where they were +to be put, and as to their meals. + +Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, who +were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them was +very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered from +a moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort of +factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of +invalids to appear. + +“Regular bed-ridden,” Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza +did not consider respectful. + +Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the +house, very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it in +admirable order. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and +ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and +tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted +that it was to be “tea,” and if they were unused to a late dinner they +might be disturbed if they had only provided a “tea.” + +So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised when +Martha replied, “The lady must say,” nodding to Mrs. Peterkin. “She can +have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!” + +This was an unexpected courtesy. + +Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + +“Oh, they took it a long time ago,” Martha answered. “If the lady will +go out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants.” + +“Bring us in what you have,” said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry. +“If you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well.” + +“Perhaps some eggs,” murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + +“Scrambled,” cried one of the little boys. + +“Fried potatoes would not be bad,” suggested Agamemnon. + +“Couldn’t we have some onions?” asked the little boy who had stayed +at home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their +supper. + +“A pie would come in well,” said Solomon John. + +“And some stewed cherries,” said the other little boy. + +Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, when, +in the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended appeared. +Their appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food the same. + +“This is true Arab hospitality,” said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his juicy +beefsteak. + +“I know it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. “We have +not even seen the host and hostess.” + +She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her when the +Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room was in +the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the aged deaf +and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by perplexed +thoughts. + +She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances, would +have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or the +Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to? She +fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both +parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any use +in sending to the Sylvesters’ usual address, which she knew well by this +time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would +know they had not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + +She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. +Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where people were +going to, and where to send their letters. She might, at least, write +two letters, to say that they--the Peterkins--had arrived, and were +disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she could add that their +trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their friends might look out for +them on their way. It really seemed a good plan to write. Yet +another question came up, as to how she would get her letters to the +post-office, as she had already learned it was at quite a distance, and +in a different direction from the station, where they were to send the +next day for their trunks. + +She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the coughing +and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin partition. + +She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by the +morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of fowl. + +Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and +declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + +They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach +only in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was +appointed at noon. + +Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. “Such a straight road, and the beach +such a safe place to turn round upon!” + +Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the +station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably +left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been +switched off upon one of the White Mountain trains. There was no use to +write any letters, as there was no way to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now +almost hoped the Sylvesters would not come, for what should she do if +the trunks did not come and all her new dresses? On her way over to the +beach she had been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and +cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their time +was spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she would +prefer that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses and the +trunks did. All she could find out, from inquiry, on returning, +was, “that another lot was expected on Saturday.” The next day she +suggested:--“Suppose we take our dinner with us to the beach, and spend +the day.” The Sylvesters and Ann Maria then would find them on the +beach, where her travelling-dress would be quite appropriate. “I am a +little tired,” she added, “of going back and forward over the same road; +but when the rest come we can vary it.” + +The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys remained to +go over the farm again. + +They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a ledge +of sand. + +They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of people +approaching from the other end of the beach. + +“I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last,” said Elizabeth +Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + +As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria Bromwick! And with +her were the Sylvesters,--so they proved to be, for she had never seen +them before. + +“What! you have come in our absence!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +“And we have been wondering what had become of you!” cried Ann Maria. + +“I thought you would be at the farm before us,” said Elizabeth Eliza to +Mr. + +Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + +“We have been looking for you at the farm,” he was saying to her. + +“But we are at the farm,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“And so are we!” said Ann Maria. + +“We have been there two days,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + +“And so have we, at the ‘Old Farm,’ just at the end of the beach,” said +Ann Maria. + +“Our farm is old enough,” said Solomon John. + +“Whereabouts are you?” asked Mr. Sylvester. + +Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + +A smile came over Mr. Sylvester’s face; he knew the country well. + +“You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?” he +asked. + +The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + +Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over the +faces of all the party. + +“Why, that is the Poor-house!” she exclaimed. + +“The town farm,” Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + +The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to +laugh. + +“There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women there!” said +Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + +“But we have surely been made very comfortable,” Mrs. Peterkin declared. + +“A very simple mistake,” said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his amusement. +“Your trunks arrived all right at the ‘Old Farm,’ two days ago.” + +“Let us go back directly,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + +“As directly as our horse will allow,” said Agamemnon. + +Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. “Your rooms are awaiting you,” + he said. “Why not come with us?” + +“We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else,” said Mrs. +Peterkin. + +They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Do you suppose +they took us for paupers?” + +“We have not seen any ‘they,’” said Solomon John, “except Mr. Atwood.” + +At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + +“I have been looking for you,” he said. “I have just made a discovery.” + +“We have made it, too,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “we are in the +poor-house.” + +“How did you find it out?” Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + +“Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been brought to +him from the station, which he ought to have got two days ago. It came +from a Mr. Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his +wife and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to +say he cannot come till Friday. Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the +Peterses, whom he had sent for the day we arrived, not having received +this telegram.” + +“Oh, I see, I see!” said Mrs. Peterkin; “and we did get into a muddle at +the station!” + +Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. “I beg pardon,” he said. “I hope you +have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you stay till +Mr. Peters’ family comes.” + +At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with an +open wagon, to take the Peterkins to the “Old Farm.” + +Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, “Beg +pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and putting you +in that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to take you off every +day with the other gentlemen, that looked so wandering.” + +Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + +Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till +Friday. But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave with Mr. +Sylvester, and to take their electrical machine and camera when they +came for Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened once more +by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. There was not much +packing to be done. She shouted good-by into the ears of the deaf old +lady, and waved her hand to the foreign one, and glad to bid farewell to +the old men with their pipes, leaning against the porch. + +“This time,” she said, “it is not our trunks that were lost” + +“But we, as a family,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Peterkin Papers + +Author: Lucretia P. Hale + +Release Date: October, 2001 [Etext #3028] +Posting Date: October 27, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed + + + + + +THE PETERKIN PAPERS + +By Lucretia P. Hale + + +Mrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee. + +Dedicated + +To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) + +To Whom These Stories Were First Told + + + + +Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + +THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for +the "Young Folks." They were afterwards continued in numbers of the "St. +Nicholas." + +A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never +before been published, "The Peterkins at the Farm." + +It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about +publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter +to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she might +happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her. + +Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, and +everybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, and +help it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and all +her servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take so +long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could they +get the whole subject on a postal? + +Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but one +question:-- + +Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + +This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family to +sign, the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of their +india-rubber boots. + +Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to the +post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day, +and all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers on +postals and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady from +Philadelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been read +by their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it must +have been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals and +letters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in the +same tone: "Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family." + +"Publish them, of course." + +And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:--"Yes, of +course; publish them." + +This is why they were published. + + + + +THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. + +THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious +cup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found +she had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? +Of course she couldn't drink the coffee; so she called in the family, +for she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in; +they all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and all +sat down to think. + +At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, "Why don't we go over +and ask the advice of the chemist?" (For the chemist lived over the +way, and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, "Yes," and Mr. +Peterkin said, "Very well," and all the children said they would go too. +So the little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went. + +Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turn +everything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle into +which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuable +things, and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost found +what he wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now he +had used up all the gold that he had round the house, and gold was +high. He had used up his wife's gold thimble and his great-grandfather's +gold-bowed spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of his +great-great-grandfather's cane; and, just as the Peterkin family came +in, he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him have +her wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knew +he should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; and +then she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeralds +and rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into the +finest of gold. + +Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in. +You can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing his +crucible--that was the name of his melting-pot--at their heads. But he +didn't. He listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs. +Peterkin had put salt in her coffee. + +At first he said he couldn't do anything about it; but when Agamemnon +said they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up his +bottles in a leather case, and went back with them all. + +First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a +little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it +tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. +But Mrs. Peterkin didn't like that. Then he added some tartaric acid +and some hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. "I have it!" +exclaimed the chemist,--"a little ammonia is just the thing!" No, it +wasn't the thing at all. + +Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric, +chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic, +nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and said +the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then he +tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clear +bitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. +This gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs. + +Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist +was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some +granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing +off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not +satisfied. + +The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the +salt. The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed. +Perhaps a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all +the time he could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all +much obliged to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold +was now 2.69 3/4, so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave +Agamemnon a pretty little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there +was the coffee! All sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, +"Why don't we go to the herb-woman?" Elizabeth Eliza was the only +daughter. She was named after her two aunts,--Elizabeth, from the sister +of her father; Eliza, from her mother's sister. Now, the herb-woman was +an old woman who came round to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They +all shouted with joy at the idea of asking her, and Solomon John and +the younger children agreed to go and find her too. The herb-woman +lived down at the very end of the street; so the boys put on their +india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It was a long walk through +the village, but they came at last to the herb-woman's house, at the +foot of a high hill. They went through her little garden. Here she had +marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and tall sunflowers, and all +kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air was full of tansy-tea +and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and a brandy-cherry +tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung its delicious +fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, which smelt very +spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and peppermint, and +all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the ceiling; and on the +shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the like. + +But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to +get some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow +her,--Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to +climb up over high rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black +berry-vines. But the little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last +they discovered the little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was +steeple-crowned, without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel +round a sassafras bush. They told her their story,---how their mother had +put salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead +of better, and how their mother couldn't drink it, and wouldn't she +come and see what she could do? And she said she would, and took up her +little old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with everlasting +and pennyroyal, and went back to her house. + +There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all the +kinds of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seed +and dill, spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil and +rosemary, wild thyme and some of the other time,---such as you have in +clocks,--sappermint and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, +there isn't a kind of herb you can think of that the little old woman +didn't have done up in her little paper bags, that had all been dried in +her little Dutch-oven. She packed these all up, and then went back with +the children, taking her stick. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee. + +As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, and +began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop for +the bitter. Mrs. + +Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then +she tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, and +some caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoram +and sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint and +peppermint, some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, some +tansy and basil, and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, and +pennyroyal. The children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadful +faces. Mrs. Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old woman +stirred, and the more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + +So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and said +she must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up her +packets of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick, +and went back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in the +air and half out. And all she would take for pay was five cents in +currency. + +Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while. +It was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn't had her cup +of coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, "They say that the lady from +Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and ask +her what is best to be done." To this they all agreed, it was a great +thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + +She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,--how her mother had +put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he tried +everything but could make it no better; and how they went for the little +old herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother couldn't +drink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very attentively, +and then said, "Why doesn't your mother make a fresh cup of coffee?" +Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise. + +Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finished +his sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. "Why didn't we +think of that?" said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to their +mother, and she had her cup of coffee. + + + + +ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA'S PIANO. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of +the postmaster's daughter. + +They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and +the carters brought it in, and went away. + +After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but +they found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the +middle of the room, standing close against the window. + +How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play +upon it? + +Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which Agamemnon +could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon +the piazza, and open the piano. Then she could have her music-stool on +the piazza, and play upon the piano there. + +So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to +see Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the piazza, +with the honeysuckle vines behind her. + +It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked to +take a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family liked to +sit on the piazza. + +So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + +All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall came, +Mr. Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open window, and the +family did not want to sit out on the piazza. + +Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was +obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so. + +One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, she spoke +of this trouble. + +The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, "But why +don't you turn the piano round?" + +One of the little boys pertly said, "It is a square piano." + +But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of Agamemnon +and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + +"Why did we not think of that before?" said Mrs. Peterkin. "What shall +we do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?" + + + + +THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. + +THEY were sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they +should do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. "If," said +Mrs. Peterkin, "we could only be more wise as a family!" How could they +manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the children all went to +school; but still as a family they were not wise. "It comes from books," +said one of the family. "People who have a great many books are very +wise." Then they counted up that there were very few books in the +house,--a few school-books and Mrs. Peterkin's cook-book were all. + +"That's the thing!" said Agamemnon. "We want a library." + +"We want a library!" said Solomon John. And all of them exclaimed, "We +want a library!" + +"Let us think how we shall get one," said Mrs. Peterkin. "I have +observed that other people think a great deal of thinking." + +So they all sat and thought a great while. + +Then said Agamemnon, "I will make a library. There are some boards in +the wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails, and perhaps we can +borrow some hinges, and there we have our library!" + +They were all very much pleased at the idea. + +"That's the book-case part," said Elizabeth Eliza; "but where are the +books?" + +So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, "I +will make a book!" + +They all looked at him in wonder. + +"Yes," said Solomon John, "books will make us wise, but first I must +make a book." + +So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But there was +no ink. + +What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that +nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make some. +The little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the woods. +So they all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins put on her +cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and +off they went. + +The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else in the +woods,--chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a great many +squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they found any +nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket and two nutgalls +in it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. Peterkin had used her +very last on some beets they had the day before. "Suppose we go and +ask the minister's wife," said Elizabeth Eliza. So they all went to +the minister's wife. She said if they wanted some good vinegar they had +better set a barrel of cider down in the cellar, and in a year or two +it would make very nice vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very +afternoon. When the minister's wife heard this, she said she should be +very glad to let them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry +home. + +So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they had +very good ink. + +Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, but Solomon +John said, "Poets always used quills." Elizabeth Eliza suggested that +they should go out to the poultry-yard and get a quill. But it was +already dark. They had, however, two lanterns, and the little +boys borrowed the neighbors'. They set out in procession for the +poultry-yard. When they got there, the fowls were all at roost, so they +could look at them quietly. + + + + +SOLOMON JOHN'S BOOK. + +But there were no geese! There were Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and +Guinea hens, and Barbary hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, +and bantams, and ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! "No geese but +ourselves," said Mrs. Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. +The sight of this procession roused up the village. "A torchlight +procession!" cried all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the +house, shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, +and give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them +that it was only his family visiting his hens. + +After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of his +writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore to get a +quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was just shutting up +his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and +they hurried home. + +So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And now the +bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the mail was about +in, and perhaps he should have a letter, and then they could use the +envelope to write upon. So they all went to the post-office, and the +little boys had their india-rubber boots on, and they all shouted when +they found Mr. Peterkin had a letter. The postmaster inquired what +they were shouting about; and when they told him, he said he would give +Solomon John a whole sheet of paper for his book. And they all went back +rejoicing. + +So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table looking +at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped his pen into +the ink and held it over the paper, and thought a minute, and then said, +"But I haven't got anything to say." + + + + +MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. + +ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been +having a great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, "I +believe I shall take a ride this morning!" + +And the little boys cried out, "Oh, may we go too?" + +Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + +So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and +Agamemnon went off to their business, and Solomon John to school; and +Mrs. Peterkin began to get ready for her ride. + +She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, and some +gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza wanted to pick some +flowers to take to the minister's wife, so it took them a long time to +prepare. + +The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, and +Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin put on her +cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little boys were in +their india-rubber boots, and they got into the carriage. + +Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took up +the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly stopped, +and would not go any farther. + +Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she clucked +to the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little boys whistled +and shouted; but still the horse would not go. + +"We shall have to whip him," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse would +not go, she said she would get out and turn her head the other way, +while Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he began to go she +would hurry and get in. + +So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + +"Perhaps we have too heavy a load," said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got in. + +So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, but +still the horse would not go. + +One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just then, +called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, and they +could not hear exactly what she said. + +"I have tried the whip," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"She says 'whips,' such as you eat," said one of the little boys. + +"We might make those," said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + +"We have got plenty of cream," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Yes, let us have some whips," cried the little boys, getting out. + +And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and the wind +was very high. + +So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and made some +very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all round, and they all +thought they were very nice. + +They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very quickly. + +"That is just what he wanted," said Mrs. Peterkin; "now he will +certainly go!" + +So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and the +gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and +they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + +"We must either give up our ride," said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, "or +else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she will +say." + +The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were eager to +go and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza went with them, +while her mother took the reins. + +They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, and +was in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, she very +kindly said they might draw up the curtain from the window at the foot +of the bed, and open the blinds, and she would see. Then she asked for +her opera-glass, and looked through it, across the way, up the street, +to Mrs. Peterkin's door. + +After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned her +head back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then said, +"Why don't you unchain the horse from the horse-post?" + +Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then +hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was untied, +and they all went to ride. + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. + +ANOTHER little incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at +dinner-time. + +They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of the +children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half liked +lean. Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham turned out to +be a very remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate +slices,--first one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, +and so on. Mr. Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, +according to their age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; +and Elizabeth Eliza, who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, +who could eat nothing but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had +what he could eat. + +It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the +vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children saw +upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet potato and +sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because not one was +satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat +and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they looked up and saw +the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into +their plates. + +"What is the matter now?" said Mr. Peterkin. + +But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, however, +made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her lean, and +so on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty. + +"What shall be done now?" said Mrs. Peterkin. + +They all sat and thought for a little while. + +At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, "Suppose we ask the lady +from Philadelphia what is best to be done." + +But Mr. Peterkin said he didn't like to go to her for everything; let +the children try and eat their dinner as it was. + +And they all tried, but they couldn't. "Very well, then." said Mr. +Peterkin, "let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia." + +"All of us?" cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the +moment. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin, "only put on your india-rubber boots." +And they hurried out of the house. + +The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she +kindly stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon +and Elizabeth Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from +Philadelphia said, "But why don't you give the slices of fat to those +who like the fat, and the slices of lean to those who like the lean?" + +They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza, and +Solomon John looked at the little boys. "Why didn't we think of that?" +said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + + + + +WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. + +THE trouble was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the +dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up +from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she +could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach +it. All the family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in +vain; the dinner could not be stirred. + +"No dinner!" exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"I am quite hungry," said Solomon John. + +At last Mr. Peterkin said, "I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the +kitchen." + +This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one +went down, taking a napkin. + +The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the +family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but she +could not move it down. + +The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between +the kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it! + +"What is there for dinner?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"Roast turkey," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + +"Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato," Mrs. Peterkin continued. + +"Sweet potato!" exclaimed both the little boys. + +"I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry," said Mrs. Peterkin, +anxious to find a bright point. + +"Let us sit down and think about it," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"I have an idea," said Agamemnon, after a while. + +"Let us hear it," said Mr. Peterkin. "Let each one speak his mind." + +"The turkey," said Agamemnon, "must be just above the kitchen door. If I +had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach it." + +"That is a great idea," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"If you think you could do it," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Would it not be better to have a carpenter?" asked Elizabeth Eliza. + +"A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have +neither," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"A carpenter! A carpenter!" exclaimed the rest. + +It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys +should go in search of a carpenter. + +Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a book; for +he had another idea. + +"This affair of the turkey," he said, "reminds me of those buried cities +that have been dug out,--Herculaneum, for instance." + +"Oh, yes," interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, "and Pompeii." + +"Yes," said Agamemnon, "they found there pots and kettles. Now, +I should like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a book and +read. I think it was done with a pickaxe." + +So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter's +shop, there was no carpenter to be found there. + +"He must be at his house, eating his dinner," suggested Solomon John. + +"Happy man," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, "he has a dinner to eat!" + +They went to the carpenter's house, but found he had gone out of town +for a day's job. But his wife told them that he always came back at +night to ring the nine-o'clock bell. + +"We must wait till then," said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at +cheerfulness. + +At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down to hear of +Herculaneum and Pompeii. + +Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to have +tea when they had had no dinner? A part of the family thought it would +not do; the rest wanted tea. + +"I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was here not +long ago," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Let us try to think what she would advise us," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"I wish she were here," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"I think," said Mr. Peterkin, "she would say, let them that want tea +have it; the rest can go without." + +So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much was +eaten, as there had been no dinner. + +When the nine-o'clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon John, and the +little boys rushed to the church, and found the carpenter. + +They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it might +be a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + +When the matter was explained to him, he went into the dining-room, +looked into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and arranged the weight, +and pulled up the dinner. + +There was a family shout. + +"The trouble was in the weight," said the carpenter. + +"That is why it is called a dumb-waiter," Solomon John explained to the +little boys. + +The dinner was put upon the table. + +Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for the +next day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + +But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda warmed +over the vegetables. + +"Patient waiters are no losers," said Agamemnon. + + + + +THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY. + +IN fact, it was their last summer's journey--for it had been planned +then; but there had been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + +The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a trunk +suitable for travelling. + +Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a week at a +time at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for Elizabeth Eliza +when she went to the seminary. Solomon John and Mr. Peterkin, each +had his patent-leather hand-bag. But all these were too small for the +family. And the little boys wanted to carry their kite. + +Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother's trunk. This was a hair-trunk, +very large and capacious. It would hold everything they would want to +carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza's trunk, or the valise +and bags. + +Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next day +the things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin's room, for her to see +if they could all be packed. + +"If we can get along," said Elizabeth Eliza, "without having to ask +advice, I shall be glad!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "It is time now for people to be coming to ask +advice of us." + +The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things that were +already in the trunk. Here were last year's winter things, and not +only these, but old clothes that had been put away,--Mrs. Peterkin's +wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear before they put +on jackets and trousers. + +All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old +things, putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could +think of, both summer and winter ones, because you never can tell what +sort of weather you will have. + +Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. There were +her own and Elizabeth Eliza's best bonnets in a bandbox; also Solomon +John's hats, for he had an old one and a new one. He bought a new hat +for fishing, with a very wide brim and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + +Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas still +larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + +"I have never had a chance to look at them," he said; "but when one +travels, then is the time to study geography." + +Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin packed +his tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her just as +she had packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it would help to +smooth the dresses, and placed it on top; but she was forced to take all +out, and set it at the bottom. This was not so much matter, as she had +not yet the right dresses to put in. Both Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth +Eliza would need new dresses for this occasion. The little boys' hoops +went in; so did their india-rubber boots, in case it should not rain +when they started. They each had a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, +that were packed. + +Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second day +to see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even the little +boys' kite lay smoothly on the top. + +"I like to see a thing so nicely done," said Mr. Peterkin. + +The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to move +it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John could lift it alone, +or all together. + +Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of it. + +"Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things." + +"But we did not plan expressing it," said Mrs. Peterkin, in a +discouraged tone. + +"We can take a carriage," said Solomon John. + +"I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage," +said Mrs. + +Peterkin. + +"The hackman could not lift it, either," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"People do travel with a great deal of baggage," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And with very large trunks," said Agamemnon. + +"Still they are trunks that can be moved," said Mr. Peterkin, giving +another try at the trunk in vain. "I am afraid we must give it up," he +said; "it would be such a trouble in going from place to place." + +"We would not mind if we got it to the place," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"But how to get it there?" Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + +"This is our first obstacle," said Agamemnon; "we must do our best to +conquer it." + +"What is an obstacle?" asked the little boys. + +"It is the trunk," said Solomon John. + +"Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary," said Agamemnon, +taking the large volume from the trunk. "Ah, here it is--" And he read:-- +"OBSTACLE, an impediment." + +"That is a worse word than the other," said one of the little boys. + +"But listen to this," and Agamemnon continued: "Impediment is something +that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands in the way; +obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; hinderance, something +that holds back." + +"The trunk is all these," said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + +"It does not entangle the feet," said Solomon John, "for it can't move." + +"I wish it could," said the little boys together. + +Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the trunk +and putting them away. + +"At least," she said, "this has given me some experience in packing." + +And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + +But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested that +they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the station; +the little boys could go and come with the things. But Elizabeth Eliza +thought the place too public. + +Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + +At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a +good-sized family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the +journey was put off from that summer. + +But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family consultation +was held about packing it. Many things would have to be left at home, it +was so much smaller than the grandmother's hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had +been studying the atlas through the winter, and felt familiar with the +more important places, so it would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. +Peterkin decided to leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. With +great care and discretion, and by borrowing two more leather bags, it +could be accomplished. Everything of importance could be packed, except +the little boys' kite. What should they do about that? + +The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon John +and Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + +"I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of the +lady from Philadelphia," said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + +"She has come on here," said Agamemnon, "and we have not been to see her +this summer." + +"She may think we have been neglecting her," suggested Mr. Peterkin. + +The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion about the +kite. + +They came back in high spirits. + +"She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite when we +get there," they cried. + +"What a sensible idea!" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; "and I may have leisure +to help you." + +"We'll take plenty of newspapers," said Solomon John. + +"And twine," said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + +The question then was, "When should they go?" + + + + +THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. + +MRS. PETERKIN awoke one morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The +wind had flung the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the +house, and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering +hedges and fences. + +Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but nothing +could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white snow. Even Mr. +Bromwick's house, on the opposite side of the street, was hidden by the +swift-falling flakes. + +"What shall I do about it?" thought Mrs. Peterkin. "No roads +cleared out! Of course there'll be no butcher and no milkman!" + +The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for +there was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no knowing +when they would have anything more to eat. + +It was best to secure the breakfast first. + +So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, waking +the family, and before long all were dressed and downstairs. + +And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + +All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was frozen. +They could open the door into the wood-house; but the wood-house door +into the yard was banked up with snow; and the front door, and the +piazza door, and the side door stuck. Nobody could get in or out! + +Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the kitchen fire, +but had discovered there was no furnace coal. + +"The furnace coal was to have come to-day," said Mrs. Peterkin, +apologetically. + +"Nothing will come to-day," said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + +But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + +All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little boys +were much pleased to have "ice-cream" for breakfast. + +"When we get a little warm," said Mr. Peterkin, "we will consider what +is to be done." + +"I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday," said Mrs. Peterkin. "I +was to have had a leg of mutton to-day." + +"Nothing will come to-day," said Agamemnon, gloomily. + +"Are these sausages the last meat in the house?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had +meant to order more flour that very day. + +"Then we are eating our last provisions," said Solomon John, helping +himself to another sausage. + +"I almost wish we had stayed in bed," said Agamemnon. + +"I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first," repeated Mrs. +Peterkin. + +"Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"There's the pig!" suggested Solomon John. + +Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and could be +reached under cover. + +But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + +"We should have to 'corn' part of him," said Agamemnon. + +"My butcher has always told me," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that if I wanted a +ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have not the ham!" + +"Perhaps we could 'corn' one or two of his legs," suggested one of the +little boys. + +"We need not settle that now," said Mr. Peterkin. "At least the pig +will keep us from starving." + +The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + +"If we had only decided to keep a cow," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Alas! yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "one learns a great many things too +late!" + +"Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!" exclaimed the little +boys. + +Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were +quite pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and hurried +through their breakfasts that they might go and try to shovel out a path +from one of the doors. + +"I ought to know more about the water-pipes," said Mr. Peterkin. "Now, I +shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I forgot to; and +I ought to have shut it off in the cellar." + +The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were +going to try the side door. + +"Another thing I have learned to-day," said Mr. Peterkin, "is not to +have all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm blows the +snow against all the doors." + +Solomon John started up. + +"Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!" he +exclaimed. + +"Of what use," asked Mr. Peterkin, "since we have no door on the east +side?" + +"We could cut one," said Solomon John. + +"Yes, we could cut a door," exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?" asked Elizabeth +Eliza,--"for there is no window." + +In fact, the east side of the Peterkins' house formed a blank wall. The +owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached houses. He +had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + +"It is not necessary to see," said Agamemnon, profoundly; "of course, +if the storm blows against this side of the house, the house itself must +keep the snow from the other side." + +"Yes," said Solomon John, "there must be a space clear of snow +on the east side of the house, and if we could open a way to that "--"We +could open a way to the butcher," said Mr. Peterkin, promptly. + +Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house ever since +the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + +"What part of the wall had we better attack?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + +"What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?" she +exclaimed. "Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?" + +"It is right to preserve ourselves from starving," said Mr. Peterkin. +"The drowning man must snatch at a straw!" + +"It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the +thaw comes," said Elizabeth Eliza, "than that he should find us lying +about the house, dead of hunger, upon the floor." + +Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + +The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not succeeded in +opening the side door, and were planning trying to open the door from +the wood-house to the garden. + +"That would be of no use," said Mrs. Peterkin, "the butcher cannot get +into the garden." + +"But we might shovel off the snow," suggested one of the little +boys, "and dig down to some of last year's onions." + +Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had been bringing +together their carpenter's tools, and Elizabeth Eliza proposed using a +gouge, if they would choose the right spot to begin. + +The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to find,--one, +a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda armed herself with +a poker. + +"It would be better to begin on the ground floor," said Mr. +Peterkin. + +"Except that we may meet with a stone foundation," said Solomon John. + +"If the wall is thinner upstairs," said Agamemnon, "it will do as well +to cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher may bring +below in his cart." + +Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable +place, and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually cut +a bit out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. Solomon John +confided to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of stories of prisoners +who cut themselves free, through stone walls, after days and days of +secret labor. + +Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. She was +interrupted by a voice behind her. + +"Here's your leg of mutton, marm!" + +It was the butcher. How had he got in? + +"Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back gate +is kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I could not make +anybody hear me knock at the side door." + +"But how did you make a path to the door?" asked Mr. Peterkin. "You must +have been working at it a long time. It must be near noon now." + +"I'm about on regular time," answered the butcher. "The town +team has cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down the last +half-hour. The storm is over." + +True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had +not noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + +"And we were all up an hour earlier than usual," said Mr. Peterkin, +when the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a +pickaxe in his hand. + +"If we had lain abed till the usual time," said Solomon John, "we should +have been all right." + +"For here is the milkman!" said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now +heard at the side door. + +"It is a good thing to learn," said Mr. Peterkin, "not to get up any +earlier than is necessary." + + + + +THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. + +NOT that they were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. +But for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a +cow, to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be so +healthy. + +Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and +how near they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe +snow-storm, and the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If +the cow-shed could open out of the wood-shed, such trouble might be +prevented. + +Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, and +Agamemnon and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, in case Tony +should be "snowed up," or have the whooping-cough in the course of the +winter. The little boys thought they knew how already. + +But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it +was important to know where to keep it. + +"One way will be," said Mrs. Peterkin, "to use a great deal every day. +We will make butter." + +"That will be admirable," thought Mr. Peterkin. + +"And custards," suggested Solomon John. + +"And syllabub," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And cocoa-nut cakes," exclaimed the little boys. + +"We don't need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of +a cow. You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would be +pleasant climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "we shall have to feed the cow." + +"Where shall we pasture her?" asked Agamemnon. + +"Up on the hills, up on the hills," exclaimed the little boys, "where +there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes!" + +Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the house. + +"But I don't know," he said, "but the cow might eat off all the grass in +one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless the grass +grew fast enough every night." + +Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy season the +grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might not grow at all. + +"I suppose," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that is the worst of having a +cow,--there might be a drought." + +Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the quantity +of grass in the lot. + +Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by seeing how +much grass the Bromwicks' cow, opposite them, eat up in a day. + +The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the Bromwicks' +fence, and take an observation. + +"The trouble would be," said Elizabeth Eliza, "that cows walk about so, +and the Bromwicks' yard is very large. Now she would be eating in one +place, and then she would walk to another. She would not be eating all +the time, a part of the time she would be chewing." + +The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have +some sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the +calculations were made. + +But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + +"Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the place, +and very likely they would make the cow angry." + +Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. Peterkin's +lot for his cow. + +Mr. Peterkin started up. + +"That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there was feed +enough for one cow." + +"And the reason you didn't let him have it," said Solomon John, "was +that Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows." + +"I did not like the idea," said Elizabeth Eliza, "of their cow's +looking at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be +planting the sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a quiet +one. I should not like her jumping over the fence into the flower-beds." + +Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest kind. + +"I should think something might be done about covering her horns," said +Mrs. + +Peterkin; "that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might be +padded with cotton." + +Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if they +came at you they could not help knocking you over. + +The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. Half +the fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after her. + +Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + +"The cow would like it ever so much better," the little boys +declared, "on account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks and +the bushes, she could walk round and find the grassy places." + +"I am not sure," said Elizabeth Eliza, "but it would be less dangerous +to keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because she would not be +coming and going, morning and night, in that jerky way the Larkins' cows +come home. They don't mind which gate they rush in at. I should hate to +have our cow dash into our front yard just as I was coming home of an +afternoon." + +"That is true," said Mr. Peterkin; "we can have the door of the +cow-house open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and +going." + +The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the +exercise, and they would lose a great pleasure. + +Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch the +cow. + +It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they were to +put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build a dairy. + +The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the family +stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly walking into +the shed. + +Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. It +was the one she did her gardening in, and it might have infuriated the +cow. And she kept out of the garden the first day or two. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of milk-pans, of +every size. + +But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + +The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza +said she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, though she +would like to do her best to patronize the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking care +of the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she was sure the +pans and the closet were all clean. + +"Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from Philadelphia +to try," said Elizabeth Eliza; "it will be a pretty attention before she +goes." + +"It might be awkward if she didn't like it," said Solomon John. "Perhaps +something is the matter with the grass." + +"I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday," said one of the little boys, +remorsefully. + +Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all to +the lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + +The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the milk +was sour! + +"I was afraid it was so," said Mrs. Peterkin; "but I didn't know what to +expect from these new kinds of cows." + +The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + +"In the new dairy," answered Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Is that in a cool place?" asked the lady from Philadelphia. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + +"Is it near the chimney?" inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + +"It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range," replied +Elizabeth Eliza. "I suppose it is too hot!" + +"Well, well!" said Mrs. Peterkin, "that is it! Last winter the milk +froze, and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall we put our +dairy?" + + + + +THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE. + +EARLY in the autumn the Peterkins began to prepare for their +Christmas-tree. + +Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to the +neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin had been +up to Mr. + +Bromwick's wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. Agamemnon +went to look at it occasionally after dark, and Solomon John made +frequent visits to it mornings, just after sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove +Elizabeth Eliza and her mother that way, and pointed furtively to it +with his whip; but none of them ever spoke of it aloud to each other. +It was suspected that the little boys had been to see it Wednesday +and Saturday afternoons. But they came home with their pockets full of +chestnuts, and said nothing about it. + +At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into the +Larkin's barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement was made of +it with Elizabeth Eliza's yard-measure. To Mr. Peterkin's great dismay +it was discovered that it was too high to stand in the back parlor. + +This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, +Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + +Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. Peterkin +was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles would drip. + +But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the ceiling +of the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of the tree. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It must +not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "I should have the ceiling lifted all across +the room; the effect would be finer." + +Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, because +her room was over the back parlor, and she would have no floor while the +alteration was going on, which would be very awkward. Besides, her room +was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, perhaps she could +not walk in it upright. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn't propose altering the whole +ceiling, but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part where +the tree was to stand. + +This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza's room; but it +would go across the whole room. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the cuddy +thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit against, only +here you would not have the sea-sickness. She thought she should like +it, for a rarity. She might use it for a divan. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the carpet, and +might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + +Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the matter +secret, for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; but Mr. +Peterkin proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, for a number of +other jobs. + +One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same height, +for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting down in a chair +that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, and it had proved to +be two inches lower. The little boys were now large enough to sit in +any chair; so a medium was fixed upon to satisfy all the family, and the +chairs were made uniformly of the same height. + +On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree could be +cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, and demurred +at so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. Peterkin had set +his mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had cut her carpet in +preparation for it. + +So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for nearly a +fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen plastering, +and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth Eliza's carpet was +taken up, and the furniture had to be changed, and one night she had +to sleep at the Bromwicks', for there was a long hole in her floor that +might be dangerous. + +All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what was +going on. + +Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know why a +Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still more astonished +at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza's room. It must be a +Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + +Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, with +some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of the little +boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and mystery, behind +doors, and under the stairs, and in the corners of the entry. + +Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the tree. He +had been collecting some bayberries, as he understood they made very +nice candles, so that it would not be necessary to buy any. + +The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor together, +and all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin would go in +with Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth Eliza, or Elizabeth +Eliza and Agamemnon and Solomon John. The little boys and the small +cousins were never allowed even to look inside the room. + +Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She wanted +to consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should need, and whether +they could make it at home, as they had cream and ice. She was pretty +busy in her own room; the furniture had to be changed, and the carpet +altered. The "hump" was higher than she expected. There was danger +of bumping her own head whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some +padding on the ceiling for fear of accidents. + +The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and their +father collected in the back parlor for a council. The carpenters had +done their work, and the tree stood at its full height at the back of +the room, the top stretching up into the space arranged for it. All the +chips and shavings were cleared away, and it stood on a neat box. + +But what were they to put upon the tree? + +Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they proved to be +very "stringy" and very few of them. It was strange how many bayberries +it took to make a few candles! The little boys had helped him, and +he had gathered as much as a bushel of bayberries. He had put them in +water, and skimmed off the wax, according to the directions; but there +was so little wax! + +Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off from +the legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should cover them +with gilt paper, to answer for gilt apples, without telling them what +they were for. + +These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they +had for the tree! + +After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring +anything for it. + +"I thought of candies and sugar-plums," she said; "but I concluded if we +made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, then, we have not +made caramels. The fact is, that day my head was full of my carpet. I +had bumped it pretty badly, too." + +Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an apple-tree +he had seen in October, full of red fruit. + +"But the leaves would have fallen off by this time," said Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"And the apples, too," said Solomon John. + +"It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to get +the things," said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. "But I went from shop +to shop, and didn't know exactly what to get. I saw a great many gilt +things for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys were making +the gilt apples; there were plenty of candles in the shops, but I knew +Solomon John was making the candles." + +Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + +Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into town now. + +Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to be +a grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be spared, and +Solomon John was sure he and Agamemnon would not know what to buy. +Besides, they would want to try the candles to-night. + +Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing would +not answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too heavy. + +A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam from one +of Solomon John's candles that he had lighted by way of trial. + +Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match to +examine the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of trains +coming out at that hour, but none going in except a very late one. That +would not leave time to do anything and come back. + +"We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I," said Solomon John, "but we +should not have time to buy anything." + +Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the uncles and +aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there was time to study +up something about electric lights. If they could only have a calcium +light! Solomon John's candle sputtered and went out. + +At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The +little boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and Mrs. +Peterkin, hastened to see what was the matter. + +The uncles and aunts thought somebody's house must be on fire. The door +was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for it was beginning +to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza's purchases, +so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and hastily called +back her guests and the little boys into the other room. The little boys +and the small cousins were sure they had seen Santa Claus himself. + +Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza. +It was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a hint from +Elizabeth Eliza's letters that there was to be a Christmas-tree, and had +filled this box with all that would be needed. + +It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, from +gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining flags and +lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets +of fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at the bottom of the +whole, a large box of candles and a box of Philadelphia bonbons! + +Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from screaming. The +little boys and the small cousins knocked on the folding-doors to ask +what was the matter. + +Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung them on +the tree, and put on the candles. + +When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed:--"Let +us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors to-night, +and have the tree on Christmas Eve!" + +And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day +before, and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + + + + +MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. + +TWAS important to have a tea-party, as they had all been invited by +everybody,--the Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would be +such a good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the lady +from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who would be +sure to make it all go off well. + +But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were too +many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and saucers in the +best set. + +"There are seven of us, to begin with," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"We need not all drink tea," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"I never do," said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + +"And we could have coffee, too," suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + +"That would take as many cups," objected Agamemnon. + +"We could use the every-day set for the coffee," answered Elizabeth +Eliza; "they are the right shape. Besides," she went on, "they would not +all come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; they never go out." + +"There are but six cups in the every-day set," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin +agreed with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. Jeffers +never went out. + +"There are three of the Tremletts," said Elizabeth Eliza; "they never +go out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to have the +headache. Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the three Gibbons boys, and +their sister Juliana; but the other sisters are out West, and there is +but one Osborne." + +It really did seem safe to ask "everybody." They would be sorry, after +it was over, that they had not asked more. + +"We have the cow," said Mrs. Peterkin, "so there will be as much cream +and milk as we shall need." + +"And our own pig," said Agamemnon. "I am glad we had it salted; so we +can have plenty of sandwiches." + +"I will buy a chest of tea," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. "I have been +thinking of a chest for some time." + +Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was as well +to buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin determined on a +chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + +So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy +evening and some would be prevented. + +The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + +And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. Ann +Maria Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought her over, for +the Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the Tremletts had a niece, +and Mary Osborne an aunt, that they took the liberty to bring. + +The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each +set came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that more +were coming. + +Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, and +trying to calculate how many were to come, and wondering why there were +always more and never less, and whether the cups would go round. + +The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had their +headaches the day before, and were having that banged feeling you always +have after a headache; so they all sat at the same side of the room on +the long sofa. + +All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. Old Mr. +Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. + +The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor door. +And Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, unexpectedly +home from the West. + +"Got home this morning!" they said. "And so glad to be in time to +see everybody,--a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a +sleeping-car!" + +"Forty-eight!" repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were +forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and whether +all could sit down. + +Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be neighborly +to stay away. They insisted on getting into the most uncomfortable +seats. + +Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys preferred to +stand. + +But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had thought +they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John and the little +boys could help in the waiting. + +It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived with her +daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, who was a little +deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther behind the parlor +door. Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake hands with the lady from +Philadelphia, saying:--"Four Gibbons girls and Mary Osborne's aunt,--that +makes nineteen; and now"--It made no difference what she said; for there +was such a murmuring of talk that any words suited. And the lady from +Philadelphia wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + +It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, and +asked:-- + +"Can't we go and ask more? Can't we fetch the Larkins?" + +"Oh, dear, no!" answered Elizabeth Eliza. "I can't even count them." + +Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, to +ask if there were going to be cups enough. + +"I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count," said Elizabeth +Eliza, putting her hand to her head. + +The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + +"The Maberlys!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. "I never asked them." + +"It is your father's doing," cried Mrs. Peterkin. "I do believe he asked +everybody he saw!" And she hurried back to her guests. + +"What if father really has asked everybody?" Elizabeth Eliza said to +herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + +There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, or +both, the cups could not go round. + +Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + +He had not been able to count the guests, they moved about so, they +talked so; and it would not look well to appear to count. + +"What shall we do?" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +"We are not a family for an emergency," said Agamemnon. + +"What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, when +there were more people than cups and saucers?" asked Elizabeth Eliza. +"Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady from Philadelphia is +talking about the Exhibition, and telling how she stayed at home to +receive friends. And they must have had trouble there! Could not you go +in and ask, just as if you wanted to know?" + +Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many talking with the +lady from Philadelphia. + +"If we could only look into some book," he said,--"the encyclopaedia or +the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!" + +At this moment he thought of his "Great Triumphs of Great Men," that he +was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the Stephensons, +or any of the men of modern times. He might skip over to them,--he knew +they were men for emergencies. + +He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with chairs. + +"That is a good thought," said Agamemnon. "I will bring down more +upstairs chairs." + +"No," said Solomon John; "here are all that can come down; the rest of +the bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will do!" + +Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only he +could invent something on the spur of the moment,--a set of bedroom +furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into parlor chairs! It +seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his table and pencils, +when he was interrupted by the little boys, who came to tell him that +Elizabeth Eliza wanted him. + +The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the +tea-table, with all the things on, should be pushed into the front room, +where the company were; and those could take cups who could find cups. + +But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a +table; it might upset, and break what china they had. + +Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back room. She +called to him:--"Agamemnon, you must bring Mary Osborne to help, and +perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry round some of the cups." + +And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, and the +tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + +The little boys took the sugar and cream. + +"As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and saucers to +be washed," she said to the Gibbons boys and the little boys. + +This was an idea of Mary Osborne's. + +But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the more +cups they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, and Mary +Osborne the tea. + +Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + +"I can't understand it," Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. "Do they come +back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are more cups than +there were!" + +Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be coffee-cups that +matched the set! And they never had had coffee-cups. + +Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + +"Solomon John!" Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; "I cannot understand the +cups!" + +"It is my doing," said Solomon John, with an elevated air. "I went to +the lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. 'What do you do in +Philadelphia, when you haven't enough cups?' 'Borrow of my neighbors,' +she answered, as quick as she could." + +"She must have guessed," interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + +"That may be," said Solomon John. "But I whispered to Ann Maria +Bromwick,--she was standing by,--and she took me straight over into +their closet, and old Mr. Bromwick bought this set just where we bought +ours. And they had a coffee-set, too"--"You mean where our father and +mother bought them. We were not born," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"It is all the same," said Solomon John. "They match exactly." + +So they did, and more and more came in. + +Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + +"And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!" + +"Ann Maria was very good about it," said Solomon John; "and quick, too. +And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two dozen coffee and tea +cups!" + +Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told the +Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She +almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. + +"No trouble now!" + +She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. + +No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all +seemed to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, +talking to Mr. + +Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were handing +things around. + +The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls on +the edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a soft, warm +evening, and some of the young people were on the piazza. Everybody was +talking and laughing, except those who were listening. + +Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for more +coffee. + +"It's a great success, Elizabeth Eliza," he whispered. "The coffee is +admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should not mind +having a tea-party every week." + +Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going +off well. + +There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over another +such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + + + + +THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + +Dramatis Person.--Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda's mother, +girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. AMANDA +[coming in with a few graduates ]. + +MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole class home +to the collation. + +MOTHER.--The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + +AMANDA.--The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and Sophie +with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + +MOTHER.--Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + +AMANDA.--Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time for the +collation. + +MOTHER [to herself ].--If the ice-cream will go round. + +AMANDA.--But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? This is +Elizabeth Eliza, girls--you have heard me speak of her. What a pity you +were too late! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We tried to come; we did our best. + +MOTHER.--Did you miss the train? Didn't you get my postal-card? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We had nothing to do with the train. + +AMANDA.--You don't mean you walked? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--O no, indeed! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--We came in a horse and carryall. + +JULIA.--I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + +AMANDA.--You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall part. But +didn't you start in time? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--It all comes from the carryall being so hard to turn. I +told Mr. + +Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that +don't turn easy. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--They turn easy enough in the stable, so you can't +tell. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes; we started with the little boys and Solomon John on +the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. She was to drive, and I +was to see to the driving. But the horse was not faced toward Boston. + +MOTHER.--And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an accident! + +AMANDA.--And the little boys--where are they? Are they killed? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--The little boys are all safe. We left them at the +Pringles', with Solomon John. + +MOTHER.--But what did happen? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We started the wrong way. + +MOTHER.--You lost your way, after all? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--No; we knew the way well enough. + +AMANDA.--It's as plain as a pikestaff! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--No; we had the horse faced in the wrong +direction,--toward Providence. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--And mother was afraid to have me turn, and we kept on +and on till we should reach a wide place. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I thought we should come to a road that would veer off +to the right or left, and bring us back to the right direction. + +MOTHER.--Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Why, no; if it had broken down we should not have been +in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay in the +carriage, whatever happens. + +JULIA.--But nothing seemed to happen. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--O yes; we met one man after another, and we asked the +way to Boston. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--And all they would say was, "Turn right round--you are +on the road to Providence." + +MRS. PETERKIN.--As if we could turn right round! That was just what we +couldn't. + +MOTHER.--You don't mean you kept on all the way to Providence? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met a man with +a black hand-bag--black leather I should say. + +JULIA.--He must have been a book-agent. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He set it on a +stone. + +MOTHER.--I dare say it was the same one that came here the other day. +He wanted me to buy the "History of the Aborigines, Brought up from +Earliest Times to the Present Date," in four volumes. I told him I +hadn't time to read so much. He said that was no matter, few did, and it +wasn't much worth it--they bought books for the look of the thing. + +AMANDA.--Now, that was illiterate; he never could have graduated. I +hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that man. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--Very likely it was not the same one. + +MOTHER.--Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of the +buttons worn? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I noticed one of the buttons was off. + +AMANDA.--We're off the subject. Did you buy his book? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--He never offered us his book. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--He told us the same story,--we were going to Providence; +if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I told him I couldn't; but he took the horse's head, +and the first thing I knew--AMANDA.--He had yanked you round! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I screamed; I couldn't help it! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I was glad when it was over! + +MOTHER.--Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was headed +right; but we lost time. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and seeing +you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma myself. I came +near it. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I think there +was partiality about the promotions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I never was good about remembering things. I studied +well enough, but, when I came to say off my lesson, I couldn't think +what it was. Yet I could have answered some of the other girls' +questions. + +JULIA.--It's odd how the other girls always have the easiest questions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I never could remember poetry There was only one thing +I could repeat. + +AMANDA.--Oh, do let us have it now; and then we'll recite to you some of +our exhibition pieces. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I'll try. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help entertain +Amanda's friends. + +[All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and +thoughtful. ] ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I'm trying to think what it is about. +You all know it. You remember, Amanda,--the name is rather long. + +AMANDA.--It can't be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?--that is one of the longest +names I know. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O dear, no! + +JULIA.--Perhaps it's Cleopatra. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It does begin with a "C"--only he was a boy. + +AMANDA.--That's a pity, for it might be "We are seven," only that is a +girl. Some of them were boys. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It begins about a boy--if I could only think where he +was. I can't remember. + +AMANDA.--Perhaps he "stood upon the burning deck?" + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--That's just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + +AMANDA.--Casablanca! Now begin--go ahead. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--"The boy stood on the burning deck, When--When--" +I can't think who stood there with him. + +JULIA.--If the deck was burning, it must have been on fire. I guess the +rest ran away, or jumped into boats. + +AMANDA.--That's just it:--"Whence all but him had fled." + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I think I can say it now. + + "The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled---" + +[She hesitates. ] Then I think he went-- + +JULIA.--Of course, he fled after the rest. + +AMANDA.--Dear, no! That's the point. He didn't. + + "The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father's word." + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O yes. Now I can say it. + + "The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled; + The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father's word." + +But it used to rhyme. I don't know what has happened to it. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the rhymes. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It must be "without his father's head," or, perhaps, +"without his father said" he should. + +JULIA.--I think you must have omitted something. + +AMANDA.--She has left out ever so much! + +MOTHER.--Perhaps it's as well to omit some, for the ice-cream has come, +and you must all come down. + +AMANDA.--And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite in a +song! + +[Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + + + + +THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + +THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys the +evening before. + +They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing of +horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely five +minutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward till +the family were downstairs. + +It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though +crowded, period of noise. + +The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o'clock, a +terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + +Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: "I am +thankful the lady from Philadelphia is not here!" For she had been +invited to stay a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth of +July, as she was not well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + +And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though every +cow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns! + +"How many little boys are there? How many have we?" exclaimed Mr. +Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking he +would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, to +put himself to sleep. Alas! + +the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + +And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Eliza +was to take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the five +minutes, and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Why +did not Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + +And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen! + +"We will not try this plan again," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"If we live to another Fourth," added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the +door to inquire into the state of affairs. + +Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour too +early. And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or four +of their friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had given +them permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understood +the day as beginning when they went to bed the night before. This +accounted for the number of horns. + +It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the five +minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained only +the noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possible +pillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bells +and cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,--the sunrise, or +"the rising of the sons," as Mr. + +Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their +friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + +They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the +suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang some +flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew of +a place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for +"flag-root," and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They did +bring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. The +boys were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of the +piazza when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along. +As the procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and the +crowd of boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house +with some especial strains of greeting. + +Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a few +moments of quiet, during the boys' absence from the house on their +visit to the swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she had +a sick-headache, or whether it was all the noise, and she was just +deciding it was the sick headache, but was falling into a light slumber, +when the fresh noise outside began. + +There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of +donkeys, and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers of +the boys. Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles had +Chinese crackers also. + +And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + +Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had never +allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraid +of torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some the +children would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it. + +She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even about +pea-nuts. + +Everybody exclaimed over this: "Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!" +But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at the +Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets in +Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast the +pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, in +the midst of a crowd of people, too! + +Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should be +sorry to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution, +something really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed to +a quiet pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on the +sidewalks as he went along the streets. + +Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + +In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real +celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consented +to give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family as +a Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terrible +noise,--only she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house. + +The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days +beforehand, that their mother might be used to the sound, and had +selected their horns some weeks before. + +Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs. +Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from the +dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,--saltpetre, +charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in the +wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel; +and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary's. He explained to his +mother that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and she +was quieted. + +Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere for +making a "fulminating paste" of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. He +had written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But the +iron filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or two +before, and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on the +piazza. + +Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening. + +According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, the +reading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in the +morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + +The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + +"That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant," explained Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"She said the flags of our country," said the little boys. "We +thought she meant 'in the country.'" + +Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of the +Declaration of Independence. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add as +much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as they +began:--"When, in the course of--when, in the course of--when, in the +course of human--when in the course of human events--when, in the course +of human events, it becomes--when, in the course of human events, +it becomes necessary--when, in the course of human events it becomes +necessary for one people"--They could not get any farther. Some of the +party decided that "one people" was a good place to stop, and the little +boys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the people. But Mr. +Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party to stay until +sunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes were to be +saved to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + +And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + +Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have +some cold beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and +everybody ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a +dinner. But when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it +to soak, on account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks! + +Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought +tamarinds and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when +the Antiques and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts +and lemonade. + +They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, they +frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppies +were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in the +garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing of +insects, in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Some +neighboring boys were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs. +Peterkin started, and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone. +Mr. Peterkin had set out to find a copy of the "Declaration." Agamemnon +had disappeared. She had not a moment to decide about her headache. + +She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and if +rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure where +they came down. + +And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed toward +them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for a +practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of the +guests. + +There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they would +better go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkin +hastened into the house to save herself, or see what she could save. +Elizabeth Eliza followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers +and tongs she could find, because they could be thrown out of the window +without breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses +out of the window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on +fire, and had carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. +There was nothing like being prepared. She had always determined to do +the reverse. So with calmness she told Solomon John to take down the +looking-glasses. But she met with a difficulty,--there were no pokers and +tongs, as they did not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin +had been afraid of them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and +kettles up to the upper windows, ready to be thrown out. + +But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the +attic in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the +most unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags +of old pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, +she said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks on +Fourth of July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all the +company declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long +before Mrs. Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company +was only out for show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought +it already too much celebrated. + +Elizabeth Eliza's kettles and pans had come down through the windows +with a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boys +thought. + +Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy of +the Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and he +had to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannon +began, he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bells +and sounding of the cannon. + +Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjoram +pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off with +great explosions. + +At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon, +with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside. + +"I have suddenly remembered where I read about the 'fulminating paste' +we made. It was in the preface to 'Woodstock,' and I have been round to +borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraid +about the 'paste' going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where is +the fulminating paste?" + +Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel. +It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told him +of the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it the +louder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon John +felt it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for a +medicine. + +He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon's book: "This paste, +when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take +fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell." + +"Where is the paste?" repeated Solomon John, in terror. + +"We made it just twenty-six hours ago," said Agamemnon. + +"We put it on the piazza," exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling the +facts, "and it is in front of our mother's feet!" + +He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, +flinging aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon the +piazza at the same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded at +once with the shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same moment +the paste "fulminated" into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs. +Peterkin! + +It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. The +bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had just +reached the closing words: "Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred +honor." + +"We are all blown up, as I feared we should be," Mrs. Peterkin at +length ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of +the piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered +limbs about her. + +It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the +piazza, with closed eyes. + +At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, "Is anybody killed?" + +There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody +was killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great +while before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move. + +But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of +Solomon John's fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had +his face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza's +muslin dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one had +lost any limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flying +in the air. Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmly +shut. + +No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of Solomon +John's nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the +"fulminating paste." + +Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how she +got there. + +Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused the +neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on every +side, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boys +hastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. Solomon +John's other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough. + +Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have a +headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to see +if it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures of +the day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boys +had been allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there was +likely to be but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared she +should never more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetred +beef, and she should never venture to take another spoonful of potash. + + + + +THE PETERKINS' PICNIC. + +THERE was some doubt about the weather. Solomon John looked at the +"Probabilities;" there were to be "areas" of rain in the New England +States. + +Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of rain were +to be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed walking round +the house in a procession, to examine the sky. As they returned they +met Ann Maria Bromwick, who was to go, much surprised not to find them +ready. + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the lady +from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to follow in a +wagon, and to stop for the daughters of the lady from Philadelphia. The +wagon arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall. + +A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where anybody +could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as soon as it was +thought of. + +Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; somebody was always +complaining of being too hot or too cold at a picnic, and it would be a +great convenience to see if she really were so. He thought now he might +take a barometer, as "Probabilities" was so uncertain. Then, if it went +down in a threatening way, they could all come back. + +The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never tried +them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. Solomon John +had put in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a book of poetry. Mr. +Peterkin did not like sitting on the ground, and proposed taking two +chairs, one for himself and one for anybody else. The little boys were +perfectly happy; they jumped in and out of the wagon a dozen times, with +new india-rubber boots, bought for the occasion. + +Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already had +enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying to remember +things. So many mistakes were made. The things that were to go in the +wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in the carryall had to be +taken out for the wagon! + +Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her veil, +and Mr. + +Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + +Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she +must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could not she +think of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any day to think +what to have for dinner, but how much easier now it would be to stay at +home quietly and order the dinner,--and there was the butcher's cart! But +now they must think of everything. + +At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to +drive. + +Twice they started, and twice they found something was left behind,--the +loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a basket of sandwiches +on the front porch. And just as the wagon was leaving, the little boys +shrieked, "The basket of things was left behind!" + +Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the house, to +see if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; he shut +the front door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into the wagon +himself. It started off and went down the street without him! + +He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why had they +not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel of the +wagon, so that he might have sent a message in such a case!), when the +Bromwicks drove out of their yard in their buggy, and took him in. + +They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they were +all to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin called to +Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been holding the barometer +and the thermometer, and they waggled so that it troubled her. It was +hard keeping the thermometer out of the sun, which would make it so +warm. It really took away her pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon +decided to get into the carryall, on the seat with his father, and take +the barometer and thermometer. + +The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or Lonetown +Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, but maybe the drive +to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + +Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the picnic was +got up for her. + +But where was she? + +"I declare," said Mr. Peterkin, "I forgot to stop for her!" The whole +picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + +It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner as +they passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, and Mrs. +Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers that she had not +noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten something! She +did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short turn, and it was getting +late, and what would the lady from Philadelphia think of it, and had +they not better give it all up? + +But everybody said "No!" and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a wide turn +round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took up the lady from +Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind and took up their daughters, +for there was a driver in the wagon besides Solomon John. + +Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might as well +stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question was put again, +Where should they go? + +The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nook--it sounded +inviting. + +There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, but +there was a good place to tie the horses. + +Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know what +the lady from Philadelphia would think of their having forgotten her, +and the more she tried to explain it, the worse it seemed to make it. +She supposed they never did such things in Philadelphia; she knew they +had invited all the world to a party, but she was sure she would never +want to invite anybody again. There was no fun about it till it was all +over. Such a mistake--to have a party for a person, and then go without +her; but she knew they would forget something! She wished they had not +called it their picnic. + +There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. "Was anything broke?" +exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. "Was something forgotten?" asked the lady from +Philadelphia. + +No! But Mr. Peterkin didn't know the way; and here he was leading all +the party, and a long row of carriages following. + +They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, +unless it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They were made +to drive up, and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different +direction, but they could bring the party round to it through the +meadows. + +The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a +pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry +Nook, and had better keep on, So they kept on. It proved to be an +excellent place, where they could tie the horses to a fence. Mrs. +Peterkin did not like their all heading different ways; it seemed as if +any of them might come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the +little boys had their kites flapping round. The Tremletts insisted upon +the whole party going up the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons +boys, and the little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all +the party had to carry everything up to the rocks. The large basket of +"things" was very heavy. + +It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to +take it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and old +Mr. Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + +And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. The +other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the +carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And the table-cloth was +spread,--for they did bring a table-cloth,--and the baskets were opened, +and the picnic really began. + +The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been +forgotten, and the Tremletts' basket had been left on their front +door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, and +everything they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were perfectly +happy, and ate of all the kinds of cake. Two of the Tremletts would +stand while they were eating, because they were afraid of the ants and +the spiders that seemed to be crawling round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to +keep poking with a fern leaf to drive the insects out of the plates. +The lady from Philadelphia was made comfortable with the cushions and +shawls, leaning against a rock. Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she +had been forgotten. + +John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: "Why is a +pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? Because one is +a grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!" + +Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her +friends in Boston had told her. It was, "Why is--" It began, "Why is +something like--no, Why are they different?" It was something about an +old woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very +funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was +alike or different. + +The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth +Eliza's conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one +of the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just +discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to +rain down directly. + +Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + +There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it +appeared that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had +gone back for it twice. + +Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put +the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the +hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + +There was a great cry for the "emergency basket," that had not been +opened yet. + +Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into +it what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. Everybody +stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered with newspapers. +First came out a backgammon-board. "That would be useful," said Ann +Maria, "if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody's barn." Next, a +pair of andirons. "What were they for?" "In case of needing a fire +in the woods," explained Solomon John. Then came a volume of the +Encyclopdia. But it was the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and +contained only A and a part of B, and nothing about rain or showers. +Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in by the little boys, and Elizabeth +Eliza's book of poetry, and a change of boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small +foot-rug in case the ground should be damp; some paint-boxes of the +little boys'; a box of fish-hooks for Solomon John; an ink-bottle, +carefully done up in a great deal of newspaper, which was fortunate, as +the ink was oozing out; some old magazines, and a blacking-bottle; +and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was all very entertaining, and there +seemed to be something for every occasion but the present. Old +Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy. It was all so +interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the carriages. + +The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on +setting up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and +they might as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon John and Ann +Maria had arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their +watches, so that they might see if it was right. And then came a great +exclamation at the hour: "It was time they were all going home!" + +The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she +felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they +had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes +to consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time +to fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away. But +it had been a delightful picnic, after all. + + + + +THE PETERKINS' CHARADES. + +EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have "something" +at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to +get up a "great Exposition," to show to the people of the place. But Mr. +Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for +"exhibits," and it was given up. + +There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common, +and the ladies of the place thought it ought to be something +handsome,--something more than a common trough,--and they ought to work +for it. + +Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, and +she felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, but +she would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written to +the lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, if +they had asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble. + +Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what they +wanted? + +It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask +about. And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but +you could not always put them together. There was this idea of the +water-trough, and then this idea of getting some money for it. So +she began with writing to the lady from Philadelphia. The little boys +believed she spent enough for it in postage-stamps before it all came +out. + +But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have +some charades at their own house for the benefit of the needed +water-trough,--tickets sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwick +was to help act, because she could bring some old bonnets and gowns that +had been worn by an aged aunt years ago, and which they had always kept. +Elizabeth Eliza said that Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they +must borrow all the red things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She +knew people would be willing to lend things. + +Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, they +were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it too +odd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything to +frighten her mother. + +She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her +letters,--the one that had "Turk" in it,--but they ought to have two words +"Oh, yes," Ann Maria said, "you must have two words; if the people paid +for their tickets they would want to get their money's worth." + +Solomon John thought you might have "Hindoos"; the little boys could +color their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the first +scene an Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for +"dues," and then have the little boys for Hindoos. + +A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit. +There was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doors +stuck when you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that the +Pan-Elocutionists had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne, +and so it was decided to ask John Osborne to help. + +If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said he +was sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make a +stage if John Osborne would help put it up. + +All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann +Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and they +spent the evening in trying on the various things,--such odd caps and +remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of +bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off +well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs. + +Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys +brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with +costumes. + +Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what +they were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she +had,--it would all come of use. + +The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon +and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped +zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There +was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and +such a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came +in the little boys, shouting, "All the tickets are sold, at ten cents +each!" + +"Seventy tickets sold!" exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"Seven dollars for the water-trough!" said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And we do not know yet what we are going to act!" exclaimed Ann Maria. + +But everybody's attention had to be given to the scene that was going +up in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was +magnificent, and represented a forest. + +"Where are we going to put seventy people?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, +venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter. + +The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted +of boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and +sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made +ready! It was late, and some of the people had already come to secure +good seats, even before the actors had assembled. + +"What are we going to act?" asked Ann Maria. + +"I have been so torn with one thing and another," said Elizabeth Eliza, +"I haven't had time to think!" + +"Haven't you the word yet?" asked John Osborne, for the audience was +flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + +"I have got one word in my pocket," said Elizabeth Eliza, "in the letter +from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. +Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don't yet understand the whole of +the word." + +"You don't know the word, and the people are all here!" said John +Osborne, impatiently. + +"Elizabeth Eliza!" exclaimed Ann Maria, "Solomon John says I'm to be a +Turkish slave, and I'll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils +are? You know I brought them over last night." + +"Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere +scarf!" exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + +"Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!" cried +another of the boys. + +And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other side +of the thin curtain. + +"You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sit +where you can hear." + +"And let Julia Fitch come where she can see," said another voice. + +"And we have not any words for them to hear or see!" exclaimed John +Osborne, behind the curtain. + +"Oh, I wish we'd never determined to have charades! exclaimed Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"Can't we return the money?" + +"They are all here; we must give them something!" said John Osborne, +heroically. + +"And Solomon John is almost dressed," reported Ann Maria, +winding a veil around her head. + +"Why don't we take Solomon John's word 'Hindoos' for the first?" said +Agamemnon. + +John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the "hin," or anything, +and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a +feather duster. + +The bell rang, and the first scene began. + +It was a great success. John Osborne's Irish was perfect. Nobody guessed +the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause. + +Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, and +made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as an +old woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the +audience, speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who +appeared in a more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly +back, saying she had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the +effect intended, and it was loudly cheered. + +Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of +their friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano +till the scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done up +in blankets and turbans. + +"I am thankful that is over," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for now we can act +my word. Only I don't myself know the whole." + +"Never mind, let us act it," said John Osborne, "and the audience can +guess the whole." + +"The first syllable must be the letter P," said Elizabeth Eliza, "and we +must have a school." + +Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on as +scholars. + +All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school +by flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + +"They'll guess that to be 'row,'" said John Osborne in despair; "they'll +never guess 'P'!" + +The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John +Osborne's army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all +the family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him, +veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes. + +This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth +Eliza was sure she did not know what to do,--whether to kneel or sit +down; she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could +not help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however, +kept his solemnity. "I suppose I need not say much," he had said, "for I +shall be the 'Turk who was dreaming of the hour.'" But he did order +the little boys to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice +insisted they must have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and +the scene closed. + +"What are we to do now?" asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion. + +"We must have an 'inn' scene," said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her +letter; "two inns, if we can." + +"We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going +to another," said John Osborne. + +"Now is the time for the bandboxes," said Solomon John, who, since +his Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the +charade. + +Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw +Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns. +The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes. +Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the +applause was immense. At last the curtain fell. + +"Now for the whole," said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage +over a heap of umbrellas. + +"I can't think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the +whole," said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + +"Listen, they are guessing," said John Osborne. "'D-ice-box.' I don't +wonder they get it wrong." + +"But we know it can't be that!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony. +"How can we act the whole if we don't know it ourselves?" + +"Oh, I see it!" said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. "Get your whole +family in for the last scene." + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the +background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon +John, leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance, +and in front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in their +india-rubber boots. + +The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, "The Peterkins!" +"P-Turk-Inns!" + +It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole. + +"What a tableau!" exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; "the Peterkin family guessing +their own charade." + + + + +THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. + +AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was +called a "semi-detached" house, when there was no other "semi" to it. +It had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built the +other half. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the +terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully +satisfied with the one they were in. + +But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new +railroad had to be carried directly through the place, and a station was +to be built on that very spot. + +Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether they +could not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give up +the lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant, +and it would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be no +danger of missing the train, if one were sure of the direction. + +But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and the +steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under the +dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what the +family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move. + +But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that +satisfied the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a +tan-pit; another was too much in the middle of the town, next door to +a machine-shop. Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, that +should face the sunset; while Mr. + +Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towards +the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), for +the sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house with +a great many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr. +Peterkin did not like so much slamming, and felt there was more danger +of burglars with so many doors. + +Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop. +If he could have carpenters' tools and a workbench he could build an +observatory, if it were wanted. + +But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leave +their house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch's, at the +Corners. It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, and +was opposite a barn. There were three other doors,--too many to +please Mr. Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was no +observatory, and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house was +too low and some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had +hoped for a view; but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more +healthy to have to walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they +might get tired of the same every day. + +And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carried +their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent the +evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everything +beforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her mother +dreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkin +shook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort. +Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme. + +Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme would +make it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, which +could be put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlor +furniture could be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms, +in which Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the move +went on. Then the old parlor carpets could be taken up for the new +dining-room and the downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhile +dine at the old house. Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the +distance was considerable, as he felt exercise would be good for them +all. + +Elizabeth Eliza's programme then arranged that the dining-room furniture +should be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlor +carpets would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleep +in the old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable place +in one house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, he +would find some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day there +should be moved only the furniture needed for a certain room. Great +confusion would be avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote +these last words at the head of her programme,--"Misplace nothing." + +And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of the +family. + +THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.--Page 126. The first thing to be done was to +buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at some +in Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with her +father, Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them. + +They got home about eleven o'clock, and when they reached the house +were dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, already +partly filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, a +large book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meet +them in an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture carts +had appeared soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the men +had insisted upon beginning to move the things. In vain had she shown +Elizabeth Eliza's programme; in vain had she insisted they must take +only the parlor furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy +pieces in the bottom of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So +she had seen them go into every room in the house, and select one piece +of furniture after another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza's +programme; she doubted if they could have read it if they had looked at +it. + +Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea they +would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fill +the carts. + +But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,--a heavy piece of +furniture,--and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables. +Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every book +on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books in +the bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from the +shelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters as +natural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought all +to be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon's +Encyclopdia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting it +with the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four men +were bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father's room, and +they called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene of +confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore them +to the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay in +hopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in +despair upon the end of a sofa. + +"It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet," said Solomon +John. + +"Is not the carpet bought?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they were +obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had come +back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + +"What shall we do?" asked Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, "I +shall be back in a moment." + +Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumes +of his Encyclopdia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a man +lifting a wardrobe. + +Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. "I did not like to go and ask her. But +I felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the whole +matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan's." + +"Makillan's" was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only one +all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed they +might prefer one from Boston. + +The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to +Makillan's to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But where +should they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr. +Peterkin's "quiet hour"? + +Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were +covered with things. + +It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks, +who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should get +something to eat at the baker's. + +Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to receive the +carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. After +all there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house, +and in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza stepped +down the front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to the +door. But it was locked, and she had no keys! + +"Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?" she exclaimed. + +No, he had not seen them since the morning,--when--ah!--yes, the little +boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber boots, +as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some door +unfastened--perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, each +door, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat! + +"I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with +them," said Agamemnon; "or else go home to see if they left them there." +The school was in a different direction from the house, and far at the +other end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys' +school, as he proposed to do after their move. + +"That will be the only way," said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been +arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and not +come home at noon. + +She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the +carts soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with the +furniture? Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she should +need them to set the furniture up in the right places. But they could +not stop for this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, in +the garden, and Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There was +something from every room in the house! Even the large family chest, +which had proved too heavy for them to travel with had come down from +the attic, and stood against the front door. + +And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with a +wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Some +opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and Elizabeth +Eliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furniture +appeared to be standing full in view. + +It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had been +to the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one of +the little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes. +Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrow +had waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept and +cleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there +would not be time enough to do anything. + +And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the +furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a little +place in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and go +home to sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringing +the bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs. + +In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had been +there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agony +about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how could +it be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainly +could not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left till +the house was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of one +side. But Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was to +be moved without being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips +narrow enough to go out. One of the men loading the remaining cart +disposed of the question by coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and +carrying it on on top of his wagon. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But what +should they do?--no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room table +and sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, and +spoons here. In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed; +everything was misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eat +here and sleep here, and what had become of the little boys? + +Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packing +the dining-room china. + +They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one +suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they should +want to take them next. + +Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + +"Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!" she +exclaimed. + +Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkin +would be there for his "quiet hour." And when the carters at last +appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed and +said, "There is nothing left," and meekly consented to be led away. + +They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in a +rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the opposite +barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken back +with him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side of +the house. + +Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, the +floors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to stand +in a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,--there was +nothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had not +come, and although the tables were there they were covered with chairs +and boxes. + +At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. It +contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same moment +appeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed all +this on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon +John came rushing in from the gate. + +"The last load is coming! We are all moved!" he exclaimed; and the +little boys joined in a chorus, "We are moved! we are moved!" + +Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on the +parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza's hat-box. The +parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed on +the parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and the +looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they were +moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved. + + + + +THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + +CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The Peterkins had +moved into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where +they would have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of +course they would then have more time. + +Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a long +time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when +she wanted to play on her piano. + +Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. +The upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of +the door to the closet under the stairs. But the under table-cloth was +kept in a drawer in the closet. So, whenever the cloths were changed, +the trunk had to be pushed away under some projecting shelves to make +room for opening the closet-door (as the under table-cloth must be taken +out first), then the trunk was pushed back to make room for it to be +opened for the upper table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to +push the trunk away again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. +This always consumed a great deal of time. + +Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find a +place in it. + +Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house there was +no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept upstairs, which +was very inconvenient, and the volumes of the Encyclopdia could not be +together. There was not room for all in one place. So from A to P were +to be found downstairs, and from Q to Z were scattered in different +rooms upstairs. And the worst of it was, you could never remember +whether from A to P included P. "I always went upstairs after P," said +Agamemnon, "and then always found it downstairs, or else it was the +other way." + +Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the books all +in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking for them. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. If +they went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. Elizabeth +Eliza could talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, German with the +Germans; Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish +in Spain; and perhaps he could himself master all the Eastern Languages +and Russian. + +Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all the +family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth Eliza +dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more willing. + +Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always said +she would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, and she was +sure it did not look like it now. + +Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something new every day, +and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a telephone, for they +had bridges in the very earliest days. + +Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could be found +in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three could be brought +out in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for them, and could learn a +little on the way out and in. + +Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. He was +told that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed they should +all begin with Sanscrit. They would thus require but one teacher, and +could branch out into the other languages afterward. + +But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth +Eliza already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk +it, without much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of the +side-stands. But she found she had been talking with a Moorish gentleman +who did not understand French. Mr. + +Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers came +at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they would be using +different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought something might be +learned by having them all at once. Each one might pick up something +beside the language he was studying, and it was a great thing to learn +to talk a foreign language while others were talking about you. Mrs. +Peterkin was afraid it would be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it +was all right. + +Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they ought to +have foreign teachers, who spoke only their native languages. But, in +this case, how could they engage them to come, or explain to them about +the carryall, or arrange the proposed hours? He did not understand how +anybody ever began with a foreigner, because he could not even tell him +what he wanted. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and +pantomime. + +Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be done. +Elizabeth Eliza explained how "langues" meant both "languages" and +"tongues," and they could point to their tongues. For practice, the +little boys represented the foreign teachers talking in their different +languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon John went to invite them to come +out, and teach the family by a series of signs. + +Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they might +almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and trust to +explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not yet made, +it might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they were +invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to his mouth +as he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and it looked a +great deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than asking them +to teach. Agamemnon suggested that they might carry the separate +dictionaries when they went to see the teachers, and that would show +that they meant lessons, and not lunch. + +Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for them, +if they had come all that way; but she certainly did not know what they +were accustomed to eat. + +Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the +foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and they +might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys were +delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. Agamemnon had heard +that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the Germans, and he would +inquire how it was made in the first lesson. Solomon John had heard they +were all very fond of garlic, and thought it would be a pretty attention +to have some in the house the first day, that they might be cheered by +the odor. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by her +knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons before the +Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + +There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to obtain +teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He did not want +to be tempted to talk any English with them. He wanted the latest +and freshest languages, and at last came home one day with a list of +"brand-new foreigners." + +They decided to borrow the Bromwicks' carryall to use, beside their own, +for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon drove into town to +bring all the teachers out. One was a Russian gentleman, travelling, who +came with no idea of giving lessons, but perhaps he would consent to do +so. He could not yet speak English. + +Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several gentlemen +who had recommended the different teachers, and he went with Agamemnon +from hotel to hotel collecting them. He found them all very polite, +and ready to come, after the explanation by signs agreed upon. The +dictionaries had been forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which +looked the same, and seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + +Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian instead +of one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new teacher of that +language lately arrived. + +But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian gentleman +into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for he was a Turk, +sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! They glared at each +other, and began to assail each other in every language they knew, none +of which Mr. Peterkin could understand. It might be Russian, it might be +Arabic. It was easy to understand that they would never consent to sit +in the same carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten +about the Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + +Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But the +French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to go with +him in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For the German +professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As soon as the French +gentleman put his foot on the step and saw him, he addressed him in +such forcible language that the German professor got out of the door the +other side, and came round on the sidewalk, and took him by the collar. +Certainly the German and French gentlemen could not be put together, and +more crowd collected! + +Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word "Herr," and +he applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the +other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither +of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr. +Peterkin with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian +teachers behind, vociferating to each other in languages unknown to +Mr. Peterkin, while he feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so +he drove home as fast as possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The +Spaniard by his side was a little moody, while the Turk and the German +behind did not utter a word. + +At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin +and Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her +shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful +to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the +library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and +Russian apart. + +Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his +Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The +little boys took their copy of the "Arabian Nights" to the Turk. Mr. +Peterkin attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian +dictionary, as he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs. +Peterkin was trying to inform her teacher that she had no books in +Spanish. She got over all fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad, +and she tried to talk a little, using English words, but very slowly, +and altering the accent as far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed, +looked gravely interested, and was very polite. + +Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the +Parisian. + +She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But +he understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her +vocabularies, and went on with--"J'ai le livre." "As-tu le pain?" +"L'enfant a une poire." He listened with great attention, and replied +slowly. Suddenly she started after making out one of his sentences, and +went to her mother to whisper, "They have made the mistake you feared. +They think they are invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for +our politeness in inviting them to djener,--that means breakfast!" + +"They have not had their breakfast!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at +her Spaniard; "he does look hungry! What shall we do?" + +Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How +should they make them understand that they invited them to teach, not +lunch. Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out "apprendre" in the +dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they found it means both to +teach and to learn! What should they do? The foreigners were now sitting +silent in their different corners. The Spaniard grew more and more +sallow. What if he should faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of +his mustaches to a point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian +should fight the Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the +airs of the Parisian? + +"We must give them something to eat," said Mr. Peterkin, in a low tone. +"It would calm them." + +"If I only knew what they were used to eating," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others were used +to eating, and they might bring in anything. + +Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could make +good coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American dish. Solomon John +sent a little boy for some olives. + +It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked beans. +Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled eggs, and some +bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every man spoke his own +tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + +Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to her. They +all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was fluent about +"les moeurs Amricaines." Elizabeth Eliza supposed he alluded to their +not having set any table. The Turk smiled, the Russian was voluble. In +the midst of the clang of the different languages, just as Mr. Peterkin +was again repeating, under cover of the noise of many tongues, "How +shall we make them understand that we want them to teach?"--at this +very moment the door was flung open, and there came in the lady from +Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + +She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different languages! +The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together they called +upon her to explain for them. Could she help them? Could she tell the +foreigners they wanted to take lessons? Lessons? They had no sooner +uttered the word than their guests all started up with faces beaming +with joy. It was the one English word they all knew! They had come to +Boston to give lessons! The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English +in this way. The thought pleased them more than the djener. + +Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. The +first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to teach. + + + + +MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. + +AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a profession. +It was important on account of the little boys. If he should make a +trial of several different professions he could find out which would be +the most likely to be successful, and it would then be easy to bring up +the little boys in the right direction. + +Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family occasionally +made mistakes, and had come near disgracing themselves. Now was their +chance to avoid this in future by giving the little boys a proper +education. + +Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From earliest +childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips of paper. +Mrs. Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She could not bear +the idea of his bringing one disease after the other into the family +circle. Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. He thought he might +manage it if he should not have to see his patients while they were +sick. If he could only visit them when they were recovering, and when +the danger of infection was over, he would really enjoy making calls. + +He should have a comfortable doctor's chaise, and take one of the little +boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he could get +through the conversational part very well, and feeling the pulse, +perhaps looking at the tongue. He should take and read all the +newspapers, and so be thoroughly acquainted with the news of the day to +talk of. But he should not like to be waked up at night to visit. Mr. +Peterkin thought that would not be necessary. He had seen signs on doors +of "Night Doctor," and certainly it would be as convenient to have a +sign of "Not a Night Doctor." + +Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his patients +who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger of infection. And +then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his prescriptions would probably be so +satisfactory that they would keep his patients well,--not too well to do +without a doctor, but needing his recipes. + +Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, by a +desire he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only invent +something important, and get out a patent, he would make himself known +all over the country. If he could get out a patent he would be set up +for life, or at least as long as the patent lasted, and it would be well +to be sure to arrange it to last through his natural life. + +Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been +suggested by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their new +house. He had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked it up in +the Encyclopdia, and had spent a day or two in the Public Library, in +reading about Chubb's Lock and other patent locks. + +But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be made +alike! + +He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, Solomon +John said, with all inventions, with Christopher Columbus, and +everybody. Nobody knew the invention till it was invented, and then it +looked very simple. With Agamemnon's plan you need have but one key, +that should fit everything! It should be a medium-sized key, not too +large to carry. It ought to answer for a house door, but you might open +a portmanteau with it. How much less danger there would be of losing +one's keys if there were only one to lose! + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were out, +and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But Agamemnon +explained that he did not mean there should be but one key in the +family, or in a town,--you might have as many as you pleased, only they +should all be alike. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,--they could keep +the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the key of her +upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And Mrs. Peterkin felt +it might be a convenience if they had one on each story, so that they +need not go up and down for it. + +Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide about +the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one morning, they went +into town to visit a patent-agent. + +Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady from +Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + +"I have had a delightful call," she said; "but--perhaps I was wrong--I +could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon's proposed +patent. I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things are kept +profound secrets; they say women always do tell things; I suppose that +is the reason." + +"But where is the harm?" asked Mrs. Peterkin. "I'm sure you can trust +the lady from Philadelphia." + +Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had +questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had suggested +that "if everybody had the same key there would be no particular use in +a lock." + +"Did you explain to her," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that we were not all +to have the same keys?" + +"I couldn't quite understand her," said Elizabeth Eliza, "but she seemed +to think that burglars and other people might come in if the keys were +the same." + +"Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!" said Mrs. Peterkin, +indignantly. + +"But about other people," said Elizabeth Eliza; "there is my upper +drawer; the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,--and their +presents in it!" + +"And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda," said Mrs. Peterkin, +considering. + +Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know what +the lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza then proposed +going into town, but it would take so long she might not reach them in +time. A telegram would be better, and she ventured to suggest using the +Telegraph Alarm. + +For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was provided +with all the modern improvements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. +Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since their experience the last +winter, when their water-pipes were frozen up. She had been originally +attracted to the house by an old pump at the side, which had led her +to believe there were no modern improvements. It had pleased the little +boys, too. They liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump +all the water needed, and bring it into the house. + +There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner by the +barn. + +Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the little +boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great fondness for +pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, that the well was +dry. There was no water in it; so she had some moss thrown down, and an +old feather-bed, for safety, and the old well was a favorite place of +amusement. + +The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and "set- +waters" everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a +hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + +Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would be +summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to conceal from +them the use of the knobs, and the card of directions at the side was +destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first inventions to help this. +He had arranged a number of similar knobs to be put in rows in different +parts of the house, to appear as if they were intended for ornament, and +had added some to the original knobs. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a patent +for this invention. + +It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed sending +a telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was pleased with the +idea. + +Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she +herself would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write the +telegram. + +"I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning," she said, looking at +one of the rows of knobs. + +Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had put three +extra knobs at each end. + +"But which is the end, and which is the beginning,--the top or the +bottom?" Mrs. + +Peterkin asked hopelessly. + +Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened with her +to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see the telegraph +boy? + +They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible +noise was heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the +fire-brigade were seen rushing at a fatal speed! + +It was a terrific moment! + +"I have touched the fire-alarm," Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + +Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the +fire-engines were approaching. + +"Do not be alarmed," said the chief engineer; "the furniture shall be +carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary." + +"Move again!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + +Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a telegram +to her father, who was in Boston. + +"It is not important," said the head engineer; "the fire will all be +out before it could reach him." + +And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon the +roof. + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more +necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + +"Write a telegram to your father," she said to Elizabeth Eliza, "to +'come home directly.'" + +"That will take but three words," said Elizabeth Eliza, with presence of +mind, "and we need ten. I was just trying to make them out." + +"What has come now?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried +again to the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the street. + +"I must have touched the carriage-knob," cried Mrs. Peterkin, "and I +pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!" + +Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were assembling. +Even their own little boys had returned from school, and were showing +the firemen the way to the well. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound arose. She +had touched the burglar-alarm! + +The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, had +invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with a knob. A +wire attached to the knob moved a spring that could put in motion a +number of watchmen's rattles, hidden under the eaves of the piazza. + +All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those of +the neighborhood who had not before assembled around the house. At this +moment Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + +"You need not send for more help," he said; "we have all the engines +in town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the neighborhood; +there's no use in springing any more alarms. I can't find the fire yet, +but we have water pouring all over the house." + +Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + +"We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, who are +in town," she endeavored to explain. + +"If it is necessary," said the chief engineer, "you might send it down +in one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing before the +door. We'd better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you +women might fill the carriages with smaller things." + +Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself +with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob. + +Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice +of the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of +the hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched +the right knob. It was the fourth from the beginning; but the beginning +was at the other end! + +She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind him her +father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and hurried toward +them. + +Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where were +the flames? + +He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? Who was +dead? + +Who was to be married? + +He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and read it +aloud. + +"Come to us directly--the house is NOT on fire!" + +The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + +"The house not on fire!" he exclaimed. "What are we all summoned for?" + +"It is a mistake," cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. "We +touched the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy!" + +"We touched all the wrong knobs," exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from the +house. + +The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with a +few exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines were +heard approaching. + +Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one of the +carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was now nearly +ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought to send a telegram +down by the boy, for the evening papers, to announce that the Peterkins' +house had not been on fire. + +The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of flowers, +bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by the feet of the +crowd that had assembled. + +The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his men to +order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. The collection +of boys followed the procession as it went away. The fire-brigade +hastily removed covers from some of the furniture, restored the rest to +their places, and took away their ladders. Many neighbors remained, but +Mr. Peterkin hastened into the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before he +went in, as to the success of their visit to town. + +"We saw all the patent-agents," answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow +whisper. "Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything to do +with it." + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into the +house. She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she recalled +some words of Solomon John. When they were discussing the patent he +had said that many an inventor had grown gray before his discovery was +acknowledged by the public. Others might reap the harvest, but it came, +perhaps, only when he was going to his grave. + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed him +silently into the house. + + + + +AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. + +THERE had apparently been some mistake in Agamemnon's education. He had +been to a number of colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his +course in any one. + +He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. It +was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always tried to +find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit upon the right +thing. + +Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the +elective system, where you were to choose what study you might take. +This had always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + +"And how was a feller to tell," Solomon John had asked, "whether he +wanted to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out awful +hard!" + +Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood up. He was +at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he would come out a +great scholar, because she could never get him away from his books. + +And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the library, +reading and reading. But they were always the wrong books. + +For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the +Spartan war. + +This turned Agamemnon's attention to the Fenians, and to study the +subject he read up on "Charles O'Malley," and "Harry Lorrequer," and +some later novels of that sort, which did not help him on the subject +required, yet took up all his time, so that he found himself unfitted +for anything else when the examinations came. In consequence he was +requested to leave. + +Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason that +Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was always asked +the questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; if the professors +had only asked something else! + +But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + +Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the things +they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing to take +for students only those who already knew certain things. She thought +Agamemnon might be a professor in a college for those students who +didn't know those things. + +"I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal," she +added, "or they would not have asked you so many questions; they would +have told you something." + +Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he had made +with some of his classmates. They had taken a great deal of trouble to +bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to make a bonfire with, +under one of the professors' windows. Agamemnon had felt it would be a +compliment to the professor. + +It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return from +successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled upon lofty +heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes after distant +adventures. As he plodded back and forward he imagined himself some hero +of antiquity. He was reading "Plutarch's Lives" with deep interest. This +had been recommended at a former college, and he was now taking it up in +the midst of his French course. + +He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in Lynn, +perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and glorify its +heroes. + +For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in +consequence of going back and forward through the snow, carrying the +wood. + +But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor's +room, and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the whole +institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his predecessor, +who gave him his name, must have regretted that other bonfire, on the +shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a daughter. + +The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, after +having been in the institution but a few months. + +He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding about the +hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly at ten o'clock, +but found, afterward, that he should have gone at half-past six. This +hour seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin unseasonable, at a time of year +when the sun was not up, and he would have been obliged to go to the +expense of candles. + +Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever he could +be admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it might be found. +But, after going to five, and leaving each before the year was out, he +gave it up. + +He determined to lay out the money that would have been expended in a +collegiate education in buying an Encyclopdia, the most complete that +he could find, and to spend his life studying it systematically. He +would not content himself with merely reading it, but he would study +into each subject as it came up, and perfect himself in that subject. +By the time, then, that he had finished the Encyclopdia he should have +embraced all knowledge, and have experienced much of it. + +The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of every +subject that came up. + +He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second +column of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. This led +him to the study of music. He bought a flute, and took some lessons, and +attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the piano. This, of course, +distracted him from his work on the Encyclopdia. But he did not wish to +return to A until he felt perfect in music. This required a long time. + +Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was requested +to "see Keys." It was necessary, then, to turn to "Keys." This was +about the time the family were moving, which we have mentioned, when the +difficult subject of keys came up, that suggested to him his own simple +invention, and the hope of getting a patent for it. This led him astray, +as inventions before have done with master-minds, so that he was drawn +aside from his regular study. + +The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career Agamemnon +had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of life, if he should +master the Encyclopdia in a thorough way. + +Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a college +course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different Encyclopdias +that appeared. + +There would be no "spreads" involved; no expense of receiving friends at +entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that it would not +be necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At all the times of +his leaving he had sold out favorably to other occupants. + +Solomon John's destiny was more uncertain. He was looking forward +to being a doctor some time, but he had not decided whether to be +allopathic or homeopathic, or whether he could not better invent his own +pills. And he could not understand how to obtain his doctor's degree. + +For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist's store. But he could +serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it was found +he was not familiar enough with the Latin language to compound the +drugs. He agreed to spend his evenings in studying the Latin grammar; +but his course was interrupted by his being dismissed for treating the +little boys too frequently to soda. + +The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The family had +been much exercised with regard to their education. Elizabeth Eliza +felt that everything should be expected from them; they ought to take +advantage from the family mistakes. Every new method that came up was +tried upon the little boys. + +They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and were +just able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now considered +best that children should not be taught to read till they were ten years +old. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken from +them even then, they might forget what they had learned. But no, the +evil was done; the brain had received certain impressions that could not +be blurred over. + +This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the public +schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling school, and +joined a class in music, and another in dancing; they went to some +afternoon lectures for children, when there was no other school, and +belonged to a walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin was dissatisfied by the +slowness of their progress. He visited the schools himself, and found +that they did not lead their classes. It seemed to him a great deal of +time was spent in things that were not instructive, such as putting on +and taking off their india-rubber boots. + +Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school and +taught by Agamemnon from the Encyclopdia. The rest of the family might +help in the education at all hours of the day. Solomon John could take +up the Latin grammar, and she could give lessons in French. + +The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not want to +have the study-hours all the time. + +Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should make +their life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at breakfast, and +study everything put upon the table,--the material of which it was made, +and where it came from. + +In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study of music, +and from one meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. + +"We shall have the assistance," said Mr. Peterkin, "of Agamemnon, with +his Encyclopdia." + +Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in +their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A. + +"That would not be impossible," said Mr. Peterkin. "There is Amanda, who +will wait on table, to start with--" + +"We could have 'am-and-eggs," suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was +distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and +impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do +was to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers +as they could. + +They could still apply to the Encyclopdia, even if it were not in +Agamemnon's alphabetical course. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the +botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. +The study of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the +butter-dish would bring in geology. + +The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the +cream-jug, and they were promised a potter's wheel directly. + +"You see, my dear," said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, "before many weeks, +we shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children." + +Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "we might begin with botany. That would be +near to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the botany of +butter. On what does the cow feed?" + +The little boys were eager to go out and see. + +"If she eats clover," said Mr. Peterkin, "we shall expect the botany of +clover." + +The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that very +evening they should go out and study the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple breakfast. +The little boys took their note-books and pencils, and clambered upon +the fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + +For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They were +always coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to count them, +and nobody was very sure how many there were. + +There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She looked at +them with large eyes. + +"She won't eat," they cried, "while we are looking at her!" + +So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and seated +themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to time, to see +the cow. + +"Now she is nibbling a clover." + +"No, that is a bit of sorrel." + +"It's a whole handful of grass." + +"What kind of grass?" they exclaimed. + +It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and pretending to +the cow that they were looking into the street, and yet to be looking at +the cow all the time, and finding out what she was eating; and the upper +rail of the fence was narrow and a little sharp. It was very high, +too, for some additional rails had been put on to prevent the cow from +jumping into the garden or street. + +Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw +six legs and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys +disappeared! + +"They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the cow!" + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. Solomon +John and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but stopped, not +knowing what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered herself with a supreme +effort, and sent them out to the rescue. + +But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep the cow +out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the milking had gone +off with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps with the key of the shed +door. Even if that were not locked, before Agamemnon could get round by +the wood-shed and cow-shed, the little boys might be gored through and +through! + +Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the druggist's for +plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through the dining-room to the +wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. Peterkin mounted the outside of the +fence, while Mrs. + +Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high enough +to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported what he saw. + +They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the +little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving. + +The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his +india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + +Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the +grass, still looking at him. + +Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were +next seen running toward it. + +A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with +Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the +time they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the +arms of their mother! + +"This is too dangerous a form of education," she cried; "I had rather +they went to school." + +"No!" they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. + + + + +THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. + +MRS. PETERKIN'S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of +the three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the +educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at +school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon +the subject of education. + +Mrs. Peterkin's spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys +were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were +arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could +be pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These +were planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently +amused himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + +Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. +Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; +that many who could did not answer questions,--the conductors of the +railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations +on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. + +"Yes," said Agamemnon, "one might be a conductor without even knowing +the names of the stations, because you can't understand them when they +do tell them!" + +"I never know," said Elizabeth Eliza, "whether it is ignorance in them, +or unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one +station is coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so +many times. It would be useful if they would tell." + +Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in +Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the +place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have +the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the +conductors "to stop at the farthest crossing." + +Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying +on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no +one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a +breakfast on educational principles. + +A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken +the alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole +alphabet must be represented in one breakfast. + +This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, +Coffee, Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice (on +butter), Jam, Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, Oatmeal, +Pepper, Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Veal-pie, Waffles, +Yeast-biscuit. + +Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. "Excellent!" he cried. "Every +letter represented except Z." Mrs. Peterkin drew from her pocket a +letter from the lady from Philadelphia. "She thought you would call it +X-cellent for X, and she tells us," she read, "that if you come with a +zest, you will bring the Z." + +Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite the +children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a zest, +indeed, it would give to the study of their letters! + +It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + +"How happy," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, "that this should come first of +all! A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had mastered +the first letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the more involved +subjects hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc." + +Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden in +the apple. There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss +independence. The little boys were wild to act William Tell, but Mrs. +Peterkin was afraid of the arrows. Mrs. + +Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, then +discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps first +historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first apple. + +Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the griddles +were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at home on the +marmalade, because the quinces came from grandfather's, and she had seen +them planted; she remembered all about it, and now the bush came up to +the sitting-room window. + +She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where the +granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite recollected +why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it took you almost +the whole day to stew them, and then you might as well set them on +again. + +Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at grandfather's. +In order to know thoroughly about apples, they ought to understand the +making of cider. + +Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather's, scarcely twelve +miles away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should not the family +go this very day up to grandfather's, and continue the education of the +breakfast? + +"Why not indeed?" exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather's +would give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard to the +cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, even to +follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + +It was suggested, too, that at grandfather's they might study the +processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + +Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: they were +both the products of trees--the apple-tree and the maple. Mr. Peterkin +proposed that the lesson for the day should be considered the study of +trees, and on the way they could look at other trees. + +Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the present. +Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely be in a hurry +for dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day before them. + +Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for luncheon. + +But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could hardly +take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as the little +boys did not take up much room. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at +grandfather's. + +Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object to +staying some days. This would make it easier about coming home, but it +did not settle the difficulty in getting there. + +Why not "Ride and Tie"? + +The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and Agamemnon +and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit +in the carriage, when it was waiting for the pedestrians to come up; or, +she said, she did not object to a little turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin +would start, with Solomon John and the little boys, before the rest, +and Agamemnon should drive his mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first +stopping-place. + +Then came up another question,--of Elizabeth Eliza's trunk. If she stayed +a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be hot, and it +might be cold. + +Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her heaviest +wraps. + +You never could depend upon the weather. Even "Probabilities" got you no +farther than to-day. + +In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the +expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left the +table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself with +Amanda over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon +went to order the horse and the expressman, and Solomon John and the +little boys prepared themselves for a pedestrian excursion. + +Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so +many things she might want, and then again she might not. She must +put up her music, because her grandfather had a piano; and then she +bethought herself of Agamemnon's flute, and decided to pick out a volume +or two of the Encyclopdia. But it was hard to decide, all by herself, +whether to take G for griddle-cakes, or M for maple-syrup, or T for +tree. She would take as many as she could make room for. + +She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must take +some French books she had never yet found time to read. This involved +taking her French dictionary, as she doubted if her grandfather had one. +She ought to put in a "Botany," if they were to study trees; but she +could not tell which, so she would take all there were. She might as +well take all her dresses, and it was no harm if one had too many wraps. +When she had her trunk packed, she found it over-full; it was difficult +to shut it. She had heard Solomon John set out from the front door with +his father and the little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse +at the side door, so there was no use in calling for help. She got upon +the trunk; she jumped upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, +found she could lock it! Yes, it was really locked. + +But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been caught +in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was worse, she was so +fastened to the trunk that she could not lean forward far enough to +turn the key back, to unlock the trunk and release herself! The lock had +slipped easily, but she could not now get hold of the key in the right +way to turn it back. + +She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She +called for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the trunk. But +her door was shut. + +Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the door, +to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, in her +constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she +would have been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her +travelling-dress, and too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. +Alas, she had packed her scissors, and her knife she had lent to the +little boys the day before! She called again. What silence there was in +the house! Her voice seemed to echo through the room. At length, as she +listened, she heard the sound of wheels. + +Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear the +front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to "have the day." +But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to Amanda, to explain to +her to wait for the expressman. She was to have told her as she went +downstairs. But she had not been able to go downstairs! And Amanda must +have supposed that all the family had left, and she, too, must have +gone, knowing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard +the front door shut! + +But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she had +proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be +picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in +time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,--that she +had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon +discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not +finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed. +She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all +her books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She +tried to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family. +They were good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge. +But suppose they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge, +as they often did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them, +her mother would not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother +should decide to leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping +and waiting for the first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no +one would be left to tell the rest, when they should come up to the +carryall. They might go on so, through the whole journey, without +meeting, and she might not be missed till they should reach her +grandfather's! + +Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman +would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get +into the house! + +She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut +up in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not +when she should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the +"Mistletoe Bough." She had been one of the "guests," who had sung "Oh, +the Mistletoe Bough," and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the +side-scenes how the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the +trunk then was only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa, +and this was a stern reality. + +It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather's. +Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy +she was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move +the trunk toward the door. + +In vain. All was still. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why +Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with +Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things +into the carriage,--a basket of lunch, a change of shoes for Mr. +Peterkin, some extra wraps,--everything Mrs. + +Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth Eliza +did not come. "I think she must have walked on with your father," she +said, at last; "you had better get in." Agamemnon now got in. "I should +think she would have mentioned it," she continued; "but we may as well +start on, and pick her up!" + +They started off. "I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to Amanda, +but we must ask her when we come up with her." + +But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond the +village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting manner against +a tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave missives for each other as +they passed on. This note informed them that the walking party was going +to take the short cut across the meadows, and would still be in front +of them. They saw the party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. +Peterkin was explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as +they stood around a large specimen. + +"I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a 'Quercus,'" said +Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an +expression, but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of the +party, however, were behind the tree, some were in front, and Elizabeth +Eliza might be behind the tree. They were too far off to be shouted at. +Mrs. Peterkin was calmed, and went on to the stopping-lace agreed upon, +which they reached before long. This had been appointed near Farmer +Gordon's barn, that there might be somebody at hand whom they knew, in +case there should be any difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had +been that Mrs. Peterkin should always sit in the carriage, while the +others should take turns for walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a +fence, and left her comfortably arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she +had risen so early to prepare for the alphabetical breakfast, and had +since been so tired with preparations, that she was quite sleepy, and +would not object to a nape in the shade, by the soothing sound of the +buzzing of the flies. But she called Agamemnon back, as he started off +for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question: + +"Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated +in the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth +Eliza gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have +expected that she--Mrs. Peterkin--would walk on to the next stopping- +place!" + +She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest +passed her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting cheerfully. +It was a little joggly in the carriage, she had already found, for +the horse was restless from the flies, and she did not like being left +alone. + +She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, but +the sun became hot, and it was not long before she was fatigued. When +they reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to rest upon one of the +hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at the other end of the field, +and they were seated there when the carryall passed them in the road. +Mrs. Peterkin waved parasol and hat, and the party in the carryall +returned their greetings, but they were too far apart to hear each +other. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + +"Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall," she said, "and +that will explain all." + +But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent +stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A note +was pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it was +"prime fun." + +In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. Peterkin +felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the carryall +missed her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a house to rest, and +for a glass of water. + +She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The party +had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided all should +meet at the foot of grandfather's hill, that they might all arrive at +the house together. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all the +way, as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. Peterkin's +last walk had been so slow, that the other party was far in advance and +reached the stopping-place before them. The little boys were all rowed +out on the stone fence, awaiting them, full of delight at having reached +grandfather's. Mr. + +Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. +Peterkin, exclaimed: "Where is Elizabeth Eliza?" Each party looked +eagerly at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be seen. Where was she? +What was to be done? Was she left behind? Mrs. Peterkin was convinced +she must have somehow got to grandfather's. They hurried up the hill. +Grandfather and all the family came out to greet them, for they had been +seen approaching. There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + +It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin stood +and looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late to send back +for Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + +Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the object +of their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking up and down +the road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were explaining to each other +the details of their journeys, they had discovered some facts. + +"We shall have to go back," they exclaimed. "We are too late! The +maple-syrup was all made last spring." + +"We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months,--the cider +is not made till October." + +The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of neither +maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, perhaps forever! +The sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin still stood to look up and +down the road. + +... Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, as it +seemed for ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of prisoners,--how +they had watched the growth of flowers through cracks in the pavement. +She wondered how long she could live without eating. How thankful she +was for her abundant breakfast! + +At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to +answer it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was +impossible! + +How singular!--there were footsteps. Some one was going to the door; some +one had opened it. "They must be burglars." Well, perhaps that was a +better fate--to be gagged by burglars, and the neighbors informed--than +to be forever locked on her trunk. The steps approached the door. It +opened, and Amanda ushered in the expressman. + +Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the +breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she must +receive. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the key +of her trunk, and she was released! + +What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had given up +all hope of her family returning for her. But how could she reach them? + +She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until she +should come up with some of the family. At least she would fall in with +either the walking party or the carryall, or she would meet them if they +were on their return. + +She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took their +way, stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + +But much to Elizabeth Eliza's dismay, they turned off from the main road +on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver insisted he +must go round by Millikin's to leave a bedstead. They went round +by Millikin's, and then had further turns to make. Elizabeth Eliza +explained that in this way it would be impossible for her to find her +parents and family, and at last he proposed to take her all the way with +her trunk. She remembered with a shudder that when she had first asked +about her trunk, he had promised it should certainly be delivered the +next morning. Suppose they should have to be out all night? Where did +express-carts spend the night? She thought of herself in a lone wood, +in an express-wagon! She could hardly bring herself to ask, before +assenting, when he should arrive. + +"He guessed he could bring up before night." + +And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset +were looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about the lost +Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. A female form +sat upon the front seat. + +"She has decided to come by express," said Mrs. Peterkin. "It is--it +is--Elizabeth Eliza!" + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT THE "CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS" IN BOSTON. + +THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about the carnival +of authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was announced, their +interests were excited, and they determined that all the family should +go. + +But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they supposed +that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza thought their +lessons in the foreign languages would help them much in conversing in +character. + +As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there would be +time to read up everything written by all the authors, in order to be +acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. Peterkin did not +wish to begin too early upon the reading, for she was sure she should +forget all that the different authors had written before the day came. + +But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time enough, +as it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had given up her +French lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and had, indeed, +concluded she had learned in them all she should need to know of that +language. She could repeat one or two pages of phrases, and she was +astonished to find how much she could understand already of what the +French teacher said to her; and he assured her that when she went to +Paris she could at least ask the price of gloves, or of some other +things she would need, and he taught her, too, how to pronounce +"garon," in calling for more. + +Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might make +themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys were already +acquainted with "Mother Goose." Mr. Peterkin had read the "Pickwick +Papers," and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Longfellow getting into +a horse-car. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give lectures +upon the "Arabian Nights." Everybody else was planning something of the +sort, to "raise funds" for some purpose, and she was sure they ought not +to be behindhand. Mrs. + +Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise +funds enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they +could go every night. + +Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the funds +for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds enough they +might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and take the carnival +comfortably. + +But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were authors, and +only authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had once started upon +writing a book, but he was not able to think of anything to put in it, +and nothing had occurred to him yet. + +Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could come +out before the carnival he could go as an author, and might have a booth +of his own, and take his family. + +But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an author. You +might indeed publish something, but you had to make sure that it would +be read. Mrs. + +Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled with +books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For herself, +she had not read half the books in their own library. And she was glad +there was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might know who they +were. + +Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a "Carnival"; but +he supposed they should find out when they went to it. + +Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed looking +over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some suitable +dresses there, and these would suggest what characters they should take. +Elizabeth Eliza was pleased with this thought. She remembered an old +turban of white mull muslin, in an old bandbox, and why should not her +mother wear it? + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own grandmother. + +Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the East, and +Mrs. + +Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John thought she +might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. Among the treasures +found were some old bonnets, of large size, with waving plumes. +Elizabeth Eliza decided upon the largest of these. + +She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John was to take +the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was planning to enter +upon the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was a little afraid of +sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great while finding the shore. + +Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a +coal-hod that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher Columbus +was born in Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian he had lately +learned of his teacher. + +As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + +Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a happy +thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would come in play, +and he was quite sure that his own family name made him kin to that of +the great Czar. He studied up the life in the Encyclopdia, and decided +to take the costume of a ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and +some of the docks; but none of them gave him the true idea of dress for +ship-building in Holland or St. Petersburg. + +But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a +broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a costumer's, +and with Elizabeth Eliza's black waterproof was satisfied with his own +appearance. + +Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in some +Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large bonnet, but she +had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs on their heads, and +she might wear her own muff. + +Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of false +curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed over her +black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much like the +picture of their great-grandmother. But doubtless Cleopatra resembled +this picture, as it was all so long ago, so the rest of the family +decided. + +Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as represented in one +of the little boys' arks, was simple. His father's red-lined dressing +gown, turned inside out, permitted it easily. + +Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a long dress +of yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the little boys. For +the little boys were to represent two doves and a raven. There were +feather-dusters enough in the family for their costumes, which would be +then complete with their india-rubber boots. + +Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher Columbus. +He had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his pocket, proposing to +repeat, through the evening, the scene of setting the egg on its end. +He gave up the plan of a boat, as it must be difficult to carry one into +town; so he contented himself by practising the motion of landing by +stepping up on a chair. + +But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, as +Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if it were +not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to take an ark +into town as Solomon John's boat. + +The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the hall +late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as they +stopped at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found themselves +entangled with a number of people in costume coming out from a +dressing-room below. Mr. Peterkin was much encouraged. They were thus +joining the performers. The band was playing the "Wedding March" as they +went upstairs to a door of the hall which opened upon one side of the +stage. Here a procession was marching up the steps of the stage, all in +costume, and entering behind the scenes. + +"We are just in the right time," whispered Mr. Peterkin to his family; +"they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line." The little boys +had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from one of the managers +made Peterkin understand the situation. + +"We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens," he said. + +"I thought he was dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + +"Authors live forever!" said Agamemnon in her ear. + +At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage manager +glared at them, as he awaited their names for introduction, while they +came up all unannounced,--a part of the programme not expected. But he +uttered the words upon his lips, "Great Expectations;" and the Peterkin +family swept across the stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as +Peter the Great, Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon +John as Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. +Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. Columbus, +and the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + +Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then following +the rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the audience, they +went; but into an audience not dressed in costume! + +There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,--all the neighbors,--all +as natural as though they were walking the streets at home, though Ann +Maria did wear white gloves. + +"I had no idea you were to appear in character," said Ann Maria to +Elizabeth Eliza; "to what booth do you belong?" + +"We are no particular author," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Ah, I see, a sort of varieties' booth," said Mr. Osborne. + +"What is your character?" asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + +"I have not quite decided," said Elizabeth Eliza. "I thought I should +find out after I came here. The marshal called us 'Great Expectations.'" + +Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. "I have shaken hands with +Dickens!" she exclaimed. + +But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken +hands with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + +They had been swept off in Mother Goose's train, which had lingered on +the steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the procession of +characters in costume had closed. At this moment they were dancing +round the barberry bush, in a corner of the balcony in Mother Goose's +quarters, their feather-dusters gayly waving in the air. + +But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled herself +with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the grand closing +tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which swept her hither and +thither. At last she found herself in the Whittier Booth, and sat a long +time calmly there. As Cleopatra she seemed out of place, but as her own +grandmother she answered well with its New England scenery. + +Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he found a +chance to enter a booth. Once before an admiring audience he set up his +egg in the centre of the Goethe Booth, which had been deserted by its +committee for the larger stage. + +Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the Arabian +Nights. + +It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going +on the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups +represented there. + +Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the "Dream of Fair Women," at its +most culminating point. + +Mr. Peterkin found himself with the "Cricket on the Hearth," in the +Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but always in +the Russian language, which was never understood. + +Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every manager +was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to some other, and she +passed along, always trying to explain that she had not yet decided upon +her character. + +Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + +"I cannot understand," he said, "why none of our friends are dressed in +costume, and why we are." + +"I rather like it," said Elizabeth Eliza, "though I should be better +pleased if I could form a group with some one." + +The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join the +performers. It was the dance of her youth. + +But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led to the +stage. + +"I cannot understand this company," he said, distractedly. + +"They cannot find their booth," said another. + +"That is the case," said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + +"Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor," said a polite marshal. + +They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the +refreshment-room. + +"This is the booth for us," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Indeed it is," said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + +At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,--the little boys, who had +been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose's establishment, and now came down +for ice-cream. + +"I hardly know how to sit down," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for I am sure +Mrs. Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. Shem, I will +venture it." + +Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon arranged in +a row, calmly eating ice-cream. + +"I think the truth is," said Mr. Peterkin, "that we represent historical +people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters in books. That +is, I observe, what the others are. We shall know better another time." + +"If we only ever get home," said Mrs. Peterkin, "I shall not wish to +come again. It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it +is so bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going +round and round in this way." + +"I am afraid we shall never reach home," said Agamemnon, who had been +silent for some time; "we may have to spend the night here. I find I +have lost our checks for our clothes in the cloak-room!" + +"Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra's turban!" exclaimed Mrs. +Peterkin. + +"We should like to come every night," cried the little boys. + +"But to spend the night," repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + +"I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"But never to recover our cloaks," said Mrs. Peterkin; "could not the +little boys look round for the checks on the floors?" + +She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might never +see again. + +She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,--her grandmother's,--that +Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have made into a foot-rug. Now +how she wished she had! And there were Mr. Peterkin's new overshoes, +and Agamemnon had brought an umbrella, and the little boys had their +mittens. Their india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the +character of birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth +Eliza a muff. Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home +in the cold without them? No, it would be better to wait till everybody +had gone, and then look carefully over the floors for the checks; if +only the little boys could know where Agamemnon had been, they were +willing to look. Mr. Peterkin was not sure as they would have time to +reach the train. + +Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the +time. He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and he +thought it would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear it. + +At this moment the strains of "Home, Sweet Home" were heard from the +band, and people were seen preparing to go. + +"All can go home, but we must stay," said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, as +the well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + +A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at them, +whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + +"Can we do anything for you?" asked one at last. "Would you not like to +go?" He seemed eager they should leave the room. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the +checks for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor when +everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not describe +what they had worn, in which case the loss of the checks was not so +important, as the crowds had now almost left, and it would not be +difficult to identify their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin eagerly declared she +could describe every article. + +It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the quickly +deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their garments! Mrs. +Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness of the marshals; she +feared they had some pretext for getting the family out of the hall. +Mrs. Peterkin was one of those who never consent to be forced to +anything. She would not be compelled to go home, even with strains of +music. She whispered her suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came +hastily up to announce the time, which he had learned from the clock +in the large hall. They must leave directly if they wished to catch the +latest train, as there was barely time to reach it. + +Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss the +train! + +If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She +was the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed her, +just in time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + +The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of their +friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so they had +many questions put to them which they were unable to answer. Still Mrs. +Peterkin's turban was much admired, and indeed the whole appearance +of the family; so that they felt themselves much repaid for their +exertions. + +But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their +friends; but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, they +walked very slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys were sent +on with the pass-key to open the door. They soon returned with the +startling intelligence that it was not the right key, and they could not +get in. It was Mr. Peterkin's office-key; he had taken it by mistake, or +he might have dropped the house-key in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + +"Must we go back?" sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. More +than ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon's invention in keys +had failed to secure a patent! + +It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been allowed to +go and spend the night with a friend, so there was no use in ringing, +though the little boys had tried it. + +"We can return to the station," said Mr. Peterkin; "the rooms will be +warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think what we +shall do next." + +At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the New +York midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the train went +through at half-past. + +"I saw lights at the locksmith's over the way, as I passed," he said; +"why do not you send over to the young man there? He can get your door +open for you. I never would spend the night here." + +Solomon John went over to "the young man," who agreed to go up to the +house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open the door, +and come back to them on his way home. Solomon John came back to the +station, for it was now cold and windy in the deserted streets. The +family made themselves as comfortable as possible by the stove, sending +Solomon John out occasionally to look for the young man. But somehow +Solomon John missed him; the lights were out in the locksmith's shop, so +he followed along to the house, hoping to find him there. + +But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young man had +opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and Agamemnon went back +together, but they could not get in. Where was the young man? He had +lately come to town, and nobody knew where he lived, for on the return +of Solomon John and Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of +the young man. The night was wearing on. + +The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came and went +looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her turban, as she sat +by the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last the station-master +had to leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to lock up the station, +but he promised to return at an early hour to release them. + +"Of what use," said Elizabeth Eliza, "if we cannot even then get into +our own house?" + +Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had left +town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and helped himself to +spoons, and left. + +Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. +Solomon John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only ventured to +whisper his suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse Mrs. Peterkin, who +still was nodding in the corner of the long bench. + +Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; +perhaps by some effort in the early daylight they might make an +entrance. + +On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his beat. +He stopped when he saw the family. + +"Ah! that accounts," he said; "you were all out last night, and the +burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a lively +young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had been a +minute late he would have made his way in"--The family then tried to +interrupt--to explain--"Where is he?" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. + +"Safe in the lock-up," answered the policeman. + +"But he is the locksmith!" interrupted Solomon John. + +"We have no key!" said Elizabeth Eliza; "if you have locked up the +locksmith we can never get in." + +The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he +understood the case. + +"The locksmith!" he exclaimed; "he is a new fellow, and I did not +recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, +that he may let you in!" and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin +family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + +"It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him," said Mr. +Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the +house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he +appear so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in +the closet of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, +and, almost as soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released +locksmith, and a few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. + +The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the +policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, +pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the +family could go in. + +Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. +Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. "I shall never go to another +carnival!" she exclaimed. + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. + +YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and +deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly +postponed. + +But here they were at last, at the "Old Farm," so called, where seaside +attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they +were to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of +Ann Maria Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them +there, though she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very +next day. + +Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole +thing had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be +sure, had not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, +wonderful to tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. + +Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and +the volumes of the Encyclopdia that might tell him how to manage it, +and Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used +their india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and +carrying one in each hand,--a very convenient way for travelling they +considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their +boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat +inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room +enough could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted +to them. + +There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and camera. +Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of the machine +going off; so an out-house was found for them, where Agamemnon and +Solomon John could arrange them. + +Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and +low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little stuffy at +first. + +Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the farm +was evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he gave himself +to examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and the fields and +vegetable gardens, which were shown to him by a highly intelligent +person, a Mr. Atwood, who devoted himself to explaining to Mr. Peterkin +all the details of methods in the farming. + +The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, when +they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach the beach. +The advertisements had surely stated that the "Old Farm" was directly on +the shore, and that sea-bathing would be exceedingly convenient; which +was hardly the case if it took you an hour and a half to walk to it. + +Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies between the +advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; but he was more +than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to remain and admire it, +while the rest of the family went to find the beach, starting off in a +wagon large enough to accommodate them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + +Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the family in +a row on the beach; but he decided not to take his camera out the first +afternoon. + +This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached the +beach. + +"If this wagon were not so shaky," said Mrs. Peterkin "we might drive +over every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, and I +suppose Agamemnon can turn on the beach." + +"We should have to spend the whole day about it," said Solomon John, in +a discouraged tone, "unless we can have a quicker horse." + +"Perhaps we should prefer that," said Elizabeth Eliza, a little +gloomily, "to staying at the house." + +She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant and +fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was disappointed that +the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would understand the ways of the +place. Yet, again, she was somewhat relieved, for if their trunks did +not come till the next day, as was feared, she should have nothing but +her travelling dress to wear, which would certainly answer for to-night. + +She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses for +this very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would hardly need +them, and was disappointed to have no chance to display them. But of +course, when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria came, all would be different; +but they would surely be wasted on the two old ladies she had seen, and +on the old men who had lounged about the porch; there surely was not a +gentleman among them. + +Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as gentlemen +wore their exercise dress, and took a pride in going around in shocking +hats and flannel suits. Doubtless they would be dressed for dinner on +their return. + +On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals by +themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating dinner or +lunch. There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, that might come +under either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were well pleased. + +"I had no idea we should have really farm-fare," Mrs. Peterkin said. "I +have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young." + +Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first meal, as +evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in spite of the +numerous letters that had been exchanged. + +The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment of +their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining to go +to the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and horses; and all +the way over to the beach the other little boys were hopping in and out +of the wagon, which never went too fast, to pick long mullein-stalks, +for whips to urge on the reluctant horse with, or to gather +huckleberries, with which they were rejoiced to find the fields were +filled, although, as yet, the berries were very green. + +They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; +but Mrs. + +Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it +was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + +On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the +same old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. + +"A little seedy, I should say," said Solomon John. + +"Smoking pipes," said Agamemnon; "I believe that is the latest style." + +"The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable," Mrs. Peterkin was +forced to say. + +There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where they were +to be put, and as to their meals. + +Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, who +were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them was +very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered from +a moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort of +factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of +invalids to appear. + +"Regular bed-ridden," Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza +did not consider respectful. + +Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the +house, very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it in +admirable order. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and +ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and +tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted +that it was to be "tea," and if they were unused to a late dinner they +might be disturbed if they had only provided a "tea." + +So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised when +Martha replied, "The lady must say," nodding to Mrs. Peterkin. "She can +have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!" + +This was an unexpected courtesy. + +Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + +"Oh, they took it a long time ago," Martha answered. "If the lady will +go out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants." + +"Bring us in what you have," said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry. +"If you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well." + +"Perhaps some eggs," murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Scrambled," cried one of the little boys. + +"Fried potatoes would not be bad," suggested Agamemnon. + +"Couldn't we have some onions?" asked the little boy who had stayed +at home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their +supper. + +"A pie would come in well," said Solomon John. + +"And some stewed cherries," said the other little boy. + +Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, when, +in the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended appeared. +Their appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food the same. + +"This is true Arab hospitality," said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his juicy +beefsteak. + +"I know it," said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. "We have +not even seen the host and hostess." + +She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her when the +Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room was in +the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the aged deaf +and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by perplexed +thoughts. + +She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances, would +have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or the +Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to? She +fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both +parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any use +in sending to the Sylvesters' usual address, which she knew well by this +time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would +know they had not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + +She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. +Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where people were +going to, and where to send their letters. She might, at least, write +two letters, to say that they--the Peterkins--had arrived, and were +disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she could add that their +trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their friends might look out for +them on their way. It really seemed a good plan to write. Yet +another question came up, as to how she would get her letters to the +post-office, as she had already learned it was at quite a distance, and +in a different direction from the station, where they were to send the +next day for their trunks. + +She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the coughing +and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin partition. + +She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by the +morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of fowl. + +Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and +declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + +They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach +only in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was +appointed at noon. + +Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. "Such a straight road, and the beach +such a safe place to turn round upon!" + +Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the +station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably +left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been +switched off upon one of the White Mountain trains. There was no use to +write any letters, as there was no way to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now +almost hoped the Sylvesters would not come, for what should she do if +the trunks did not come and all her new dresses? On her way over to the +beach she had been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and +cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their time +was spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she would +prefer that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses and the +trunks did. All she could find out, from inquiry, on returning, +was, "that another lot was expected on Saturday." The next day she +suggested:--"Suppose we take our dinner with us to the beach, and spend +the day." The Sylvesters and Ann Maria then would find them on the +beach, where her travelling-dress would be quite appropriate. "I am a +little tired," she added, "of going back and forward over the same road; +but when the rest come we can vary it." + +The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys remained to +go over the farm again. + +They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a ledge +of sand. + +They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of people +approaching from the other end of the beach. + +"I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last," said Elizabeth +Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + +As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria Bromwick! And with +her were the Sylvesters,--so they proved to be, for she had never seen +them before. + +"What! you have come in our absence!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And we have been wondering what had become of you!" cried Ann Maria. + +"I thought you would be at the farm before us," said Elizabeth Eliza to +Mr. + +Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + +"We have been looking for you at the farm," he was saying to her. + +"But we are at the farm," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And so are we!" said Ann Maria. + +"We have been there two days," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"And so have we, at the 'Old Farm,' just at the end of the beach," said +Ann Maria. + +"Our farm is old enough," said Solomon John. + +"Whereabouts are you?" asked Mr. Sylvester. + +Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + +A smile came over Mr. Sylvester's face; he knew the country well. + +"You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?" he +asked. + +The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + +Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over the +faces of all the party. + +"Why, that is the Poor-house!" she exclaimed. + +"The town farm," Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + +The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to +laugh. + +"There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women there!" said +Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + +"But we have surely been made very comfortable," Mrs. Peterkin declared. + +"A very simple mistake," said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his amusement. +"Your trunks arrived all right at the 'Old Farm,' two days ago." + +"Let us go back directly," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"As directly as our horse will allow," said Agamemnon. + +Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. "Your rooms are awaiting you," +he said. "Why not come with us?" + +"We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else," said Mrs. +Peterkin. + +They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, "Do you suppose +they took us for paupers?" + +"We have not seen any 'they,'" said Solomon John, "except Mr. Atwood." + +At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + +"I have been looking for you," he said. "I have just made a discovery." + +"We have made it, too," said Elizabeth Eliza; "we are in the +poor-house." + +"How did you find it out?" Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + +"Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been brought to +him from the station, which he ought to have got two days ago. It came +from a Mr. Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his +wife and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to +say he cannot come till Friday. Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the +Peterses, whom he had sent for the day we arrived, not having received +this telegram." + +"Oh, I see, I see!" said Mrs. Peterkin; "and we did get into a muddle at +the station!" + +Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. "I beg pardon," he said. "I hope you +have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you stay till +Mr. Peters' family comes." + +At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with an +open wagon, to take the Peterkins to the "Old Farm." + +Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, "Beg +pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and putting you +in that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to take you off every +day with the other gentlemen, that looked so wandering." + +Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + +Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till +Friday. But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave with Mr. +Sylvester, and to take their electrical machine and camera when they +came for Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened once more +by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. There was not much +packing to be done. She shouted good-by into the ears of the deaf old +lady, and waved her hand to the foreign one, and glad to bid farewell to +the old men with their pipes, leaning against the porch. + +"This time," she said, "it is not our trunks that were lost" + +"But we, as a family," said Mrs. Peterkin. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + +***** This file should be named 3028-8.txt or 3028-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/3028/ + +Produced by David Reed + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hale + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Peterkin Papers + +Author: Lucretia P. Hale + +Release Date: October 27, 2009 [EBook #3028] +Last Updated: November 7, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS AN ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25648"> +[# 25648 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE PETERKIN PAPERS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Lucretia P. Hale + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + Dedicated + </p> + <p> + To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) + </p> + <p> + To Whom These Stories Were First Told + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin + Papers </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN + BOSTON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + </h2> + <p> + THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for the + “Young Folks.” They were afterwards continued in numbers of the “St. + Nicholas.” + </p> + <p> + A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never + before been published, “The Peterkins at the Farm.” + </p> + <p> + It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about + publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter + to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she might + happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, and + everybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, and help + it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and all her + servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take so + long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could they + get the whole subject on a postal? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but one + question:— + </p> + <p> + Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + </p> + <p> + This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family to sign, + the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of their + india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to the + post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day, and + all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers on postals + and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady from + Philadelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been read by + their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it must have + been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals and + letters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in the + same tone: “Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family.” + </p> + <p> + “Publish them, of course.” + </p> + <p> + And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:—“Yes, of + course; publish them.” + </p> + <p> + This is why they were published. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. + </h2> + <p> + THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious + cup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found + she had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? + Of course she couldn’t drink the coffee; so she called in the family, for + she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in; they + all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and all sat down + to think. + </p> + <p> + At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, “Why don’t we go over + and ask the advice of the chemist?” (For the chemist lived over the way, + and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, “Yes,” and Mr. Peterkin + said, “Very well,” and all the children said they would go too. So the + little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went. + </p> + <p> + Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turn + everything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle into + which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuable things, + and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost found what he + wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now he had used up + all the gold that he had round the house, and gold was high. He had used + up his wife’s gold thimble and his great-grandfather’s gold-bowed + spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of his + great-great-grandfather’s cane; and, just as the Peterkin family came in, + he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him have her + wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knew he + should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; and then + she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeralds and + rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into the finest + of gold. + </p> + <p> + Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in. You + can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing his crucible—that + was the name of his melting-pot—at their heads. But he didn’t. He + listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs. Peterkin had put + salt in her coffee. + </p> + <p> + At first he said he couldn’t do anything about it; but when Agamemnon said + they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up his bottles in a + leather case, and went back with them all. + </p> + <p> + First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a + little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it + tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. But + Mrs. Peterkin didn’t like that. Then he added some tartaric acid and some + hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. “I have it!” exclaimed + the chemist,—“a little ammonia is just the thing!” No, it wasn’t the + thing at all. + </p> + <p> + Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric, + chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic, + nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and said + the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then he + tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clear + bitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. This + gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist + was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some + granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing + off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not satisfied. + </p> + <p> + The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the salt. + The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed. Perhaps + a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all the time he + could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all much obliged + to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold was now 2.69 3/4, + so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave Agamemnon a pretty + little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there was the coffee! All + sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Why don’t we go to the + herb-woman?” Elizabeth Eliza was the only daughter. She was named after + her two aunts,—Elizabeth, from the sister of her father; Eliza, from + her mother’s sister. Now, the herb-woman was an old woman who came round + to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They all shouted with joy at the + idea of asking her, and Solomon John and the younger children agreed to go + and find her too. The herb-woman lived down at the very end of the street; + so the boys put on their india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It + was a long walk through the village, but they came at last to the + herb-woman’s house, at the foot of a high hill. They went through her + little garden. Here she had marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and + tall sunflowers, and all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air + was full of tansy-tea and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and + a brandy-cherry tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung + its delicious fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, + which smelt very spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and + peppermint, and all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the + ceiling; and on the shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the + like. + </p> + <p> + But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to get + some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow her,—Elizabeth + Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to climb up over high + rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black berry-vines. But the + little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last they discovered the + little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was steeple-crowned, + without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel round a sassafras + bush. They told her their story,—-how their mother had put salt in + her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead of better, and + how their mother couldn’t drink it, and wouldn’t she come and see what she + could do? And she said she would, and took up her little old apron, with + pockets all round, all filled with everlasting and pennyroyal, and went + back to her house. + </p> + <p> + There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all the kinds + of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seed and dill, + spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil and rosemary, + wild thyme and some of the other time,—-such as you have in clocks,—sappermint + and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, there isn’t a kind of + herb you can think of that the little old woman didn’t have done up in her + little paper bags, that had all been dried in her little Dutch-oven. She + packed these all up, and then went back with the children, taking her + stick. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, and + began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop for + the bitter. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then she + tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, and some + caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoram and + sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint and peppermint, + some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, some tansy and basil, + and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, and pennyroyal. The + children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadful faces. Mrs. + Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old woman stirred, and the + more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + </p> + <p> + So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and said she + must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up her packets + of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick, and went + back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in the air and half + out. And all she would take for pay was five cents in currency. + </p> + <p> + Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while. It + was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn’t had her cup of + coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, “They say that the lady from + Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and ask + her what is best to be done.” To this they all agreed, it was a great + thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + </p> + <p> + She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,—how her mother + had put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he + tried everything but could make it no better; and how they went for the + little old herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother + couldn’t drink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very + attentively, and then said, “Why doesn’t your mother make a fresh cup of + coffee?” Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finished his + sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. “Why didn’t we think of + that?” said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to their mother, and + she had her cup of coffee. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. + </h2> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of + the postmaster’s daughter. + </p> + <p> + They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and + the carters brought it in, and went away. + </p> + <p> + After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but they + found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the middle of + the room, standing close against the window. + </p> + <p> + How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play + upon it? + </p> + <p> + Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which Agamemnon + could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon the + piazza, and open the piano. Then she could have her music-stool on the + piazza, and play upon the piano there. + </p> + <p> + So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to see + Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the piazza, with + the honeysuckle vines behind her. + </p> + <p> + It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked to take + a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family liked to sit on + the piazza. + </p> + <p> + So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + </p> + <p> + All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall came, Mr. + Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open window, and the family + did not want to sit out on the piazza. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was + obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so. + </p> + <p> + One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, she spoke + of this trouble. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, “But why don’t + you turn the piano round?” + </p> + <p> + One of the little boys pertly said, “It is a square piano.” + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of Agamemnon + and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + </p> + <p> + “Why did we not think of that before?” said Mrs. Peterkin. “What shall we + do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. + </h2> + <p> + THEY were sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they + should do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. “If,” said + Mrs. Peterkin, “we could only be more wise as a family!” How could they + manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the children all went to + school; but still as a family they were not wise. “It comes from books,” + said one of the family. “People who have a great many books are very + wise.” Then they counted up that there were very few books in the house,—a + few school-books and Mrs. Peterkin’s cook-book were all. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the thing!” said Agamemnon. “We want a library.” + </p> + <p> + “We want a library!” said Solomon John. And all of them exclaimed, “We + want a library!” + </p> + <p> + “Let us think how we shall get one,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I have observed + that other people think a great deal of thinking.” + </p> + <p> + So they all sat and thought a great while. + </p> + <p> + Then said Agamemnon, “I will make a library. There are some boards in the + wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails, and perhaps we can borrow + some hinges, and there we have our library!” + </p> + <p> + They were all very much pleased at the idea. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the book-case part,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “but where are the + books?” + </p> + <p> + So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, “I + will make a book!” + </p> + <p> + They all looked at him in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Solomon John, “books will make us wise, but first I must make + a book.” + </p> + <p> + So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But there was + no ink. + </p> + <p> + What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that + nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make some. The + little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the woods. So they + all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins put on her + cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and + off they went. + </p> + <p> + The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else in the + woods,—chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a great + many squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they found any + nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket and two nutgalls in + it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. Peterkin had used her very + last on some beets they had the day before. “Suppose we go and ask the + minister’s wife,” said Elizabeth Eliza. So they all went to the minister’s + wife. She said if they wanted some good vinegar they had better set a + barrel of cider down in the cellar, and in a year or two it would make + very nice vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very afternoon. When + the minister’s wife heard this, she said she should be very glad to let + them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry home. + </p> + <p> + So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they had + very good ink. + </p> + <p> + Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, but Solomon + John said, “Poets always used quills.” Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they + should go out to the poultry-yard and get a quill. But it was already + dark. They had, however, two lanterns, and the little boys borrowed the + neighbors’. They set out in procession for the poultry-yard. When they got + there, the fowls were all at roost, so they could look at them quietly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. + </h2> + <p> + But there were no geese! There were Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and + Guinea hens, and Barbary hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, and + bantams, and ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! “No geese but + ourselves,” said Mrs. Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. + The sight of this procession roused up the village. “A torchlight + procession!” cried all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the + house, shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, and + give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them that it + was only his family visiting his hens. + </p> + <p> + After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of his + writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore to get a + quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was just shutting up + his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and + they hurried home. + </p> + <p> + So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And now the + bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the mail was about in, + and perhaps he should have a letter, and then they could use the envelope + to write upon. So they all went to the post-office, and the little boys + had their india-rubber boots on, and they all shouted when they found Mr. + Peterkin had a letter. The postmaster inquired what they were shouting + about; and when they told him, he said he would give Solomon John a whole + sheet of paper for his book. And they all went back rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table looking + at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped his pen into the + ink and held it over the paper, and thought a minute, and then said, “But + I haven’t got anything to say.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. + </h2> + <p> + ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been having a + great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, “I believe I + shall take a ride this morning!” + </p> + <p> + And the little boys cried out, “Oh, may we go too?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + </p> + <p> + So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and Agamemnon + went off to their business, and Solomon John to school; and Mrs. Peterkin + began to get ready for her ride. + </p> + <p> + She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, and some + gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza wanted to pick some + flowers to take to the minister’s wife, so it took them a long time to + prepare. + </p> + <p> + The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, and + Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin put on her + cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little boys were in + their india-rubber boots, and they got into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took up + the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly stopped, + and would not go any farther. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she clucked to + the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little boys whistled and + shouted; but still the horse would not go. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to whip him,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse would not + go, she said she would get out and turn her head the other way, while + Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he began to go she would hurry + and get in. + </p> + <p> + So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we have too heavy a load,” said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got in. + </p> + <p> + So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, but + still the horse would not go. + </p> + <p> + One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just then, + called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, and they could + not hear exactly what she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have tried the whip,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “She says ‘whips,’ such as you eat,” said one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We might make those,” said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “We have got plenty of cream,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us have some whips,” cried the little boys, getting out. + </p> + <p> + And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and the wind + was very high. + </p> + <p> + So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and made some + very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all round, and they all + thought they were very nice. + </p> + <p> + They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very quickly. + </p> + <p> + “That is just what he wanted,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “now he will certainly + go!” + </p> + <p> + So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and the + gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and + they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + </p> + <p> + “We must either give up our ride,” said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, “or + else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she will say.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were eager to go + and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza went with them, while + her mother took the reins. + </p> + <p> + They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, and was + in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, she very kindly + said they might draw up the curtain from the window at the foot of the + bed, and open the blinds, and she would see. Then she asked for her + opera-glass, and looked through it, across the way, up the street, to Mrs. + Peterkin’s door. + </p> + <p> + After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned her head + back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then said, “Why don’t + you unchain the horse from the horse-post?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then + hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was untied, and + they all went to ride. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. + </h2> + <p> + ANOTHER little incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at + dinner-time. + </p> + <p> + They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of the + children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half liked lean. + Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham turned out to be a very + remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate slices,—first + one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, and so on. Mr. + Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, according to their + age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; and Elizabeth Eliza, + who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, who could eat nothing + but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had what he could eat. + </p> + <p> + It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the + vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children saw + upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet potato and + sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because not one was + satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat + and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they looked up and saw + the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into + their plates. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter now?” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, however, + made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her lean, and so + on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “What shall be done now?” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + They all sat and thought for a little while. + </p> + <p> + At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, “Suppose we ask the lady + from Philadelphia what is best to be done.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Peterkin said he didn’t like to go to her for everything; let the + children try and eat their dinner as it was. + </p> + <p> + And they all tried, but they couldn’t. “Very well, then.” said Mr. + Peterkin, “let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + “All of us?” cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the + moment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “only put on your india-rubber boots.” And they + hurried out of the house. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she kindly + stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon and Elizabeth + Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from Philadelphia said, + “But why don’t you give the slices of fat to those who like the fat, and + the slices of lean to those who like the lean?” + </p> + <p> + They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza, and + Solomon John looked at the little boys. “Why didn’t we think of that?” + said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. + </h2> + <p> + THE trouble was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the + dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up + from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she + could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach it. + All the family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in vain; the + dinner could not be stirred. + </p> + <p> + “No dinner!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite hungry,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + At last Mr. Peterkin said, “I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the + kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one went + down, taking a napkin. + </p> + <p> + The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the + family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but she + could not move it down. + </p> + <p> + The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between the + kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it! + </p> + <p> + “What is there for dinner?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Roast turkey,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato,” Mrs. Peterkin continued. + </p> + <p> + “Sweet potato!” exclaimed both the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + anxious to find a bright point. + </p> + <p> + “Let us sit down and think about it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea,” said Agamemnon, after a while. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear it,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Let each one speak his mind.” + </p> + <p> + “The turkey,” said Agamemnon, “must be just above the kitchen door. If I + had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a great idea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “If you think you could do it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Would it not be better to have a carpenter?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have neither,” + said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “A carpenter! A carpenter!” exclaimed the rest. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys should + go in search of a carpenter. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a book; for he + had another idea. + </p> + <p> + “This affair of the turkey,” he said, “reminds me of those buried cities + that have been dug out,—Herculaneum, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, “and Pompeii.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “they found there pots and kettles. Now, I should + like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a book and read. I + think it was done with a pickaxe.” + </p> + <p> + So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter’s shop, + there was no carpenter to be found there. + </p> + <p> + “He must be at his house, eating his dinner,” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Happy man,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “he has a dinner to eat!” + </p> + <p> + They went to the carpenter’s house, but found he had gone out of town for + a day’s job. But his wife told them that he always came back at night to + ring the nine-o’clock bell. + </p> + <p> + “We must wait till then,” said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at + cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down to hear of + Herculaneum and Pompeii. + </p> + <p> + Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to have tea + when they had had no dinner? A part of the family thought it would not do; + the rest wanted tea. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was here not + long ago,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Let us try to think what she would advise us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I wish she were here,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Mr. Peterkin, “she would say, let them that want tea have + it; the rest can go without.” + </p> + <p> + So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much was + eaten, as there had been no dinner. + </p> + <p> + When the nine-o’clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon John, and the + little boys rushed to the church, and found the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it might be + a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + </p> + <p> + When the matter was explained to him, he went into the dining-room, looked + into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and arranged the weight, and + pulled up the dinner. + </p> + <p> + There was a family shout. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble was in the weight,” said the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “That is why it is called a dumb-waiter,” Solomon John explained to the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was put upon the table. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for the next + day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + </p> + <p> + But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda warmed + over the vegetables. + </p> + <p> + “Patient waiters are no losers,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. + </h2> + <p> + IN fact, it was their last summer’s journey—for it had been planned + then; but there had been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + </p> + <p> + The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a trunk + suitable for travelling. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a week at a time + at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for Elizabeth Eliza when she + went to the seminary. Solomon John and Mr. Peterkin, each had his + patent-leather hand-bag. But all these were too small for the family. And + the little boys wanted to carry their kite. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother’s trunk. This was a hair-trunk, + very large and capacious. It would hold everything they would want to + carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk, or the valise and + bags. + </p> + <p> + Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next day the + things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin’s room, for her to see if they + could all be packed. + </p> + <p> + “If we can get along,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “without having to ask + advice, I shall be glad!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “It is time now for people to be coming to ask + advice of us.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things that were + already in the trunk. Here were last year’s winter things, and not only + these, but old clothes that had been put away,—Mrs. Peterkin’s + wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear before they put on + jackets and trousers. + </p> + <p> + All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old things, + putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could think of, both + summer and winter ones, because you never can tell what sort of weather + you will have. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. There were + her own and Elizabeth Eliza’s best bonnets in a bandbox; also Solomon + John’s hats, for he had an old one and a new one. He bought a new hat for + fishing, with a very wide brim and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas still + larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + </p> + <p> + “I have never had a chance to look at them,” he said; “but when one + travels, then is the time to study geography.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin packed his + tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her just as she had + packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it would help to smooth + the dresses, and placed it on top; but she was forced to take all out, and + set it at the bottom. This was not so much matter, as she had not yet the + right dresses to put in. Both Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza would need + new dresses for this occasion. The little boys’ hoops went in; so did + their india-rubber boots, in case it should not rain when they started. + They each had a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, that were packed. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second day to + see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even the little boys’ + kite lay smoothly on the top. + </p> + <p> + “I like to see a thing so nicely done,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to move + it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John could lift it alone, + or all together. + </p> + <p> + Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of it. + </p> + <p> + “Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things.” + </p> + <p> + “But we did not plan expressing it,” said Mrs. Peterkin, in a discouraged + tone. + </p> + <p> + “We can take a carriage,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage,” said Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “The hackman could not lift it, either,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “People do travel with a great deal of baggage,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And with very large trunks,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Still they are trunks that can be moved,” said Mr. Peterkin, giving + another try at the trunk in vain. “I am afraid we must give it up,” he + said; “it would be such a trouble in going from place to place.” + </p> + <p> + “We would not mind if we got it to the place,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “But how to get it there?” Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “This is our first obstacle,” said Agamemnon; “we must do our best to + conquer it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is an obstacle?” asked the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “It is the trunk,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary,” said Agamemnon, taking + the large volume from the trunk. “Ah, here it is—” And he read:— + “OBSTACLE, an impediment.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a worse word than the other,” said one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “But listen to this,” and Agamemnon continued: “Impediment is something + that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands in the way; + obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; hinderance, something + that holds back.” + </p> + <p> + “The trunk is all these,” said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “It does not entangle the feet,” said Solomon John, “for it can’t move.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it could,” said the little boys together. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the trunk and + putting them away. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” she said, “this has given me some experience in packing.” + </p> + <p> + And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + </p> + <p> + But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested that + they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the station; + the little boys could go and come with the things. But Elizabeth Eliza + thought the place too public. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + </p> + <p> + At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a good-sized + family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the journey was put + off from that summer. + </p> + <p> + But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family consultation + was held about packing it. Many things would have to be left at home, it + was so much smaller than the grandmother’s hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had + been studying the atlas through the winter, and felt familiar with the + more important places, so it would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. + Peterkin decided to leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. With great + care and discretion, and by borrowing two more leather bags, it could be + accomplished. Everything of importance could be packed, except the little + boys’ kite. What should they do about that? + </p> + <p> + The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon John and + Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + </p> + <p> + “I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of the + lady from Philadelphia,” said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + </p> + <p> + “She has come on here,” said Agamemnon, “and we have not been to see her + this summer.” + </p> + <p> + “She may think we have been neglecting her,” suggested Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion about the + kite. + </p> + <p> + They came back in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite when we get + there,” they cried. + </p> + <p> + “What a sensible idea!” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; “and I may have leisure to + help you.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll take plenty of newspapers,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And twine,” said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + </p> + <p> + The question then was, “When should they go?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. + </h2> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN awoke one morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The + wind had flung the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the + house, and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering + hedges and fences. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but nothing + could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white snow. Even Mr. + Bromwick’s house, on the opposite side of the street, was hidden by the + swift-falling flakes. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do about it?” thought Mrs. Peterkin. “No roads cleared out! + Of course there’ll be no butcher and no milkman!” + </p> + <p> + The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for there + was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no knowing when they + would have anything more to eat. + </p> + <p> + It was best to secure the breakfast first. + </p> + <p> + So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, waking + the family, and before long all were dressed and downstairs. + </p> + <p> + And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + </p> + <p> + All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was frozen. They + could open the door into the wood-house; but the wood-house door into the + yard was banked up with snow; and the front door, and the piazza door, and + the side door stuck. Nobody could get in or out! + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the kitchen fire, but + had discovered there was no furnace coal. + </p> + <p> + “The furnace coal was to have come to-day,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will come to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + </p> + <p> + But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little boys + were much pleased to have “ice-cream” for breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “When we get a little warm,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we will consider what is + to be done.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I + was to have had a leg of mutton to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will come to-day,” said Agamemnon, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Are these sausages the last meat in the house?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had meant + to order more flour that very day. + </p> + <p> + “Then we are eating our last provisions,” said Solomon John, helping + himself to another sausage. + </p> + <p> + “I almost wish we had stayed in bed,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first,” repeated Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “There’s the pig!” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and could be + reached under cover. + </p> + <p> + But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + </p> + <p> + “We should have to ‘corn’ part of him,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “My butcher has always told me,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that if I wanted a + ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have not the ham!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we could ‘corn’ one or two of his legs,” suggested one of the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We need not settle that now,” said Mr. Peterkin. “At least the pig will + keep us from starving.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + </p> + <p> + “If we had only decided to keep a cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “one learns a great many things too late!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!” exclaimed the little + boys. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were quite + pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and hurried through + their breakfasts that they might go and try to shovel out a path from one + of the doors. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to know more about the water-pipes,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Now, I + shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I forgot to; and I + ought to have shut it off in the cellar.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were going + to try the side door. + </p> + <p> + “Another thing I have learned to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, “is not to have + all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm blows the snow + against all the doors.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John started up. + </p> + <p> + “Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use,” asked Mr. Peterkin, “since we have no door on the east + side?” + </p> + <p> + “We could cut one,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we could cut a door,” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?” asked Elizabeth + Eliza,—“for there is no window.” + </p> + <p> + In fact, the east side of the Peterkins’ house formed a blank wall. The + owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached houses. He + had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary to see,” said Agamemnon, profoundly; “of course, if + the storm blows against this side of the house, the house itself must keep + the snow from the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Solomon John, “there must be a space clear of snow on the east + side of the house, and if we could open a way to that “—“We could + open a way to the butcher,” said Mr. Peterkin, promptly. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house ever since + the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + </p> + <p> + “What part of the wall had we better attack?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?” she exclaimed. + “Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?” + </p> + <p> + “It is right to preserve ourselves from starving,” said Mr. Peterkin. “The + drowning man must snatch at a straw!” + </p> + <p> + “It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the thaw + comes,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “than that he should find us lying about the + house, dead of hunger, upon the floor.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + </p> + <p> + The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not succeeded in + opening the side door, and were planning trying to open the door from the + wood-house to the garden. + </p> + <p> + “That would be of no use,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “the butcher cannot get + into the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “But we might shovel off the snow,” suggested one of the little boys, “and + dig down to some of last year’s onions.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had been bringing + together their carpenter’s tools, and Elizabeth Eliza proposed using a + gouge, if they would choose the right spot to begin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to find,—one, + a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda armed herself with a + poker. + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to begin on the ground floor,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Except that we may meet with a stone foundation,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “If the wall is thinner upstairs,” said Agamemnon, “it will do as well to + cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher may bring below + in his cart.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable place, + and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually cut a bit + out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. Solomon John confided + to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of stories of prisoners who cut + themselves free, through stone walls, after days and days of secret labor. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. She was + interrupted by a voice behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s your leg of mutton, marm!” + </p> + <p> + It was the butcher. How had he got in? + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back gate is + kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I could not make + anybody hear me knock at the side door.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you make a path to the door?” asked Mr. Peterkin. “You must + have been working at it a long time. It must be near noon now.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m about on regular time,” answered the butcher. “The town team has + cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down the last half-hour. + The storm is over.” + </p> + <p> + True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had not + noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + </p> + <p> + “And we were all up an hour earlier than usual,” said Mr. Peterkin, when + the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a pickaxe + in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “If we had lain abed till the usual time,” said Solomon John, “we should + have been all right.” + </p> + <p> + “For here is the milkman!” said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now heard + at the side door. + </p> + <p> + “It is a good thing to learn,” said Mr. Peterkin, “not to get up any + earlier than is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. + </h2> + <p> + NOT that they were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. + But for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a cow, + to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be so healthy. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and how near + they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe snow-storm, and + the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If the cow-shed could open + out of the wood-shed, such trouble might be prevented. + </p> + <p> + Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, and Agamemnon + and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, in case Tony should be + “snowed up,” or have the whooping-cough in the course of the winter. The + little boys thought they knew how already. + </p> + <p> + But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it was + important to know where to keep it. + </p> + <p> + “One way will be,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “to use a great deal every day. We + will make butter.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be admirable,” thought Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “And custards,” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And syllabub,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And cocoa-nut cakes,” exclaimed the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of a cow. + You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would be pleasant + climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall have to feed the cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Where shall we pasture her?” asked Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Up on the hills, up on the hills,” exclaimed the little boys, “where + there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the house. + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t know,” he said, “but the cow might eat off all the grass in + one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless the grass + grew fast enough every night.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy season the + grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might not grow at all. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is the worst of having a cow,—there + might be a drought.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the quantity of + grass in the lot. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by seeing how much + grass the Bromwicks’ cow, opposite them, eat up in a day. + </p> + <p> + The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the Bromwicks’ + fence, and take an observation. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble would be,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “that cows walk about so, + and the Bromwicks’ yard is very large. Now she would be eating in one + place, and then she would walk to another. She would not be eating all the + time, a part of the time she would be chewing.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have some + sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the calculations + were made. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the place, and + very likely they would make the cow angry.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. Peterkin’s + lot for his cow. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin started up. + </p> + <p> + “That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there was feed + enough for one cow.” + </p> + <p> + “And the reason you didn’t let him have it,” said Solomon John, “was that + Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not like the idea,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “of their cow’s looking + at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be planting the + sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a quiet one. I should + not like her jumping over the fence into the flower-beds.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest kind. + </p> + <p> + “I should think something might be done about covering her horns,” said + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin; “that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might be + padded with cotton.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if they + came at you they could not help knocking you over. + </p> + <p> + The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. Half the + fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after her. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + </p> + <p> + “The cow would like it ever so much better,” the little boys declared, “on + account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks and the bushes, she + could walk round and find the grassy places.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but it would be less dangerous to + keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because she would not be coming + and going, morning and night, in that jerky way the Larkins’ cows come + home. They don’t mind which gate they rush in at. I should hate to have + our cow dash into our front yard just as I was coming home of an + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Mr. Peterkin; “we can have the door of the cow-house + open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and going.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the exercise, + and they would lose a great pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch the cow. + </p> + <p> + It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they were to + put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build a dairy. + </p> + <p> + The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the family + stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly walking into the + shed. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. It was + the one she did her gardening in, and it might have infuriated the cow. + And she kept out of the garden the first day or two. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of milk-pans, of + every size. + </p> + <p> + But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + </p> + <p> + The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza said + she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, though she would + like to do her best to patronize the cow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking care of + the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she was sure the pans + and the closet were all clean. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from Philadelphia to + try,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “it will be a pretty attention before she + goes.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be awkward if she didn’t like it,” said Solomon John. “Perhaps + something is the matter with the grass.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday,” said one of the little boys, + remorsefully. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all to the + lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the milk + was sour! + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid it was so,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “but I didn’t know what to + expect from these new kinds of cows.” + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + </p> + <p> + “In the new dairy,” answered Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Is that in a cool place?” asked the lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Is it near the chimney?” inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + “It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range,” replied + Elizabeth Eliza. “I suppose it is too hot!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is it! Last winter the milk froze, + and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall we put our dairy?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. + </h2> + <p> + EARLY in the autumn the Peterkins began to prepare for their + Christmas-tree. + </p> + <p> + Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to the + neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin had been up + to Mr. + </p> + <p> + Bromwick’s wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. Agamemnon + went to look at it occasionally after dark, and Solomon John made frequent + visits to it mornings, just after sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove Elizabeth + Eliza and her mother that way, and pointed furtively to it with his whip; + but none of them ever spoke of it aloud to each other. It was suspected + that the little boys had been to see it Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. + But they came home with their pockets full of chestnuts, and said nothing + about it. + </p> + <p> + At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into the + Larkin’s barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement was made of it + with Elizabeth Eliza’s yard-measure. To Mr. Peterkin’s great dismay it was + discovered that it was too high to stand in the back parlor. + </p> + <p> + This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, + Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. Peterkin + was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles would drip. + </p> + <p> + But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the ceiling of + the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of the tree. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It must + not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I should have the ceiling lifted all across the + room; the effect would be finer.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, because her + room was over the back parlor, and she would have no floor while the + alteration was going on, which would be very awkward. Besides, her room + was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, perhaps she could + not walk in it upright. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn’t propose altering the whole ceiling, + but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part where the tree was + to stand. + </p> + <p> + This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza’s room; but it + would go across the whole room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the cuddy + thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit against, only here + you would not have the sea-sickness. She thought she should like it, for a + rarity. She might use it for a divan. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the carpet, and + might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the matter secret, + for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; but Mr. Peterkin + proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, for a number of other + jobs. + </p> + <p> + One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same height, + for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting down in a chair + that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, and it had proved to be + two inches lower. The little boys were now large enough to sit in any + chair; so a medium was fixed upon to satisfy all the family, and the + chairs were made uniformly of the same height. + </p> + <p> + On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree could be + cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, and demurred at + so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. Peterkin had set his + mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had cut her carpet in + preparation for it. + </p> + <p> + So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for nearly a + fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen plastering, + and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth Eliza’s carpet was taken + up, and the furniture had to be changed, and one night she had to sleep at + the Bromwicks’, for there was a long hole in her floor that might be + dangerous. + </p> + <p> + All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what was + going on. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know why a + Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still more astonished + at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza’s room. It must be a + Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + </p> + <p> + Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, with + some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of the little + boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and mystery, behind doors, + and under the stairs, and in the corners of the entry. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the tree. He had + been collecting some bayberries, as he understood they made very nice + candles, so that it would not be necessary to buy any. + </p> + <p> + The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor together, and + all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin would go in with + Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth Eliza, or Elizabeth Eliza and + Agamemnon and Solomon John. The little boys and the small cousins were + never allowed even to look inside the room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She wanted to + consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should need, and whether they + could make it at home, as they had cream and ice. She was pretty busy in + her own room; the furniture had to be changed, and the carpet altered. The + “hump” was higher than she expected. There was danger of bumping her own + head whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some padding on the ceiling + for fear of accidents. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and their + father collected in the back parlor for a council. The carpenters had done + their work, and the tree stood at its full height at the back of the room, + the top stretching up into the space arranged for it. All the chips and + shavings were cleared away, and it stood on a neat box. + </p> + <p> + But what were they to put upon the tree? + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they proved to be + very “stringy” and very few of them. It was strange how many bayberries it + took to make a few candles! The little boys had helped him, and he had + gathered as much as a bushel of bayberries. He had put them in water, and + skimmed off the wax, according to the directions; but there was so little + wax! + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off from the + legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should cover them with gilt + paper, to answer for gilt apples, without telling them what they were for. + </p> + <p> + These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they had + for the tree! + </p> + <p> + After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring + anything for it. + </p> + <p> + “I thought of candies and sugar-plums,” she said; “but I concluded if we + made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, then, we have not + made caramels. The fact is, that day my head was full of my carpet. I had + bumped it pretty badly, too.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an apple-tree he + had seen in October, full of red fruit. + </p> + <p> + “But the leaves would have fallen off by this time,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And the apples, too,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to get + the things,” said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. “But I went from shop to + shop, and didn’t know exactly what to get. I saw a great many gilt things + for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys were making the gilt + apples; there were plenty of candles in the shops, but I knew Solomon John + was making the candles.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into town now. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to be a + grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be spared, and Solomon + John was sure he and Agamemnon would not know what to buy. Besides, they + would want to try the candles to-night. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing would not + answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too heavy. + </p> + <p> + A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam from one of + Solomon John’s candles that he had lighted by way of trial. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match to examine + the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of trains coming out at + that hour, but none going in except a very late one. That would not leave + time to do anything and come back. + </p> + <p> + “We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I,” said Solomon John, “but we should + not have time to buy anything.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the uncles and + aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there was time to study up + something about electric lights. If they could only have a calcium light! + Solomon John’s candle sputtered and went out. + </p> + <p> + At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The little + boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and Mrs. Peterkin, + hastened to see what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + The uncles and aunts thought somebody’s house must be on fire. The door + was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for it was beginning + to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza’s purchases, + so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and hastily called + back her guests and the little boys into the other room. The little boys + and the small cousins were sure they had seen Santa Claus himself. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza. It + was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a hint from + Elizabeth Eliza’s letters that there was to be a Christmas-tree, and had + filled this box with all that would be needed. + </p> + <p> + It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, from + gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining flags and + lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets of + fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at the bottom of the whole, + a large box of candles and a box of Philadelphia bonbons! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from screaming. The + little boys and the small cousins knocked on the folding-doors to ask what + was the matter. + </p> + <p> + Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung them on the + tree, and put on the candles. + </p> + <p> + When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed:—“Let + us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors to-night, + and have the tree on Christmas Eve!” + </p> + <p> + And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day before, + and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. + </h2> + <p> + TWAS important to have a tea-party, as they had all been invited by + everybody,—the Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would + be such a good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the + lady from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who would be + sure to make it all go off well. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were too + many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and saucers in the + best set. + </p> + <p> + “There are seven of us, to begin with,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “We need not all drink tea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I never do,” said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + </p> + <p> + “And we could have coffee, too,” suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “That would take as many cups,” objected Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “We could use the every-day set for the coffee,” answered Elizabeth Eliza; + “they are the right shape. Besides,” she went on, “they would not all + come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; they never go out.” + </p> + <p> + “There are but six cups in the every-day set,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin agreed + with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. Jeffers never went + out. + </p> + <p> + “There are three of the Tremletts,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “they never go + out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to have the headache. + Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the three Gibbons boys, and their + sister Juliana; but the other sisters are out West, and there is but one + Osborne.” + </p> + <p> + It really did seem safe to ask “everybody.” They would be sorry, after it + was over, that they had not asked more. + </p> + <p> + “We have the cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “so there will be as much cream and + milk as we shall need.” + </p> + <p> + “And our own pig,” said Agamemnon. “I am glad we had it salted; so we can + have plenty of sandwiches.” + </p> + <p> + “I will buy a chest of tea,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. “I have been thinking + of a chest for some time.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was as well to + buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin determined on a + chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + </p> + <p> + So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy + evening and some would be prevented. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + </p> + <p> + And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. Ann Maria + Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought her over, for the + Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the Tremletts had a niece, and Mary + Osborne an aunt, that they took the liberty to bring. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each set + came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that more were + coming. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, and trying + to calculate how many were to come, and wondering why there were always + more and never less, and whether the cups would go round. + </p> + <p> + The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had their + headaches the day before, and were having that banged feeling you always + have after a headache; so they all sat at the same side of the room on the + long sofa. + </p> + <p> + All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. Old Mr. + Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor door. And + Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, unexpectedly home + from the West. + </p> + <p> + “Got home this morning!” they said. “And so glad to be in time to see + everybody,—a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a + sleeping-car!” + </p> + <p> + “Forty-eight!” repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were + forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and whether all + could sit down. + </p> + <p> + Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be neighborly to + stay away. They insisted on getting into the most uncomfortable seats. + </p> + <p> + Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys preferred to + stand. + </p> + <p> + But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had thought + they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John and the little + boys could help in the waiting. + </p> + <p> + It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived with her + daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, who was a little + deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther behind the parlor door. + Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake hands with the lady from + Philadelphia, saying:—“Four Gibbons girls and Mary Osborne’s aunt,—that + makes nineteen; and now”—It made no difference what she said; for + there was such a murmuring of talk that any words suited. And the lady + from Philadelphia wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + </p> + <p> + It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, and + asked:— + </p> + <p> + “Can’t we go and ask more? Can’t we fetch the Larkins?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, no!” answered Elizabeth Eliza. “I can’t even count them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, to ask + if there were going to be cups enough. + </p> + <p> + “I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count,” said Elizabeth Eliza, + putting her hand to her head. + </p> + <p> + The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + </p> + <p> + “The Maberlys!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. “I never asked them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is your father’s doing,” cried Mrs. Peterkin. “I do believe he asked + everybody he saw!” And she hurried back to her guests. + </p> + <p> + “What if father really has asked everybody?” Elizabeth Eliza said to + herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + </p> + <p> + There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, or + both, the cups could not go round. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + </p> + <p> + He had not been able to count the guests, they moved about so, they talked + so; and it would not look well to appear to count. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “We are not a family for an emergency,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, when + there were more people than cups and saucers?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + “Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady from Philadelphia is + talking about the Exhibition, and telling how she stayed at home to + receive friends. And they must have had trouble there! Could not you go in + and ask, just as if you wanted to know?” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many talking with the + lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + “If we could only look into some book,” he said,—“the encyclopaedia + or the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment he thought of his “Great Triumphs of Great Men,” that he + was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the Stephensons, or + any of the men of modern times. He might skip over to them,—he knew + they were men for emergencies. + </p> + <p> + He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with chairs. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good thought,” said Agamemnon. “I will bring down more upstairs + chairs.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Solomon John; “here are all that can come down; the rest of the + bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will do!” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only he could + invent something on the spur of the moment,—a set of bedroom + furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into parlor chairs! It + seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his table and pencils, when he + was interrupted by the little boys, who came to tell him that Elizabeth + Eliza wanted him. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the tea-table, + with all the things on, should be pushed into the front room, where the + company were; and those could take cups who could find cups. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a table; + it might upset, and break what china they had. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back room. She + called to him:—“Agamemnon, you must bring Mary Osborne to help, and + perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry round some of the cups.” + </p> + <p> + And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, and the + tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + </p> + <p> + The little boys took the sugar and cream. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and saucers to be + washed,” she said to the Gibbons boys and the little boys. + </p> + <p> + This was an idea of Mary Osborne’s. + </p> + <p> + But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the more cups + they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, and Mary Osborne the + tea. + </p> + <p> + Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand it,” Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. “Do they come + back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are more cups than + there were!” + </p> + <p> + Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be coffee-cups that + matched the set! And they never had had coffee-cups. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Solomon John!” Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; “I cannot understand the cups!” + </p> + <p> + “It is my doing,” said Solomon John, with an elevated air. “I went to the + lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. ‘What do you do in + Philadelphia, when you haven’t enough cups?’ ‘Borrow of my neighbors,’ she + answered, as quick as she could.” + </p> + <p> + “She must have guessed,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “That may be,” said Solomon John. “But I whispered to Ann Maria Bromwick,—she + was standing by,—and she took me straight over into their closet, + and old Mr. Bromwick bought this set just where we bought ours. And they + had a coffee-set, too”—“You mean where our father and mother bought + them. We were not born,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “It is all the same,” said Solomon John. “They match exactly.” + </p> + <p> + So they did, and more and more came in. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!” + </p> + <p> + “Ann Maria was very good about it,” said Solomon John; “and quick, too. + And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two dozen coffee and tea + cups!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told the + Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She + almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “No trouble now!” + </p> + <p> + She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. + </p> + <p> + No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all seemed + to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, talking + to Mr. + </p> + <p> + Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were handing + things around. + </p> + <p> + The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls on the + edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a soft, warm + evening, and some of the young people were on the piazza. Everybody was + talking and laughing, except those who were listening. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for more + coffee. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a great success, Elizabeth Eliza,” he whispered. “The coffee is + admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should not mind + having a tea-party every week.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going off + well. + </p> + <p> + There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over another + such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + </h2> + <p> + Dramatis Personæ.—Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda’s + mother, girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. + AMANDA [coming in with a few graduates ]. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole class home to + the collation. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and Sophie + with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time for + the collation. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER [to herself ].—If the ice-cream will go round. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? This is + Elizabeth Eliza, girls—you have heard me speak of her. What a pity + you were too late! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We tried to come; we did our best. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Did you miss the train? Didn’t you get my postal-card? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We had nothing to do with the train. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—You don’t mean you walked? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—O no, indeed! + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—We came in a horse and carryall. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall part. + But didn’t you start in time? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—It all comes from the carryall being so hard to turn. + I told Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that don’t + turn easy. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—They turn easy enough in the stable, so you can’t + tell. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes; we started with the little boys and Solomon John + on the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. She was to drive, and + I was to see to the driving. But the horse was not faced toward Boston. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an accident! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—And the little boys—where are they? Are they killed? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—The little boys are all safe. We left them at the + Pringles’, with Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—But what did happen? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We started the wrong way. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—You lost your way, after all? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—No; we knew the way well enough. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—It’s as plain as a pikestaff! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—No; we had the horse faced in the wrong direction,—toward + Providence. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—And mother was afraid to have me turn, and we kept + on and on till we should reach a wide place. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I thought we should come to a road that would veer + off to the right or left, and bring us back to the right direction. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Why, no; if it had broken down we should not have + been in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay in the + carriage, whatever happens. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—But nothing seemed to happen. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—O yes; we met one man after another, and we asked the + way to Boston. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—And all they would say was, “Turn right round—you + are on the road to Providence.” + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—As if we could turn right round! That was just what + we couldn’t. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—You don’t mean you kept on all the way to Providence? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met a man + with a black hand-bag—black leather I should say. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—He must have been a book-agent. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He set it on + a stone. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—I dare say it was the same one that came here the other day. + He wanted me to buy the “History of the Aborigines, Brought up from + Earliest Times to the Present Date,” in four volumes. I told him I hadn’t + time to read so much. He said that was no matter, few did, and it wasn’t + much worth it—they bought books for the look of the thing. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Now, that was illiterate; he never could have graduated. I + hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that man. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—Very likely it was not the same one. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of the + buttons worn? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I noticed one of the buttons was off. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—We’re off the subject. Did you buy his book? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—He never offered us his book. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—He told us the same story,—we were going to + Providence; if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I told him I couldn’t; but he took the horse’s + head, and the first thing I knew—AMANDA.—He had yanked you + round! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I screamed; I couldn’t help it! + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I was glad when it was over! + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was + headed right; but we lost time. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and seeing + you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma myself. I came near + it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I think + there was partiality about the promotions. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I never was good about remembering things. I + studied well enough, but, when I came to say off my lesson, I couldn’t think + what it was. Yet I could have answered some of the other girls’ questions. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—It’s odd how the other girls always have the easiest + questions. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I never could remember poetry There was only one + thing I could repeat. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Oh, do let us have it now; and then we’ll recite to you some + of our exhibition pieces. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I’ll try. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help + entertain Amanda’s friends. + </p> + <p> + [All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and thoughtful. + ] ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I’m trying to think what it is about. You all + know it. You remember, Amanda,—the name is rather long. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—It can’t be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?—that is one of the + longest names I know. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O dear, no! + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—Perhaps it’s Cleopatra. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It does begin with a “C”—only he was a boy. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—That’s a pity, for it might be “We are seven,” only that is + a girl. Some of them were boys. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It begins about a boy—if I could only think + where he was. I can’t remember. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Perhaps he “stood upon the burning deck?” + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—That’s just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Casablanca! Now begin—go ahead. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—“The boy stood on the burning deck, When—When—” + I can’t think who stood there with him. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—If the deck was burning, it must have been on fire. I guess + the rest ran away, or jumped into boats. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—That’s just it:—“Whence all but him had fled.” + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I think I can say it now. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled—-” + </pre> + <p> + [She hesitates. ] Then I think he went— + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—Of course, he fled after the rest. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Dear, no! That’s the point. He didn’t. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + </pre> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O yes. Now I can say it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled; + The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + </pre> + <p> + But it used to rhyme. I don’t know what has happened to it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the rhymes. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It must be “without his father’s head,” or, + perhaps, “without his father said” he should. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—I think you must have omitted something. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—She has left out ever so much! + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Perhaps it’s as well to omit some, for the ice-cream has + come, and you must all come down. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite in + a song! + </p> + <p> + [Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + </h2> + <p> + THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys the + evening before. + </p> + <p> + They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing of + horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely five + minutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward till the + family were downstairs. + </p> + <p> + It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though + crowded, period of noise. + </p> + <p> + The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o’clock, a + terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: “I am thankful + the lady from Philadelphia is not here!” For she had been invited to stay + a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth of July, as she was not + well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + </p> + <p> + And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though every + cow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns! + </p> + <p> + “How many little boys are there? How many have we?” exclaimed Mr. + Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking he + would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, to + put himself to sleep. Alas! + </p> + <p> + the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + </p> + <p> + And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Eliza was to + take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the five minutes, + and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Why did not + Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + </p> + <p> + And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen! + </p> + <p> + “We will not try this plan again,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “If we live to another Fourth,” added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the door + to inquire into the state of affairs. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour too early. + And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or four of their + friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had given them + permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understood the day + as beginning when they went to bed the night before. This accounted for + the number of horns. + </p> + <p> + It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the five + minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained only the + noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possible + pillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bells + and cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,—the sunrise, + or “the rising of the sons,” as Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their + friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + </p> + <p> + They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the + suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang some + flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew of a + place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for + “flag-root,” and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They did + bring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. The boys + were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of the piazza + when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along. As the + procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and the crowd of + boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house with some + especial strains of greeting. + </p> + <p> + Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a few moments + of quiet, during the boys’ absence from the house on their visit to the + swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she had a sick-headache, or + whether it was all the noise, and she was just deciding it was the sick + headache, but was falling into a light slumber, when the fresh noise + outside began. + </p> + <p> + There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of donkeys, + and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers of the boys. + Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles had Chinese + crackers also. + </p> + <p> + And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had never + allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraid of + torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some the + children would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it. + </p> + <p> + She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even about + pea-nuts. + </p> + <p> + Everybody exclaimed over this: “Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!” + But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at the + Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets in + Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast the + pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, in + the midst of a crowd of people, too! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should be sorry + to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution, something + really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed to a quiet + pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on the sidewalks as he + went along the streets. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + </p> + <p> + In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real + celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consented to + give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family as a + Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terrible noise,—only + she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days beforehand, + that their mother might be used to the sound, and had selected their horns + some weeks before. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs. + Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from the + dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,—saltpetre, + charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in the + wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel; + and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary’s. He explained to his mother + that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and she was + quieted. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere for making + a “fulminating paste” of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. He had + written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But the iron + filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or two before, + and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on the piazza. + </p> + <p> + Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening. + </p> + <p> + According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, the + reading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in the + morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + </p> + <p> + The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + </p> + <p> + “That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant,” explained Elizabeth + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “She said the flags of our country,” said the little boys. “We thought she + meant ‘in the country.’” + </p> + <p> + Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of the + Declaration of Independence. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add as + much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as they + began:—“When, in the course of—when, in the course of—when, + in the course of human—when in the course of human events—when, + in the course of human events, it becomes—when, in the course of + human events, it becomes necessary—when, in the course of human + events it becomes necessary for one people”—They could not get any + farther. Some of the party decided that “one people” was a good place to + stop, and the little boys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the + people. But Mr. Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party + to stay until sunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes + were to be saved to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + </p> + <p> + And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have some cold + beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and everybody + ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a dinner. But + when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it to soak, on + account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks! + </p> + <p> + Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought tamarinds + and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when the Antiques + and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts and lemonade. + </p> + <p> + They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, they + frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppies + were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in the + garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing of insects, + in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Some neighboring boys + were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs. Peterkin started, + and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone. Mr. Peterkin had set + out to find a copy of the “Declaration.” Agamemnon had disappeared. She + had not a moment to decide about her headache. + </p> + <p> + She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and if + rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure where + they came down. + </p> + <p> + And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed toward + them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for a + practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of the + guests. + </p> + <p> + There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they would better + go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkin hastened into + the house to save herself, or see what she could save. Elizabeth Eliza + followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers and tongs she + could find, because they could be thrown out of the window without + breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses out of the + window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on fire, and had + carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. There was nothing + like being prepared. She had always determined to do the reverse. So with + calmness she told Solomon John to take down the looking-glasses. But she + met with a difficulty,—there were no pokers and tongs, as they did + not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin had been afraid of + them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and kettles up to the upper + windows, ready to be thrown out. + </p> + <p> + But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the attic + in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the most + unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags of old + pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, she + said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks on Fourth of + July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all the company + declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long before Mrs. + Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company was only out for + show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought it already too much + celebrated. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza’s kettles and pans had come down through the windows with + a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boys thought. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy of + the Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and he had + to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannon began, + he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bells and + sounding of the cannon. + </p> + <p> + Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjoram + pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off with + great explosions. + </p> + <p> + At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon, + with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside. + </p> + <p> + “I have suddenly remembered where I read about the ‘fulminating paste’ we + made. It was in the preface to ‘Woodstock,’ and I have been round to + borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraid + about the ‘paste’ going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where is the + fulminating paste?” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel. + It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told him + of the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it the + louder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon John felt + it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for a medicine. + </p> + <p> + He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon’s book: “This paste, + when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take + fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the paste?” repeated Solomon John, in terror. + </p> + <p> + “We made it just twenty-six hours ago,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “We put it on the piazza,” exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling the + facts, “and it is in front of our mother’s feet!” + </p> + <p> + He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, flinging + aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon the piazza at the + same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded at once with the + shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same moment the paste + “fulminated” into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs. Peterkin! + </p> + <p> + It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. The + bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had just + reached the closing words: “Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred + honor.” + </p> + <p> + “We are all blown up, as I feared we should be,” Mrs. Peterkin at length + ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of the + piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered limbs + about her. + </p> + <p> + It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the + piazza, with closed eyes. + </p> + <p> + At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, “Is anybody killed?” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody was + killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great while + before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move. + </p> + <p> + But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of + Solomon John’s fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had his + face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza’s muslin + dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one had lost any + limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flying in the air. + Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmly shut. + </p> + <p> + No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of Solomon + John’s nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the + “fulminating paste.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how she got + there. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused the + neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on every + side, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boys + hastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. Solomon John’s + other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have a + headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to see if + it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures of the + day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boys had been + allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there was likely to be + but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared she should never + more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetred beef, and she + should never venture to take another spoonful of potash. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. + </h2> + <p> + THERE was some doubt about the weather. Solomon John looked at the + “Probabilities;” there were to be “areas” of rain in the New England + States. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of rain were to + be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed walking round the + house in a procession, to examine the sky. As they returned they met Ann + Maria Bromwick, who was to go, much surprised not to find them ready. + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the lady + from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to follow in a wagon, + and to stop for the daughters of the lady from Philadelphia. The wagon + arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall. + </p> + <p> + A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where anybody + could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as soon as it was + thought of. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; somebody was always + complaining of being too hot or too cold at a picnic, and it would be a + great convenience to see if she really were so. He thought now he might + take a barometer, as “Probabilities” was so uncertain. Then, if it went + down in a threatening way, they could all come back. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never tried + them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. Solomon John had put + in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a book of poetry. Mr. Peterkin did + not like sitting on the ground, and proposed taking two chairs, one for + himself and one for anybody else. The little boys were perfectly happy; + they jumped in and out of the wagon a dozen times, with new india-rubber + boots, bought for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already had + enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying to remember + things. So many mistakes were made. The things that were to go in the + wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in the carryall had to be + taken out for the wagon! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her veil, + and Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she + must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could not she think + of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any day to think what to + have for dinner, but how much easier now it would be to stay at home + quietly and order the dinner,—and there was the butcher’s cart! But + now they must think of everything. + </p> + <p> + At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to drive. + </p> + <p> + Twice they started, and twice they found something was left behind,—the + loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a basket of sandwiches + on the front porch. And just as the wagon was leaving, the little boys + shrieked, “The basket of things was left behind!” + </p> + <p> + Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the house, to see + if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; he shut the front + door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into the wagon himself. It + started off and went down the street without him! + </p> + <p> + He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why had they + not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel of the wagon, so + that he might have sent a message in such a case!), when the Bromwicks + drove out of their yard in their buggy, and took him in. + </p> + <p> + They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they were all + to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin called to + Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been holding the barometer and + the thermometer, and they waggled so that it troubled her. It was hard + keeping the thermometer out of the sun, which would make it so warm. It + really took away her pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon decided to + get into the carryall, on the seat with his father, and take the barometer + and thermometer. + </p> + <p> + The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or Lonetown + Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, but maybe the drive + to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + </p> + <p> + Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the picnic was + got up for her. + </p> + <p> + But where was she? + </p> + <p> + “I declare,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I forgot to stop for her!” The whole + picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + </p> + <p> + It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner as they + passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, and Mrs. + Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers that she had not + noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten something! She + did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short turn, and it was getting + late, and what would the lady from Philadelphia think of it, and had they + not better give it all up? + </p> + <p> + But everybody said “No!” and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a wide turn + round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took up the lady from + Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind and took up their daughters, + for there was a driver in the wagon besides Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might as well + stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question was put again, + Where should they go? + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nook—it sounded + inviting. + </p> + <p> + There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, but there + was a good place to tie the horses. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know what the + lady from Philadelphia would think of their having forgotten her, and the + more she tried to explain it, the worse it seemed to make it. She supposed + they never did such things in Philadelphia; she knew they had invited all + the world to a party, but she was sure she would never want to invite + anybody again. There was no fun about it till it was all over. Such a + mistake—to have a party for a person, and then go without her; but + she knew they would forget something! She wished they had not called it + their picnic. + </p> + <p> + There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. “Was anything broke?” + exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. “Was something forgotten?” asked the lady from + Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + No! But Mr. Peterkin didn’t know the way; and here he was leading all the + party, and a long row of carriages following. + </p> + <p> + They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, unless + it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They were made to drive up, + and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different direction, but they + could bring the party round to it through the meadows. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a + pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry Nook, + and had better keep on, So they kept on. It proved to be an excellent + place, where they could tie the horses to a fence. Mrs. Peterkin did not + like their all heading different ways; it seemed as if any of them might + come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the little boys had + their kites flapping round. The Tremletts insisted upon the whole party + going up the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons boys, and the + little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all the party had to + carry everything up to the rocks. The large basket of “things” was very + heavy. + </p> + <p> + It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to take + it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and old Mr. + Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + </p> + <p> + And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. The + other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the + carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And the table-cloth was + spread,—for they did bring a table-cloth,—and the baskets were + opened, and the picnic really began. + </p> + <p> + The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been + forgotten, and the Tremletts’ basket had been left on their front + door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, and everything + they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were perfectly happy, and ate + of all the kinds of cake. Two of the Tremletts would stand while they were + eating, because they were afraid of the ants and the spiders that seemed + to be crawling round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to keep poking with a fern + leaf to drive the insects out of the plates. The lady from Philadelphia + was made comfortable with the cushions and shawls, leaning against a rock. + Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she had been forgotten. + </p> + <p> + John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: “Why is a + pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? Because one is a + grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her + friends in Boston had told her. It was, “Why is—” It began, “Why is + something like—no, Why are they different?” It was something about + an old woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very + funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was alike + or different. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth + Eliza’s conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one of + the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just + discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to rain + down directly. + </p> + <p> + Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + </p> + <p> + There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it appeared + that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had gone back + for it twice. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put + the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the + hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + </p> + <p> + There was a great cry for the “emergency basket,” that had not been opened + yet. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into it + what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. Everybody + stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered with newspapers. + First came out a backgammon-board. “That would be useful,” said Ann Maria, + “if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody’s barn.” Next, a pair of + andirons. “What were they for?” “In case of needing a fire in the woods,” + explained Solomon John. Then came a volume of the Encyclopædia. But it was + the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and contained only A and a part + of B, and nothing about rain or showers. Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in + by the little boys, and Elizabeth Eliza’s book of poetry, and a change of + boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small foot-rug in case the ground should be + damp; some paint-boxes of the little boys’; a box of fish-hooks for + Solomon John; an ink-bottle, carefully done up in a great deal of + newspaper, which was fortunate, as the ink was oozing out; some old + magazines, and a blacking-bottle; and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was + all very entertaining, and there seemed to be something for every occasion + but the present. Old Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy. + It was all so interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the + carriages. + </p> + <p> + The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on setting + up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and they might + as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon John and Ann Maria had + arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their watches, so + that they might see if it was right. And then came a great exclamation at + the hour: “It was time they were all going home!” + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she + felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they + had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes to + consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time to + fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away. But it + had been a delightful picnic, after all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. + </h2> + <p> + EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have “something” + at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to get + up a “great Exposition,” to show to the people of the place. But Mr. + Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for + “exhibits,” and it was given up. + </p> + <p> + There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common, and the + ladies of the place thought it ought to be something handsome,—something + more than a common trough,—and they ought to work for it. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, and she + felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, but she + would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written to the + lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, if they had + asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble. + </p> + <p> + Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what they + wanted? + </p> + <p> + It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask about. + And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but you could not + always put them together. There was this idea of the water-trough, and + then this idea of getting some money for it. So she began with writing to + the lady from Philadelphia. The little boys believed she spent enough for + it in postage-stamps before it all came out. + </p> + <p> + But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have some charades + at their own house for the benefit of the needed water-trough,—tickets + sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwick was to help act, because + she could bring some old bonnets and gowns that had been worn by an aged + aunt years ago, and which they had always kept. Elizabeth Eliza said that + Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they must borrow all the red + things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She knew people would be willing + to lend things. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, they + were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it too + odd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything to + frighten her mother. + </p> + <p> + She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her letters,—the + one that had “Turk” in it,—but they ought to have two words “Oh, + yes,” Ann Maria said, “you must have two words; if the people paid for + their tickets they would want to get their money’s worth.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought you might have “Hindoos”; the little boys could color + their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the first scene an + Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for “dues,” and + then have the little boys for Hindoos. + </p> + <p> + A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit. There + was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doors stuck when + you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that the Pan-Elocutionists + had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne, and so it was decided + to ask John Osborne to help. + </p> + <p> + If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said he was + sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make a stage + if John Osborne would help put it up. + </p> + <p> + All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann + Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and they + spent the evening in trying on the various things,—such odd caps and + remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of + bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off + well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys + brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with costumes. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what they + were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she had,—it + would all come of use. + </p> + <p> + The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon + and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped + zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There + was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and such + a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came in the + little boys, shouting, “All the tickets are sold, at ten cents each!” + </p> + <p> + “Seventy tickets sold!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Seven dollars for the water-trough!” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And we do not know yet what we are going to act!” exclaimed Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + But everybody’s attention had to be given to the scene that was going up + in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was + magnificent, and represented a forest. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we going to put seventy people?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, + venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter. + </p> + <p> + The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted of + boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and sweeping + and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made ready! It was + late, and some of the people had already come to secure good seats, even + before the actors had assembled. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to act?” asked Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I have been so torn with one thing and another,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “I + haven’t had time to think!” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you the word yet?” asked John Osborne, for the audience was + flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “I have got one word in my pocket,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “in the letter + from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. + Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don’t yet understand the whole of the + word.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know the word, and the people are all here!” said John Osborne, + impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza!” exclaimed Ann Maria, “Solomon John says I’m to be a + Turkish slave, and I’ll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils + are? You know I brought them over last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere + scarf!” exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!” cried + another of the boys. + </p> + <p> + And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other side + of the thin curtain. + </p> + <p> + “You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sit + where you can hear.” + </p> + <p> + “And let Julia Fitch come where she can see,” said another voice. + </p> + <p> + “And we have not any words for them to hear or see!” exclaimed John + Osborne, behind the curtain. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish we’d never determined to have charades! exclaimed Elizabeth + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t we return the money?” + </p> + <p> + “They are all here; we must give them something!” said John Osborne, + heroically. + </p> + <p> + “And Solomon John is almost dressed,” reported Ann Maria, winding a veil + around her head. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t we take Solomon John’s word ‘Hindoos’ for the first?” said + Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the “hin,” or anything, + and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a + feather duster. + </p> + <p> + The bell rang, and the first scene began. + </p> + <p> + It was a great success. John Osborne’s Irish was perfect. Nobody guessed + the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, and + made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as an old + woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the audience, + speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who appeared in a + more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly back, saying she + had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the effect intended, + and it was loudly cheered. + </p> + <p> + Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of their + friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano till the + scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done up in blankets + and turbans. + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful that is over,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for now we can act my + word. Only I don’t myself know the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, let us act it,” said John Osborne, “and the audience can + guess the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “The first syllable must be the letter P,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “and we + must have a school.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on as + scholars. + </p> + <p> + All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school by + flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll guess that to be ‘row,’” said John Osborne in despair; “they’ll + never guess ‘P’!” + </p> + <p> + The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John + Osborne’s army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all the + family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him, + veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes. + </p> + <p> + This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth Eliza + was sure she did not know what to do,—whether to kneel or sit down; + she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could not + help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however, kept his + solemnity. “I suppose I need not say much,” he had said, “for I shall be + the ‘Turk who was dreaming of the hour.’” But he did order the little boys + to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice insisted they must + have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and the scene closed. + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do now?” asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “We must have an ‘inn’ scene,” said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her + letter; “two inns, if we can.” + </p> + <p> + “We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going to + another,” said John Osborne. + </p> + <p> + “Now is the time for the bandboxes,” said Solomon John, who, since his + Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the charade. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw + Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns. The + little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes. Bandbox + after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the applause + was immense. At last the curtain fell. + </p> + <p> + “Now for the whole,” said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage + over a heap of umbrellas. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the whole,” + said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, they are guessing,” said John Osborne. “‘D-ice-box.’ I don’t + wonder they get it wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “But we know it can’t be that!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony. “How + can we act the whole if we don’t know it ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see it!” said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. “Get your whole family + in for the last scene.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the + background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon John, + leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance, and in + front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in their india-rubber + boots. + </p> + <p> + The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, “The Peterkins!” + “P-Turk-Inns!” + </p> + <p> + It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole. + </p> + <p> + “What a tableau!” exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; “the Peterkin family guessing + their own charade.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. + </h2> + <p> + AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was + called a “semi-detached” house, when there was no other “semi” to it. It + had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built the + other half. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the + terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully + satisfied with the one they were in. + </p> + <p> + But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new railroad + had to be carried directly through the place, and a station was to be + built on that very spot. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether they + could not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give up the + lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant, and it + would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be no danger of + missing the train, if one were sure of the direction. + </p> + <p> + But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and the + steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under the + dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what the + family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move. + </p> + <p> + But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that satisfied + the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a tan-pit; another + was too much in the middle of the town, next door to a machine-shop. + Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, that should face the + sunset; while Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towards + the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), for the + sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house with a great + many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr. Peterkin did + not like so much slamming, and felt there was more danger of burglars with + so many doors. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop. + If he could have carpenters’ tools and a workbench he could build an + observatory, if it were wanted. + </p> + <p> + But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leave their + house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch’s, at the Corners. + It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, and was opposite + a barn. There were three other doors,—too many to please Mr. + Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was no observatory, + and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house was too low and + some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had hoped for a view; + but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more healthy to have to + walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they might get tired of the + same every day. + </p> + <p> + And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carried + their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent the + evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everything + beforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her mother + dreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkin + shook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort. + Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme would make + it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, which could be + put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlor furniture could + be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms, in which Mr. and + Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the move went on. Then the old + parlor carpets could be taken up for the new dining-room and the + downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhile dine at the old house. + Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the distance was considerable, + as he felt exercise would be good for them all. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza’s programme then arranged that the dining-room furniture + should be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlor carpets + would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleep in the + old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable place in one + house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, he would find + some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day there should be moved + only the furniture needed for a certain room. Great confusion would be + avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote these last words at + the head of her programme,—“Misplace nothing.” + </p> + <p> + And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of the family. + </p> + <p> + THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.—Page 126. The first thing to be done was to + buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at some in + Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with her father, + Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them. + </p> + <p> + They got home about eleven o’clock, and when they reached the house were + dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, already partly + filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, a large + book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meet them in + an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture carts had appeared + soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the men had insisted upon + beginning to move the things. In vain had she shown Elizabeth Eliza’s + programme; in vain had she insisted they must take only the parlor + furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy pieces in the bottom + of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So she had seen them go + into every room in the house, and select one piece of furniture after + another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza’s programme; she doubted + if they could have read it if they had looked at it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea they + would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fill + the carts. + </p> + <p> + But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,—a heavy piece of + furniture,—and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables. + Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every book + on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books in + the bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from the + shelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters as + natural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought all to + be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon’s + Encyclopædia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting it with + the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four men were + bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father’s room, and they + called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene of + confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore them to + the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay in + hopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in + despair upon the end of a sofa. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet,” said Solomon + John. + </p> + <p> + “Is not the carpet bought?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they were + obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had come + back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, “I shall + be back in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumes + of his Encyclopædia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a man lifting + a wardrobe. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. “I did not like to go and ask her. But I + felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the whole + matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Makillan’s” was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only one + all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed they + might prefer one from Boston. + </p> + <p> + The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to + Makillan’s to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But where + should they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr. + Peterkin’s “quiet hour”? + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were covered + with things. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks, + who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should get + something to eat at the baker’s. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to receive the + carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. After + all there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house, and + in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza stepped down the + front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to the door. But + it was locked, and she had no keys! + </p> + <p> + “Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + No, he had not seen them since the morning,—when—ah!—yes, + the little boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber + boots, as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some door + unfastened—perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, + each door, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat! + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with them,” + said Agamemnon; “or else go home to see if they left them there.” The + school was in a different direction from the house, and far at the other + end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys’ school, as + he proposed to do after their move. + </p> + <p> + “That will be the only way,” said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been + arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and not + come home at noon. + </p> + <p> + She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the carts + soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with the furniture? + Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she should need them to + set the furniture up in the right places. But they could not stop for + this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, in the garden, and + Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There was something from every + room in the house! Even the large family chest, which had proved too heavy + for them to travel with had come down from the attic, and stood against + the front door. + </p> + <p> + And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with a + wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Some + opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and Elizabeth + Eliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furniture appeared + to be standing full in view. + </p> + <p> + It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had been + to the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one of the + little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes. + Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrow + had waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept and + cleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there + would not be time enough to do anything. + </p> + <p> + And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the + furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a little place + in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and go home to + sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringing the + bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs. + </p> + <p> + In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had been + there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agony + about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how could it + be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainly could + not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left till the house + was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of one side. But + Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was to be moved without + being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips narrow enough to go + out. One of the men loading the remaining cart disposed of the question by + coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and carrying it on on top of his + wagon. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But what should + they do?—no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room table and + sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, and spoons here. + In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed; everything was + misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eat here and sleep + here, and what had become of the little boys? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packing + the dining-room china. + </p> + <p> + They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one + suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they should want + to take them next. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!” she + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkin + would be there for his “quiet hour.” And when the carters at last + appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed and + said, “There is nothing left,” and meekly consented to be led away. + </p> + <p> + They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in a + rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the opposite + barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken back with + him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side of the + house. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, the + floors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to stand + in a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,—there was + nothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had not come, + and although the tables were there they were covered with chairs and + boxes. + </p> + <p> + At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. It + contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same moment + appeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed all this + on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon John + came rushing in from the gate. + </p> + <p> + “The last load is coming! We are all moved!” he exclaimed; and the little + boys joined in a chorus, “We are moved! we are moved!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on the + parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza’s hat-box. The + parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed on the + parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and the + looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they were + moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + </h2> + <p> + CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The Peterkins had moved + into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where they would + have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of course they + would then have more time. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a long + time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when + she wanted to play on her piano. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. The + upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of the + door to the closet under the stairs. But the under table-cloth was kept in + a drawer in the closet. So, whenever the cloths were changed, the trunk + had to be pushed away under some projecting shelves to make room for + opening the closet-door (as the under table-cloth must be taken out + first), then the trunk was pushed back to make room for it to be opened + for the upper table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to push the + trunk away again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. This always + consumed a great deal of time. + </p> + <p> + Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find a place + in it. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house there was + no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept upstairs, which was + very inconvenient, and the volumes of the Encyclopædia could not be + together. There was not room for all in one place. So from A to P were to + be found downstairs, and from Q to Z were scattered in different rooms + upstairs. And the worst of it was, you could never remember whether from A + to P included P. “I always went upstairs after P,” said Agamemnon, “and + then always found it downstairs, or else it was the other way.” + </p> + <p> + Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the books all + in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking for them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. If they + went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. Elizabeth Eliza could + talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, German with the Germans; + Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish in Spain; + and perhaps he could himself master all the Eastern Languages and Russian. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all the + family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth Eliza + dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more willing. + </p> + <p> + Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always said she + would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, and she was sure + it did not look like it now. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something new every day, + and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a telephone, for they + had bridges in the very earliest days. + </p> + <p> + Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could be found + in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three could be brought out + in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for them, and could learn a little + on the way out and in. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. He was told + that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed they should all begin + with Sanscrit. They would thus require but one teacher, and could branch + out into the other languages afterward. + </p> + <p> + But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth Eliza + already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk it, without + much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of the side-stands. But + she found she had been talking with a Moorish gentleman who did not + understand French. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers came + at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they would be using + different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought something might be + learned by having them all at once. Each one might pick up something + beside the language he was studying, and it was a great thing to learn to + talk a foreign language while others were talking about you. Mrs. Peterkin + was afraid it would be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it was all + right. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they ought to have + foreign teachers, who spoke only their native languages. But, in this + case, how could they engage them to come, or explain to them about the + carryall, or arrange the proposed hours? He did not understand how anybody + ever began with a foreigner, because he could not even tell him what he + wanted. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and pantomime. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be done. + Elizabeth Eliza explained how “langues” meant both “languages” and + “tongues,” and they could point to their tongues. For practice, the little + boys represented the foreign teachers talking in their different + languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon John went to invite them to come out, + and teach the family by a series of signs. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they might + almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and trust to + explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not yet made, it + might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they were + invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to his mouth as + he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and it looked a great + deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than asking them to teach. + Agamemnon suggested that they might carry the separate dictionaries when + they went to see the teachers, and that would show that they meant + lessons, and not lunch. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for them, if + they had come all that way; but she certainly did not know what they were + accustomed to eat. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the + foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and they + might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys were + delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. Agamemnon had heard + that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the Germans, and he would inquire + how it was made in the first lesson. Solomon John had heard they were all + very fond of garlic, and thought it would be a pretty attention to have + some in the house the first day, that they might be cheered by the odor. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by her + knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons before the + Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + </p> + <p> + There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to obtain + teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He did not want to + be tempted to talk any English with them. He wanted the latest and + freshest languages, and at last came home one day with a list of + “brand-new foreigners.” + </p> + <p> + They decided to borrow the Bromwicks’ carryall to use, beside their own, + for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon drove into town to bring + all the teachers out. One was a Russian gentleman, travelling, who came + with no idea of giving lessons, but perhaps he would consent to do so. He + could not yet speak English. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several gentlemen who + had recommended the different teachers, and he went with Agamemnon from + hotel to hotel collecting them. He found them all very polite, and ready + to come, after the explanation by signs agreed upon. The dictionaries had + been forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which looked the same, and + seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian instead of + one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new teacher of that language + lately arrived. + </p> + <p> + But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian gentleman + into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for he was a Turk, + sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! They glared at each + other, and began to assail each other in every language they knew, none of + which Mr. Peterkin could understand. It might be Russian, it might be + Arabic. It was easy to understand that they would never consent to sit in + the same carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten about the + Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + </p> + <p> + Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But the + French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to go with him + in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For the German + professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As soon as the French + gentleman put his foot on the step and saw him, he addressed him in such + forcible language that the German professor got out of the door the other + side, and came round on the sidewalk, and took him by the collar. + Certainly the German and French gentlemen could not be put together, and + more crowd collected! + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word “Herr,” and he + applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the + other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither + of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr. Peterkin + with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian teachers behind, + vociferating to each other in languages unknown to Mr. Peterkin, while he + feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so he drove home as fast as + possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The Spaniard by his side was a + little moody, while the Turk and the German behind did not utter a word. + </p> + <p> + At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin and + Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her + shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful + to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the + library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and + Russian apart. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his + Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The little + boys took their copy of the “Arabian Nights” to the Turk. Mr. Peterkin + attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian dictionary, as + he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs. Peterkin was trying to + inform her teacher that she had no books in Spanish. She got over all + fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad, and she tried to talk a + little, using English words, but very slowly, and altering the accent as + far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed, looked gravely interested, and + was very polite. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the + Parisian. + </p> + <p> + She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But he + understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her vocabularies, + and went on with—“J’ai le livre.” “As-tu le pain?” “L’enfant a une + poire.” He listened with great attention, and replied slowly. Suddenly she + started after making out one of his sentences, and went to her mother to + whisper, “They have made the mistake you feared. They think they are + invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for our politeness in + inviting them to déjeûner,—that means breakfast!” + </p> + <p> + “They have not had their breakfast!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at + her Spaniard; “he does look hungry! What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How should + they make them understand that they invited them to teach, not lunch. + Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out “apprendre” in the + dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they found it means both to teach + and to learn! What should they do? The foreigners were now sitting silent + in their different corners. The Spaniard grew more and more sallow. What + if he should faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of his mustaches to + a point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian should fight the + Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the airs of the + Parisian? + </p> + <p> + “We must give them something to eat,” said Mr. Peterkin, in a low tone. + “It would calm them.” + </p> + <p> + “If I only knew what they were used to eating,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others were used to + eating, and they might bring in anything. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could make good + coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American dish. Solomon John sent a + little boy for some olives. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked beans. + Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled eggs, and some + bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every man spoke his own + tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to her. They + all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was fluent about “les + moeurs Américaines.” Elizabeth Eliza supposed he alluded to their not + having set any table. The Turk smiled, the Russian was voluble. In the + midst of the clang of the different languages, just as Mr. Peterkin was + again repeating, under cover of the noise of many tongues, “How shall we + make them understand that we want them to teach?”—at this very + moment the door was flung open, and there came in the lady from + Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + </p> + <p> + She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different languages! + The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together they called upon + her to explain for them. Could she help them? Could she tell the + foreigners they wanted to take lessons? Lessons? They had no sooner + uttered the word than their guests all started up with faces beaming with + joy. It was the one English word they all knew! They had come to Boston to + give lessons! The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English in this + way. The thought pleased them more than the déjeûner. + </p> + <p> + Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. The + first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to teach. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. + </h2> + <p> + AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a profession. It + was important on account of the little boys. If he should make a trial of + several different professions he could find out which would be the most + likely to be successful, and it would then be easy to bring up the little + boys in the right direction. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family occasionally made + mistakes, and had come near disgracing themselves. Now was their chance to + avoid this in future by giving the little boys a proper education. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From earliest + childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips of paper. Mrs. + Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She could not bear the idea + of his bringing one disease after the other into the family circle. + Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. He thought he might manage it + if he should not have to see his patients while they were sick. If he + could only visit them when they were recovering, and when the danger of + infection was over, he would really enjoy making calls. + </p> + <p> + He should have a comfortable doctor’s chaise, and take one of the little + boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he could get + through the conversational part very well, and feeling the pulse, perhaps + looking at the tongue. He should take and read all the newspapers, and so + be thoroughly acquainted with the news of the day to talk of. But he + should not like to be waked up at night to visit. Mr. Peterkin thought + that would not be necessary. He had seen signs on doors of “Night Doctor,” + and certainly it would be as convenient to have a sign of “Not a Night + Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his patients + who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger of infection. And + then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his prescriptions would probably be so + satisfactory that they would keep his patients well,—not too well to + do without a doctor, but needing his recipes. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, by a desire + he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only invent something + important, and get out a patent, he would make himself known all over the + country. If he could get out a patent he would be set up for life, or at + least as long as the patent lasted, and it would be well to be sure to + arrange it to last through his natural life. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been suggested + by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their new house. He + had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked it up in the + Encyclopædia, and had spent a day or two in the Public Library, in reading + about Chubb’s Lock and other patent locks. + </p> + <p> + But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be made + alike! + </p> + <p> + He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, Solomon John + said, with all inventions, with Christopher Columbus, and everybody. + Nobody knew the invention till it was invented, and then it looked very + simple. With Agamemnon’s plan you need have but one key, that should fit + everything! It should be a medium-sized key, not too large to carry. It + ought to answer for a house door, but you might open a portmanteau with + it. How much less danger there would be of losing one’s keys if there were + only one to lose! + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were out, + and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But Agamemnon + explained that he did not mean there should be but one key in the family, + or in a town,—you might have as many as you pleased, only they + should all be alike. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,—they could + keep the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the key of + her upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And Mrs. Peterkin + felt it might be a convenience if they had one on each story, so that they + need not go up and down for it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide about + the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one morning, they went + into town to visit a patent-agent. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady from + Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + </p> + <p> + “I have had a delightful call,” she said; “but—perhaps I was wrong—I + could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon’s proposed patent. + I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things are kept profound + secrets; they say women always do tell things; I suppose that is the + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “But where is the harm?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. “I’m sure you can trust the + lady from Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had + questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had suggested that + “if everybody had the same key there would be no particular use in a + lock.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you explain to her,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that we were not all to + have the same keys?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t quite understand her,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but she seemed + to think that burglars and other people might come in if the keys were the + same.” + </p> + <p> + “Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!” said Mrs. Peterkin, + indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “But about other people,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “there is my upper drawer; + the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,—and their presents + in it!” + </p> + <p> + “And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + considering. + </p> + <p> + Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know what the + lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza then proposed going + into town, but it would take so long she might not reach them in time. A + telegram would be better, and she ventured to suggest using the Telegraph + Alarm. + </p> + <p> + For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was provided + with all the modern improvements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. + Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since their experience the last + winter, when their water-pipes were frozen up. She had been originally + attracted to the house by an old pump at the side, which had led her to + believe there were no modern improvements. It had pleased the little boys, + too. They liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump all the + water needed, and bring it into the house. + </p> + <p> + There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner by the + barn. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the little + boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great fondness for + pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, that the well was dry. + There was no water in it; so she had some moss thrown down, and an old + feather-bed, for safety, and the old well was a favorite place of + amusement. + </p> + <p> + The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and “set- + waters” everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a + hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would be + summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to conceal from them + the use of the knobs, and the card of directions at the side was + destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first inventions to help this. He + had arranged a number of similar knobs to be put in rows in different + parts of the house, to appear as if they were intended for ornament, and + had added some to the original knobs. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a patent + for this invention. + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed sending a + telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was pleased with the idea. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she herself + would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write the telegram. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning,” she said, looking at + one of the rows of knobs. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had put three + extra knobs at each end. + </p> + <p> + “But which is the end, and which is the beginning,—the top or the + bottom?” Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin asked hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened with her + to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see the telegraph boy? + </p> + <p> + They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible noise was + heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the fire-brigade were + seen rushing at a fatal speed! + </p> + <p> + It was a terrific moment! + </p> + <p> + “I have touched the fire-alarm,” Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the fire-engines + were approaching. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be alarmed,” said the chief engineer; “the furniture shall be + carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Move again!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a telegram to + her father, who was in Boston. + </p> + <p> + “It is not important,” said the head engineer; “the fire will all be out + before it could reach him.” + </p> + <p> + And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon the roof. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more + necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + </p> + <p> + “Write a telegram to your father,” she said to Elizabeth Eliza, “to ‘come + home directly.’” + </p> + <p> + “That will take but three words,” said Elizabeth Eliza, with presence of + mind, “and we need ten. I was just trying to make them out.” + </p> + <p> + “What has come now?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried again to + the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the street. + </p> + <p> + “I must have touched the carriage-knob,” cried Mrs. Peterkin, “and I + pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!” + </p> + <p> + Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were assembling. + Even their own little boys had returned from school, and were showing the + firemen the way to the well. + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound arose. She + had touched the burglar-alarm! + </p> + <p> + The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, had + invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with a knob. A wire + attached to the knob moved a spring that could put in motion a number of + watchmen’s rattles, hidden under the eaves of the piazza. + </p> + <p> + All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those of the + neighborhood who had not before assembled around the house. At this moment + Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + </p> + <p> + “You need not send for more help,” he said; “we have all the engines in + town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the neighborhood; there’s + no use in springing any more alarms. I can’t find the fire yet, but we + have water pouring all over the house.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + </p> + <p> + “We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, who are + in town,” she endeavored to explain. + </p> + <p> + “If it is necessary,” said the chief engineer, “you might send it down in + one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing before the door. + We’d better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you women + might fill the carriages with smaller things.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself + with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice of + the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of the + hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched the + right knob. It was the fourth from the beginning; but the beginning was at + the other end! + </p> + <p> + She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind him her + father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and hurried toward them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where were the + flames? + </p> + <p> + He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? Who was + dead? + </p> + <p> + Who was to be married? + </p> + <p> + He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and read it + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Come to us directly—the house is NOT on fire!” + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + </p> + <p> + “The house not on fire!” he exclaimed. “What are we all summoned for?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a mistake,” cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. “We touched + the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy!” + </p> + <p> + “We touched all the wrong knobs,” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from the house. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with a few + exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines were heard + approaching. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one of the + carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was now nearly + ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought to send a telegram + down by the boy, for the evening papers, to announce that the Peterkins’ + house had not been on fire. + </p> + <p> + The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of flowers, + bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by the feet of the + crowd that had assembled. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his men to + order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. The collection of + boys followed the procession as it went away. The fire-brigade hastily + removed covers from some of the furniture, restored the rest to their + places, and took away their ladders. Many neighbors remained, but Mr. + Peterkin hastened into the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before he went + in, as to the success of their visit to town. + </p> + <p> + “We saw all the patent-agents,” answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow + whisper. “Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything to do + with it.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into the house. + She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she recalled some words + of Solomon John. When they were discussing the patent he had said that + many an inventor had grown gray before his discovery was acknowledged by + the public. Others might reap the harvest, but it came, perhaps, only when + he was going to his grave. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed him silently + into the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. + </h2> + <p> + THERE had apparently been some mistake in Agamemnon’s education. He had + been to a number of colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his + course in any one. + </p> + <p> + He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. It + was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always tried to + find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit upon the right + thing. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the elective + system, where you were to choose what study you might take. This had + always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “And how was a feller to tell,” Solomon John had asked, “whether he wanted + to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out awful hard!” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood up. He was + at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he would come out a + great scholar, because she could never get him away from his books. + </p> + <p> + And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the library, + reading and reading. But they were always the wrong books. + </p> + <p> + For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the Spartan + war. + </p> + <p> + This turned Agamemnon’s attention to the Fenians, and to study the subject + he read up on “Charles O’Malley,” and “Harry Lorrequer,” and some later + novels of that sort, which did not help him on the subject required, yet + took up all his time, so that he found himself unfitted for anything else + when the examinations came. In consequence he was requested to leave. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason that + Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was always asked the + questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; if the professors had only + asked something else! + </p> + <p> + But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the things + they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing to take for + students only those who already knew certain things. She thought Agamemnon + might be a professor in a college for those students who didn’t know those + things. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal,” she added, + “or they would not have asked you so many questions; they would have told + you something.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he had made + with some of his classmates. They had taken a great deal of trouble to + bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to make a bonfire with, under one + of the professors’ windows. Agamemnon had felt it would be a compliment to + the professor. + </p> + <p> + It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return from + successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled upon lofty + heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes after distant + adventures. As he plodded back and forward he imagined himself some hero + of antiquity. He was reading “Plutarch’s Lives” with deep interest. This + had been recommended at a former college, and he was now taking it up in + the midst of his French course. + </p> + <p> + He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in Lynn, + perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and glorify its + heroes. + </p> + <p> + For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in + consequence of going back and forward through the snow, carrying the wood. + </p> + <p> + But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor’s room, + and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the whole + institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his predecessor, + who gave him his name, must have regretted that other bonfire, on the + shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a daughter. + </p> + <p> + The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, after having + been in the institution but a few months. + </p> + <p> + He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding about the + hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly at ten o’clock, but + found, afterward, that he should have gone at half-past six. This hour + seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin unseasonable, at a time of year when + the sun was not up, and he would have been obliged to go to the expense of + candles. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever he could be + admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it might be found. But, + after going to five, and leaving each before the year was out, he gave it + up. + </p> + <p> + He determined to lay out the money that would have been expended in a + collegiate education in buying an Encyclopædia, the most complete that he + could find, and to spend his life studying it systematically. He would not + content himself with merely reading it, but he would study into each + subject as it came up, and perfect himself in that subject. By the time, + then, that he had finished the Encyclopædia he should have embraced all + knowledge, and have experienced much of it. + </p> + <p> + The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of every + subject that came up. + </p> + <p> + He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second column + of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. This led him to + the study of music. He bought a flute, and took some lessons, and + attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the piano. This, of course, + distracted him from his work on the Encyclopædia. But he did not wish to + return to A until he felt perfect in music. This required a long time. + </p> + <p> + Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was requested + to “see Keys.” It was necessary, then, to turn to “Keys.” This was about + the time the family were moving, which we have mentioned, when the + difficult subject of keys came up, that suggested to him his own simple + invention, and the hope of getting a patent for it. This led him astray, + as inventions before have done with master-minds, so that he was drawn + aside from his regular study. + </p> + <p> + The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career Agamemnon + had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of life, if he should + master the Encyclopædia in a thorough way. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a college + course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different Encyclopædias that + appeared. + </p> + <p> + There would be no “spreads” involved; no expense of receiving friends at + entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that it would not be + necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At all the times of his + leaving he had sold out favorably to other occupants. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John’s destiny was more uncertain. He was looking forward to being + a doctor some time, but he had not decided whether to be allopathic or + homeopathic, or whether he could not better invent his own pills. And he + could not understand how to obtain his doctor’s degree. + </p> + <p> + For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist’s store. But he could + serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it was found he + was not familiar enough with the Latin language to compound the drugs. He + agreed to spend his evenings in studying the Latin grammar; but his course + was interrupted by his being dismissed for treating the little boys too + frequently to soda. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The family had + been much exercised with regard to their education. Elizabeth Eliza felt + that everything should be expected from them; they ought to take advantage + from the family mistakes. Every new method that came up was tried upon the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and were just + able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now considered best + that children should not be taught to read till they were ten years old. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken from them + even then, they might forget what they had learned. But no, the evil was + done; the brain had received certain impressions that could not be blurred + over. + </p> + <p> + This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the public + schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling school, and joined + a class in music, and another in dancing; they went to some afternoon + lectures for children, when there was no other school, and belonged to a + walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin was dissatisfied by the slowness of their + progress. He visited the schools himself, and found that they did not lead + their classes. It seemed to him a great deal of time was spent in things + that were not instructive, such as putting on and taking off their + india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school and taught + by Agamemnon from the Encyclopædia. The rest of the family might help in + the education at all hours of the day. Solomon John could take up the + Latin grammar, and she could give lessons in French. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not want to + have the study-hours all the time. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should make their + life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at breakfast, and study + everything put upon the table,—the material of which it was made, + and where it came from. + </p> + <p> + In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study of music, + and from one meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have the assistance,” said Mr. Peterkin, “of Agamemnon, with his + Encyclopædia.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in + their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A. + </p> + <p> + “That would not be impossible,” said Mr. Peterkin. “There is Amanda, who + will wait on table, to start with—” + </p> + <p> + “We could have ‘am-and-eggs,” suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was + distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and + impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do was + to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers as they + could. + </p> + <p> + They could still apply to the Encyclopædia, even if it were not in + Agamemnon’s alphabetical course. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the + botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. The study + of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the butter-dish + would bring in geology. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the + cream-jug, and they were promised a potter’s wheel directly. + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear,” said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, “before many weeks, we + shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we might begin with botany. That would be near + to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the botany of butter. On + what does the cow feed?” + </p> + <p> + The little boys were eager to go out and see. + </p> + <p> + “If she eats clover,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall expect the botany of + clover.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that very + evening they should go out and study the cow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple breakfast. The + little boys took their note-books and pencils, and clambered upon the + fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + </p> + <p> + For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They were always + coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to count them, and + nobody was very sure how many there were. + </p> + <p> + There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She looked at + them with large eyes. + </p> + <p> + “She won’t eat,” they cried, “while we are looking at her!” + </p> + <p> + So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and seated + themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to time, to see + the cow. + </p> + <p> + “Now she is nibbling a clover.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is a bit of sorrel.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a whole handful of grass.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of grass?” they exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and pretending to + the cow that they were looking into the street, and yet to be looking at + the cow all the time, and finding out what she was eating; and the upper + rail of the fence was narrow and a little sharp. It was very high, too, + for some additional rails had been put on to prevent the cow from jumping + into the garden or street. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw six legs + and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys disappeared! + </p> + <p> + “They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the cow!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. Solomon John + and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but stopped, not knowing + what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered herself with a supreme effort, + and sent them out to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep the cow + out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the milking had gone off + with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps with the key of the shed door. + Even if that were not locked, before Agamemnon could get round by the + wood-shed and cow-shed, the little boys might be gored through and + through! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the druggist’s for + plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through the dining-room to the + wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. Peterkin mounted the outside of the + fence, while Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high enough + to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported what he saw. + </p> + <p> + They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the + little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving. + </p> + <p> + The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his + india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + </p> + <p> + Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the grass, + still looking at him. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were next + seen running toward it. + </p> + <p> + A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with + Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the time + they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the arms of + their mother! + </p> + <p> + “This is too dangerous a form of education,” she cried; “I had rather they + went to school.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. + </h2> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN’S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of the + three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the + educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at + school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon + the subject of education. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin’s spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys + were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were + arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could be + pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These were + planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently amused + himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + </p> + <p> + Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. + Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; that + many who could did not answer questions,—the conductors of the + railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations + on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “one might be a conductor without even knowing the + names of the stations, because you can’t understand them when they do tell + them!” + </p> + <p> + “I never know,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “whether it is ignorance in them, or + unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one station is + coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so many times. + It would be useful if they would tell.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in + Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the + place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have + the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the + conductors “to stop at the farthest crossing.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying + on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no + one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a + breakfast on educational principles. + </p> + <p> + A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken the + alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole alphabet + must be represented in one breakfast. + </p> + <p> + This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, Coffee, + Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice (on butter), Jam, + Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, Oatmeal, Pepper, + Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Veal-pie, Waffles, Yeast-biscuit. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. “Excellent!” he cried. “Every + letter represented except Z.” Mrs. Peterkin drew from her pocket a letter + from the lady from Philadelphia. “She thought you would call it X-cellent + for X, and she tells us,” she read, “that if you come with a zest, you + will bring the Z.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite the + children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a zest, indeed, + it would give to the study of their letters! + </p> + <p> + It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + </p> + <p> + “How happy,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “that this should come first of all! + A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had mastered the first + letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the more involved subjects + hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden in the apple. + There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss independence. The + little boys were wild to act William Tell, but Mrs. Peterkin was afraid of + the arrows. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, then + discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps first + historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first apple. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the griddles + were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at home on the + marmalade, because the quinces came from grandfather’s, and she had seen + them planted; she remembered all about it, and now the bush came up to the + sitting-room window. + </p> + <p> + She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where the + granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite recollected + why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it took you almost + the whole day to stew them, and then you might as well set them on again. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at grandfather’s. In + order to know thoroughly about apples, they ought to understand the making + of cider. + </p> + <p> + Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather’s, scarcely twelve miles + away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should not the family go this + very day up to grandfather’s, and continue the education of the breakfast? + </p> + <p> + “Why not indeed?” exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather’s would + give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard to the + cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, even to + follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + </p> + <p> + It was suggested, too, that at grandfather’s they might study the + processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: they were + both the products of trees—the apple-tree and the maple. Mr. + Peterkin proposed that the lesson for the day should be considered the + study of trees, and on the way they could look at other trees. + </p> + <p> + Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the present. + Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely be in a hurry for + dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day before them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for luncheon. + </p> + <p> + But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could hardly + take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as the little + boys did not take up much room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at grandfather’s. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object to + staying some days. This would make it easier about coming home, but it did + not settle the difficulty in getting there. + </p> + <p> + Why not “Ride and Tie”? + </p> + <p> + The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and Agamemnon + and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit in + the carriage, when it was waiting for the pedestrians to come up; or, she + said, she did not object to a little turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin would + start, with Solomon John and the little boys, before the rest, and + Agamemnon should drive his mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first + stopping-place. + </p> + <p> + Then came up another question,—of Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk. If she + stayed a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be hot, and + it might be cold. + </p> + <p> + Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her heaviest + wraps. + </p> + <p> + You never could depend upon the weather. Even “Probabilities” got you no + farther than to-day. + </p> + <p> + In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the + expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left the + table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself with Amanda + over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon went to + order the horse and the expressman, and Solomon John and the little boys + prepared themselves for a pedestrian excursion. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so many + things she might want, and then again she might not. She must put up her + music, because her grandfather had a piano; and then she bethought herself + of Agamemnon’s flute, and decided to pick out a volume or two of the + Encyclopædia. But it was hard to decide, all by herself, whether to take G + for griddle-cakes, or M for maple-syrup, or T for tree. She would take as + many as she could make room for. + </p> + <p> + She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must take some + French books she had never yet found time to read. This involved taking + her French dictionary, as she doubted if her grandfather had one. She + ought to put in a “Botany,” if they were to study trees; but she could not + tell which, so she would take all there were. She might as well take all + her dresses, and it was no harm if one had too many wraps. When she had + her trunk packed, she found it over-full; it was difficult to shut it. She + had heard Solomon John set out from the front door with his father and the + little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse at the side door, so + there was no use in calling for help. She got upon the trunk; she jumped + upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, found she could lock it! + Yes, it was really locked. + </p> + <p> + But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been caught + in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was worse, she was so + fastened to the trunk that she could not lean forward far enough to turn + the key back, to unlock the trunk and release herself! The lock had + slipped easily, but she could not now get hold of the key in the right way + to turn it back. + </p> + <p> + She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She called + for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the trunk. But her door + was shut. + </p> + <p> + Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the door, + to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, in her + constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she would have + been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her travelling-dress, and + too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. Alas, she had packed her + scissors, and her knife she had lent to the little boys the day before! + She called again. What silence there was in the house! Her voice seemed to + echo through the room. At length, as she listened, she heard the sound of + wheels. + </p> + <p> + Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear the + front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to “have the day.” + But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to Amanda, to explain to her + to wait for the expressman. She was to have told her as she went + downstairs. But she had not been able to go downstairs! And Amanda must + have supposed that all the family had left, and she, too, must have gone, + knowing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard the front + door shut! + </p> + <p> + But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she had + proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be + picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in + time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,—that she + had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon + discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not + finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed. + She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all her + books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She tried + to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family. They were + good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge. But suppose + they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge, as they often + did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them, her mother would + not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother should decide to + leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping and waiting for the + first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no one would be left to tell + the rest, when they should come up to the carryall. They might go on so, + through the whole journey, without meeting, and she might not be missed + till they should reach her grandfather’s! + </p> + <p> + Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman + would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get + into the house! + </p> + <p> + She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut up + in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not when she + should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the “Mistletoe + Bough.” She had been one of the “guests,” who had sung “Oh, the Mistletoe + Bough,” and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the side-scenes how + the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the trunk then was + only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa, and this was a + stern reality. + </p> + <p> + It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather’s. + Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy she + was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move the + trunk toward the door. + </p> + <p> + In vain. All was still. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why + Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with + Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things into + the carriage,—a basket of lunch, a change of shoes for Mr. Peterkin, + some extra wraps,—everything Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth Eliza did + not come. “I think she must have walked on with your father,” she said, at + last; “you had better get in.” Agamemnon now got in. “I should think she + would have mentioned it,” she continued; “but we may as well start on, and + pick her up!” + </p> + <p> + They started off. “I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to Amanda, but + we must ask her when we come up with her.” + </p> + <p> + But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond the + village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting manner against a + tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave missives for each other as + they passed on. This note informed them that the walking party was going + to take the short cut across the meadows, and would still be in front of + them. They saw the party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. + Peterkin was explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as + they stood around a large specimen. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a ‘Quercus,’” said + Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an expression, + but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of the party, however, + were behind the tree, some were in front, and Elizabeth Eliza might be + behind the tree. They were too far off to be shouted at. Mrs. Peterkin was + calmed, and went on to the stopping-lace agreed upon, which they reached + before long. This had been appointed near Farmer Gordon’s barn, that there + might be somebody at hand whom they knew, in case there should be any + difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had been that Mrs. Peterkin + should always sit in the carriage, while the others should take turns for + walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a fence, and left her comfortably + arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she had risen so early to prepare for + the alphabetical breakfast, and had since been so tired with preparations, + that she was quite sleepy, and would not object to a nape in the shade, by + the soothing sound of the buzzing of the flies. But she called Agamemnon + back, as he started off for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated in + the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth Eliza + gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have expected + that she—Mrs. Peterkin—would walk on to the next stopping- + place!” + </p> + <p> + She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest passed + her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting cheerfully. It was a + little joggly in the carriage, she had already found, for the horse was + restless from the flies, and she did not like being left alone. + </p> + <p> + She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, but the + sun became hot, and it was not long before she was fatigued. When they + reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to rest upon one of the + hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at the other end of the field, + and they were seated there when the carryall passed them in the road. Mrs. + Peterkin waved parasol and hat, and the party in the carryall returned + their greetings, but they were too far apart to hear each other. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall,” she said, “and that + will explain all.” + </p> + <p> + But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent + stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A note was + pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it was “prime + fun.” + </p> + <p> + In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. Peterkin + felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the carryall missed + her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a house to rest, and for a + glass of water. + </p> + <p> + She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The party + had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided all should + meet at the foot of grandfather’s hill, that they might all arrive at the + house together. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all the way, + as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. Peterkin’s last + walk had been so slow, that the other party was far in advance and reached + the stopping-place before them. The little boys were all rowed out on the + stone fence, awaiting them, full of delight at having reached + grandfather’s. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. + Peterkin, exclaimed: “Where is Elizabeth Eliza?” Each party looked eagerly + at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be seen. Where was she? What was + to be done? Was she left behind? Mrs. Peterkin was convinced she must have + somehow got to grandfather’s. They hurried up the hill. Grandfather and + all the family came out to greet them, for they had been seen approaching. + There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + </p> + <p> + It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin stood and + looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late to send back for + Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the object of + their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking up and down the + road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were explaining to each other the + details of their journeys, they had discovered some facts. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to go back,” they exclaimed. “We are too late! The + maple-syrup was all made last spring.” + </p> + <p> + “We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months,—the + cider is not made till October.” + </p> + <p> + The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of neither + maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, perhaps forever! The + sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin still stood to look up and down + the road. + </p> + <p> + ... Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, as it seemed for + ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of prisoners,—how they + had watched the growth of flowers through cracks in the pavement. She + wondered how long she could live without eating. How thankful she was for + her abundant breakfast! + </p> + <p> + At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to answer + it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was impossible! + </p> + <p> + How singular!—there were footsteps. Some one was going to the door; + some one had opened it. “They must be burglars.” Well, perhaps that was a + better fate—to be gagged by burglars, and the neighbors informed—than + to be forever locked on her trunk. The steps approached the door. It + opened, and Amanda ushered in the expressman. + </p> + <p> + Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the + breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she must receive. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the key of + her trunk, and she was released! + </p> + <p> + What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had given up all + hope of her family returning for her. But how could she reach them? + </p> + <p> + She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until she + should come up with some of the family. At least she would fall in with + either the walking party or the carryall, or she would meet them if they + were on their return. + </p> + <p> + She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took their way, + stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + </p> + <p> + But much to Elizabeth Eliza’s dismay, they turned off from the main road + on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver insisted he must + go round by Millikin’s to leave a bedstead. They went round by Millikin’s, + and then had further turns to make. Elizabeth Eliza explained that in this + way it would be impossible for her to find her parents and family, and at + last he proposed to take her all the way with her trunk. She remembered + with a shudder that when she had first asked about her trunk, he had + promised it should certainly be delivered the next morning. Suppose they + should have to be out all night? Where did express-carts spend the night? + She thought of herself in a lone wood, in an express-wagon! She could + hardly bring herself to ask, before assenting, when he should arrive. + </p> + <p> + “He guessed he could bring up before night.” + </p> + <p> + And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset were + looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about the lost + Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. A female form sat + upon the front seat. + </p> + <p> + “She has decided to come by express,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “It is—it + is—Elizabeth Eliza!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN BOSTON. + </h2> + <p> + THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about the carnival of + authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was announced, their + interests were excited, and they determined that all the family should go. + </p> + <p> + But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they supposed + that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza thought their lessons + in the foreign languages would help them much in conversing in character. + </p> + <p> + As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there would be + time to read up everything written by all the authors, in order to be + acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. Peterkin did not wish + to begin too early upon the reading, for she was sure she should forget + all that the different authors had written before the day came. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time enough, as + it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had given up her French + lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and had, indeed, concluded + she had learned in them all she should need to know of that language. She + could repeat one or two pages of phrases, and she was astonished to find + how much she could understand already of what the French teacher said to + her; and he assured her that when she went to Paris she could at least ask + the price of gloves, or of some other things she would need, and he taught + her, too, how to pronounce “garçon,” in calling for more. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might make + themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys were already + acquainted with “Mother Goose.” Mr. Peterkin had read the “Pickwick + Papers,” and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Longfellow getting into a + horse-car. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give lectures + upon the “Arabian Nights.” Everybody else was planning something of the + sort, to “raise funds” for some purpose, and she was sure they ought not + to be behindhand. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise funds + enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they could go + every night. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the funds + for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds enough they + might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and take the carnival + comfortably. + </p> + <p> + But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were authors, and only + authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had once started upon writing a + book, but he was not able to think of anything to put in it, and nothing + had occurred to him yet. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could come out + before the carnival he could go as an author, and might have a booth of + his own, and take his family. + </p> + <p> + But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an author. You might + indeed publish something, but you had to make sure that it would be read. + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled with + books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For herself, she + had not read half the books in their own library. And she was glad there + was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might know who they were. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a “Carnival”; but he + supposed they should find out when they went to it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed looking + over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some suitable dresses + there, and these would suggest what characters they should take. Elizabeth + Eliza was pleased with this thought. She remembered an old turban of white + mull muslin, in an old bandbox, and why should not her mother wear it? + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own grandmother. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the East, and + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John thought she + might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. Among the treasures found + were some old bonnets, of large size, with waving plumes. Elizabeth Eliza + decided upon the largest of these. + </p> + <p> + She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John was to take + the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was planning to enter upon + the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was a little afraid of + sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great while finding the shore. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a coal-hod + that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher Columbus was born in + Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian he had lately learned of his + teacher. + </p> + <p> + As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a happy + thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would come in play, + and he was quite sure that his own family name made him kin to that of the + great Czar. He studied up the life in the Encyclopædia, and decided to + take the costume of a ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and some of + the docks; but none of them gave him the true idea of dress for + ship-building in Holland or St. Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a + broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a costumer’s, and + with Elizabeth Eliza’s black waterproof was satisfied with his own + appearance. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in some + Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large bonnet, but she + had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs on their heads, and + she might wear her own muff. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of false + curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed over her + black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much like the picture + of their great-grandmother. But doubtless Cleopatra resembled this + picture, as it was all so long ago, so the rest of the family decided. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as represented in one of + the little boys’ arks, was simple. His father’s red-lined dressing gown, + turned inside out, permitted it easily. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a long dress of + yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the little boys. For the + little boys were to represent two doves and a raven. There were + feather-dusters enough in the family for their costumes, which would be + then complete with their india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher Columbus. He + had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his pocket, proposing to + repeat, through the evening, the scene of setting the egg on its end. He + gave up the plan of a boat, as it must be difficult to carry one into + town; so he contented himself by practising the motion of landing by + stepping up on a chair. + </p> + <p> + But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, as + Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if it were + not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to take an ark into + town as Solomon John’s boat. + </p> + <p> + The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the hall + late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as they stopped + at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found themselves entangled + with a number of people in costume coming out from a dressing-room below. + Mr. Peterkin was much encouraged. They were thus joining the performers. + The band was playing the “Wedding March” as they went upstairs to a door + of the hall which opened upon one side of the stage. Here a procession was + marching up the steps of the stage, all in costume, and entering behind + the scenes. + </p> + <p> + “We are just in the right time,” whispered Mr. Peterkin to his family; + “they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line.” The little boys + had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from one of the managers made + Peterkin understand the situation. + </p> + <p> + “We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I thought he was dead!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Authors live forever!” said Agamemnon in her ear. + </p> + <p> + At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage manager glared + at them, as he awaited their names for introduction, while they came up + all unannounced,—a part of the programme not expected. But he + uttered the words upon his lips, “Great Expectations;” and the Peterkin + family swept across the stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as + Peter the Great, Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon + John as Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. + Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. Columbus, and + the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + </p> + <p> + Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then following the + rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the audience, they went; + but into an audience not dressed in costume! + </p> + <p> + There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,—all the neighbors,—all + as natural as though they were walking the streets at home, though Ann + Maria did wear white gloves. + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea you were to appear in character,” said Ann Maria to + Elizabeth Eliza; “to what booth do you belong?” + </p> + <p> + “We are no particular author,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see, a sort of varieties’ booth,” said Mr. Osborne. + </p> + <p> + “What is your character?” asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I have not quite decided,” said Elizabeth Eliza. “I thought I should find + out after I came here. The marshal called us ‘Great Expectations.’” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. “I have shaken hands with + Dickens!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken hands + with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + </p> + <p> + They had been swept off in Mother Goose’s train, which had lingered on the + steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the procession of + characters in costume had closed. At this moment they were dancing round + the barberry bush, in a corner of the balcony in Mother Goose’s quarters, + their feather-dusters gayly waving in the air. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled herself + with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the grand closing + tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which swept her hither and + thither. At last she found herself in the Whittier Booth, and sat a long + time calmly there. As Cleopatra she seemed out of place, but as her own + grandmother she answered well with its New England scenery. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he found a chance + to enter a booth. Once before an admiring audience he set up his egg in + the centre of the Goethe Booth, which had been deserted by its committee + for the larger stage. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the Arabian + Nights. + </p> + <p> + It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going on + the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups represented + there. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the “Dream of Fair Women,” at its + most culminating point. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin found himself with the “Cricket on the Hearth,” in the + Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but always in the + Russian language, which was never understood. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every manager + was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to some other, and she + passed along, always trying to explain that she had not yet decided upon + her character. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand,” he said, “why none of our friends are dressed in + costume, and why we are.” + </p> + <p> + “I rather like it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “though I should be better + pleased if I could form a group with some one.” + </p> + <p> + The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join the + performers. It was the dance of her youth. + </p> + <p> + But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led to the + stage. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand this company,” he said, distractedly. + </p> + <p> + “They cannot find their booth,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “That is the case,” said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor,” said a polite marshal. + </p> + <p> + They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the + refreshment-room. + </p> + <p> + “This is the booth for us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it is,” said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + </p> + <p> + At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,—the little boys, who + had been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose’s establishment, and now came + down for ice-cream. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know how to sit down,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for I am sure Mrs. + Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. Shem, I will + venture it.” + </p> + <p> + Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon arranged in a + row, calmly eating ice-cream. + </p> + <p> + “I think the truth is,” said Mr. Peterkin, “that we represent historical + people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters in books. That is, + I observe, what the others are. We shall know better another time.” + </p> + <p> + “If we only ever get home,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “I shall not wish to come + again. It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it is so + bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going round and + round in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we shall never reach home,” said Agamemnon, who had been + silent for some time; “we may have to spend the night here. I find I have + lost our checks for our clothes in the cloak-room!” + </p> + <p> + “Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra’s turban!” exclaimed Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “We should like to come every night,” cried the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “But to spend the night,” repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “But never to recover our cloaks,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “could not the + little boys look round for the checks on the floors?” + </p> + <p> + She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might never see + again. + </p> + <p> + She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,—her grandmother’s,—that + Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have made into a foot-rug. Now how + she wished she had! And there were Mr. Peterkin’s new overshoes, and + Agamemnon had brought an umbrella, and the little boys had their mittens. + Their india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the character of + birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth Eliza a muff. + Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home in the cold + without them? No, it would be better to wait till everybody had gone, and + then look carefully over the floors for the checks; if only the little + boys could know where Agamemnon had been, they were willing to look. Mr. + Peterkin was not sure as they would have time to reach the train. + </p> + <p> + Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the time. + He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and he thought it + would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear it. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the strains of “Home, Sweet Home” were heard from the band, + and people were seen preparing to go. + </p> + <p> + “All can go home, but we must stay,” said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, as the + well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + </p> + <p> + A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at them, + whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + </p> + <p> + “Can we do anything for you?” asked one at last. “Would you not like to + go?” He seemed eager they should leave the room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the checks + for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor when + everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not describe what they + had worn, in which case the loss of the checks was not so important, as + the crowds had now almost left, and it would not be difficult to identify + their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin eagerly declared she could describe every + article. + </p> + <p> + It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the quickly + deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their garments! Mrs. + Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness of the marshals; she + feared they had some pretext for getting the family out of the hall. Mrs. + Peterkin was one of those who never consent to be forced to anything. She + would not be compelled to go home, even with strains of music. She + whispered her suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came hastily up to + announce the time, which he had learned from the clock in the large hall. + They must leave directly if they wished to catch the latest train, as + there was barely time to reach it. + </p> + <p> + Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss the + train! + </p> + <p> + If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She was + the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed her, just in + time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + </p> + <p> + The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of their + friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so they had many + questions put to them which they were unable to answer. Still Mrs. + Peterkin’s turban was much admired, and indeed the whole appearance of the + family; so that they felt themselves much repaid for their exertions. + </p> + <p> + But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their friends; + but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, they walked very + slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys were sent on with the + pass-key to open the door. They soon returned with the startling + intelligence that it was not the right key, and they could not get in. It + was Mr. Peterkin’s office-key; he had taken it by mistake, or he might + have dropped the house-key in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + </p> + <p> + “Must we go back?” sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. More than + ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon’s invention in keys had + failed to secure a patent! + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been allowed to go + and spend the night with a friend, so there was no use in ringing, though + the little boys had tried it. + </p> + <p> + “We can return to the station,” said Mr. Peterkin; “the rooms will be + warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think what we + shall do next.” + </p> + <p> + At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the New York + midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the train went through at + half-past. + </p> + <p> + “I saw lights at the locksmith’s over the way, as I passed,” he said; “why + do not you send over to the young man there? He can get your door open for + you. I never would spend the night here.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John went over to “the young man,” who agreed to go up to the + house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open the door, and + come back to them on his way home. Solomon John came back to the station, + for it was now cold and windy in the deserted streets. The family made + themselves as comfortable as possible by the stove, sending Solomon John + out occasionally to look for the young man. But somehow Solomon John + missed him; the lights were out in the locksmith’s shop, so he followed + along to the house, hoping to find him there. + </p> + <p> + But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young man had + opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and Agamemnon went back + together, but they could not get in. Where was the young man? He had + lately come to town, and nobody knew where he lived, for on the return of + Solomon John and Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of the + young man. The night was wearing on. + </p> + <p> + The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came and went + looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her turban, as she sat by + the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last the station-master had to + leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to lock up the station, but he + promised to return at an early hour to release them. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “if we cannot even then get into our + own house?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had left + town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and helped himself to + spoons, and left. + </p> + <p> + Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. Solomon + John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only ventured to whisper his + suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse Mrs. Peterkin, who still was + nodding in the corner of the long bench. + </p> + <p> + Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; perhaps + by some effort in the early daylight they might make an entrance. + </p> + <p> + On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his beat. He + stopped when he saw the family. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that accounts,” he said; “you were all out last night, and the + burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a lively + young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had been a + minute late he would have made his way in”—The family then tried to + interrupt—to explain—“Where is he?” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Safe in the lock-up,” answered the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “But he is the locksmith!” interrupted Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “We have no key!” said Elizabeth Eliza; “if you have locked up the + locksmith we can never get in.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he + understood the case. + </p> + <p> + “The locksmith!” he exclaimed; “he is a new fellow, and I did not + recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, + that he may let you in!” and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin + family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him,” said Mr. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the + house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he appear + so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in the closet + of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, and, almost as + soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released locksmith, and a + few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. + </p> + <p> + The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the + policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, + pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the family + could go in. + </p> + <p> + Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. + Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. “I shall never go to another + carnival!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. + </h2> + <p> + YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and + deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly + postponed. + </p> + <p> + But here they were at last, at the “Old Farm,” so called, where seaside + attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they were + to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of Ann Maria + Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them there, though + she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very next day. + </p> + <p> + Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole thing + had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be sure, had + not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, wonderful to + tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and + the volumes of the Encyclopædia that might tell him how to manage it, and + Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used their + india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and carrying + one in each hand,—a very convenient way for travelling they + considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their + boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat + inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room enough + could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted to them. + </p> + <p> + There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and camera. + Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of the machine + going off; so an out-house was found for them, where Agamemnon and Solomon + John could arrange them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and + low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little stuffy at + first. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the farm was + evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he gave himself to + examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and the fields and vegetable + gardens, which were shown to him by a highly intelligent person, a Mr. + Atwood, who devoted himself to explaining to Mr. Peterkin all the details + of methods in the farming. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, when + they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach the beach. The + advertisements had surely stated that the “Old Farm” was directly on the + shore, and that sea-bathing would be exceedingly convenient; which was + hardly the case if it took you an hour and a half to walk to it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies between the + advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; but he was more + than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to remain and admire it, + while the rest of the family went to find the beach, starting off in a + wagon large enough to accommodate them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the family in a + row on the beach; but he decided not to take his camera out the first + afternoon. + </p> + <p> + This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached the beach. + </p> + <p> + “If this wagon were not so shaky,” said Mrs. Peterkin “we might drive over + every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, and I suppose + Agamemnon can turn on the beach.” + </p> + <p> + “We should have to spend the whole day about it,” said Solomon John, in a + discouraged tone, “unless we can have a quicker horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we should prefer that,” said Elizabeth Eliza, a little gloomily, + “to staying at the house.” + </p> + <p> + She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant and + fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was disappointed that + the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would understand the ways of the + place. Yet, again, she was somewhat relieved, for if their trunks did not + come till the next day, as was feared, she should have nothing but her + travelling dress to wear, which would certainly answer for to-night. + </p> + <p> + She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses for this + very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would hardly need them, + and was disappointed to have no chance to display them. But of course, + when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria came, all would be different; but they + would surely be wasted on the two old ladies she had seen, and on the old + men who had lounged about the porch; there surely was not a gentleman + among them. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as gentlemen wore + their exercise dress, and took a pride in going around in shocking hats + and flannel suits. Doubtless they would be dressed for dinner on their + return. + </p> + <p> + On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals by + themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating dinner or lunch. + There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, that might come under + either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were well pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea we should have really farm-fare,” Mrs. Peterkin said. “I + have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first meal, as + evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in spite of the + numerous letters that had been exchanged. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment of + their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining to go to + the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and horses; and all the + way over to the beach the other little boys were hopping in and out of the + wagon, which never went too fast, to pick long mullein-stalks, for whips + to urge on the reluctant horse with, or to gather huckleberries, with + which they were rejoiced to find the fields were filled, although, as yet, + the berries were very green. + </p> + <p> + They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; but + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it + was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + </p> + <p> + On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the same + old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. + </p> + <p> + “A little seedy, I should say,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Smoking pipes,” said Agamemnon; “I believe that is the latest style.” + </p> + <p> + “The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable,” Mrs. Peterkin was + forced to say. + </p> + <p> + There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where they were + to be put, and as to their meals. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, who + were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them was + very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered from a + moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort of + factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of + invalids to appear. + </p> + <p> + “Regular bed-ridden,” Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza did + not consider respectful. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the house, + very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it in admirable + order. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and + ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and + tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted + that it was to be “tea,” and if they were unused to a late dinner they + might be disturbed if they had only provided a “tea.” + </p> + <p> + So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised when + Martha replied, “The lady must say,” nodding to Mrs. Peterkin. “She can + have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!” + </p> + <p> + This was an unexpected courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they took it a long time ago,” Martha answered. “If the lady will go + out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring us in what you have,” said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry. “If + you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps some eggs,” murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Scrambled,” cried one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “Fried potatoes would not be bad,” suggested Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t we have some onions?” asked the little boy who had stayed at + home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their supper. + </p> + <p> + “A pie would come in well,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And some stewed cherries,” said the other little boy. + </p> + <p> + Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, when, in + the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended appeared. Their + appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food the same. + </p> + <p> + “This is true Arab hospitality,” said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his juicy + beefsteak. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. “We have + not even seen the host and hostess.” + </p> + <p> + She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her when the + Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room was in + the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the aged deaf + and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by perplexed + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances, would + have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or the + Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to? She + fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both + parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any use in + sending to the Sylvesters’ usual address, which she knew well by this + time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would know + they had not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. + Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where people were + going to, and where to send their letters. She might, at least, write two + letters, to say that they—the Peterkins—had arrived, and were + disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she could add that their + trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their friends might look out for them + on their way. It really seemed a good plan to write. Yet another question + came up, as to how she would get her letters to the post-office, as she + had already learned it was at quite a distance, and in a different + direction from the station, where they were to send the next day for their + trunks. + </p> + <p> + She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the coughing + and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin partition. + </p> + <p> + She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by the + morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of fowl. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and + declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + </p> + <p> + They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach only + in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was appointed + at noon. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. “Such a straight road, and the beach + such a safe place to turn round upon!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the + station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably + left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been + switched off upon one of the White Mountain trains. There was no use to + write any letters, as there was no way to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now + almost hoped the Sylvesters would not come, for what should she do if the + trunks did not come and all her new dresses? On her way over to the beach + she had been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and + cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their time was + spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she would prefer + that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses and the trunks did. + All she could find out, from inquiry, on returning, was, “that another lot + was expected on Saturday.” The next day she suggested:—“Suppose we + take our dinner with us to the beach, and spend the day.” The Sylvesters + and Ann Maria then would find them on the beach, where her + travelling-dress would be quite appropriate. “I am a little tired,” she + added, “of going back and forward over the same road; but when the rest + come we can vary it.” + </p> + <p> + The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys remained to + go over the farm again. + </p> + <p> + They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a ledge of + sand. + </p> + <p> + They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of people + approaching from the other end of the beach. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last,” said Elizabeth + Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + </p> + <p> + As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria Bromwick! And with + her were the Sylvesters,—so they proved to be, for she had never + seen them before. + </p> + <p> + “What! you have come in our absence!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And we have been wondering what had become of you!” cried Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would be at the farm before us,” said Elizabeth Eliza to + Mr. + </p> + <p> + Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + </p> + <p> + “We have been looking for you at the farm,” he was saying to her. + </p> + <p> + “But we are at the farm,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And so are we!” said Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “We have been there two days,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “And so have we, at the ‘Old Farm,’ just at the end of the beach,” said + Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “Our farm is old enough,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Whereabouts are you?” asked Mr. Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + </p> + <p> + A smile came over Mr. Sylvester’s face; he knew the country well. + </p> + <p> + “You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over the faces + of all the party. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is the Poor-house!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “The town farm,” Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women there!” said + Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + </p> + <p> + “But we have surely been made very comfortable,” Mrs. Peterkin declared. + </p> + <p> + “A very simple mistake,” said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his amusement. + “Your trunks arrived all right at the ‘Old Farm,’ two days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go back directly,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “As directly as our horse will allow,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. “Your rooms are awaiting you,” + he said. “Why not come with us?” + </p> + <p> + “We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else,” said Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Do you suppose they + took us for paupers?” + </p> + <p> + “We have not seen any ‘they,’” said Solomon John, “except Mr. Atwood.” + </p> + <p> + At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + </p> + <p> + “I have been looking for you,” he said. “I have just made a discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “We have made it, too,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “we are in the poor-house.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you find it out?” Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been brought to + him from the station, which he ought to have got two days ago. It came + from a Mr. Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his wife + and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to say he + cannot come till Friday. Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the + Peterses, whom he had sent for the day we arrived, not having received + this telegram.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see, I see!” said Mrs. Peterkin; “and we did get into a muddle at + the station!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. “I beg pardon,” he said. “I hope you + have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you stay till + Mr. Peters’ family comes.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with an open + wagon, to take the Peterkins to the “Old Farm.” + </p> + <p> + Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, “Beg + pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and putting you in + that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to take you off every day + with the other gentlemen, that looked so wandering.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till Friday. + But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave with Mr. Sylvester, and + to take their electrical machine and camera when they came for Mr. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened once more + by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. There was not much + packing to be done. She shouted good-by into the ears of the deaf old + lady, and waved her hand to the foreign one, and glad to bid farewell to + the old men with their pipes, leaning against the porch. + </p> + <p> + “This time,” she said, “it is not our trunks that were lost” + </p> + <p> + “But we, as a family,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. 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Hale + +Release Date: October, 2001 [Etext #3028] +Posting Date: October 27, 2009 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed + + + + + +THE PETERKIN PAPERS + +By Lucretia P. Hale + + +Mrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee. + +Dedicated + +To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) + +To Whom These Stories Were First Told + + + + +Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + +THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for +the "Young Folks." They were afterwards continued in numbers of the "St. +Nicholas." + +A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never +before been published, "The Peterkins at the Farm." + +It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about +publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter +to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she might +happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her. + +Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, and +everybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, and +help it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and all +her servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take so +long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could they +get the whole subject on a postal? + +Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but one +question:-- + +Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + +This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family to +sign, the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of their +india-rubber boots. + +Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to the +post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day, +and all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers on +postals and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady from +Philadelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been read +by their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it must +have been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals and +letters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in the +same tone: "Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family." + +"Publish them, of course." + +And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:--"Yes, of +course; publish them." + +This is why they were published. + + + + +THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. + +THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious +cup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found +she had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? +Of course she couldn't drink the coffee; so she called in the family, +for she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in; +they all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and all +sat down to think. + +At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, "Why don't we go over +and ask the advice of the chemist?" (For the chemist lived over the +way, and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, "Yes," and Mr. +Peterkin said, "Very well," and all the children said they would go too. +So the little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went. + +Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turn +everything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle into +which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuable +things, and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost found +what he wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now he +had used up all the gold that he had round the house, and gold was +high. He had used up his wife's gold thimble and his great-grandfather's +gold-bowed spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of his +great-great-grandfather's cane; and, just as the Peterkin family came +in, he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him have +her wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knew +he should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; and +then she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeralds +and rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into the +finest of gold. + +Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in. +You can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing his +crucible--that was the name of his melting-pot--at their heads. But he +didn't. He listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs. +Peterkin had put salt in her coffee. + +At first he said he couldn't do anything about it; but when Agamemnon +said they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up his +bottles in a leather case, and went back with them all. + +First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a +little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it +tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. +But Mrs. Peterkin didn't like that. Then he added some tartaric acid +and some hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. "I have it!" +exclaimed the chemist,--"a little ammonia is just the thing!" No, it +wasn't the thing at all. + +Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric, +chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic, +nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and said +the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then he +tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clear +bitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. +This gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs. + +Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist +was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some +granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing +off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not +satisfied. + +The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the +salt. The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed. +Perhaps a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all +the time he could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all +much obliged to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold +was now 2.69 3/4, so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave +Agamemnon a pretty little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there +was the coffee! All sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, +"Why don't we go to the herb-woman?" Elizabeth Eliza was the only +daughter. She was named after her two aunts,--Elizabeth, from the sister +of her father; Eliza, from her mother's sister. Now, the herb-woman was +an old woman who came round to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They +all shouted with joy at the idea of asking her, and Solomon John and +the younger children agreed to go and find her too. The herb-woman +lived down at the very end of the street; so the boys put on their +india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It was a long walk through +the village, but they came at last to the herb-woman's house, at the +foot of a high hill. They went through her little garden. Here she had +marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and tall sunflowers, and all +kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air was full of tansy-tea +and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and a brandy-cherry +tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung its delicious +fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, which smelt very +spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and peppermint, and +all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the ceiling; and on the +shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the like. + +But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to +get some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow +her,--Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to +climb up over high rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black +berry-vines. But the little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last +they discovered the little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was +steeple-crowned, without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel +round a sassafras bush. They told her their story,---how their mother had +put salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead +of better, and how their mother couldn't drink it, and wouldn't she +come and see what she could do? And she said she would, and took up her +little old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with everlasting +and pennyroyal, and went back to her house. + +There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all the +kinds of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seed +and dill, spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil and +rosemary, wild thyme and some of the other time,---such as you have in +clocks,--sappermint and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, +there isn't a kind of herb you can think of that the little old woman +didn't have done up in her little paper bags, that had all been dried in +her little Dutch-oven. She packed these all up, and then went back with +the children, taking her stick. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee. + +As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, and +began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop for +the bitter. Mrs. + +Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then +she tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, and +some caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoram +and sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint and +peppermint, some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, some +tansy and basil, and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, and +pennyroyal. The children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadful +faces. Mrs. Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old woman +stirred, and the more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + +So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and said +she must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up her +packets of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick, +and went back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in the +air and half out. And all she would take for pay was five cents in +currency. + +Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while. +It was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn't had her cup +of coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, "They say that the lady from +Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and ask +her what is best to be done." To this they all agreed, it was a great +thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + +She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,--how her mother had +put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he tried +everything but could make it no better; and how they went for the little +old herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother couldn't +drink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very attentively, +and then said, "Why doesn't your mother make a fresh cup of coffee?" +Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise. + +Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finished +his sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. "Why didn't we +think of that?" said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to their +mother, and she had her cup of coffee. + + + + +ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA'S PIANO. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of +the postmaster's daughter. + +They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and +the carters brought it in, and went away. + +After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but +they found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the +middle of the room, standing close against the window. + +How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play +upon it? + +Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which Agamemnon +could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon +the piazza, and open the piano. Then she could have her music-stool on +the piazza, and play upon the piano there. + +So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to +see Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the piazza, +with the honeysuckle vines behind her. + +It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked to +take a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family liked to +sit on the piazza. + +So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + +All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall came, +Mr. Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open window, and the +family did not want to sit out on the piazza. + +Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was +obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so. + +One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, she spoke +of this trouble. + +The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, "But why +don't you turn the piano round?" + +One of the little boys pertly said, "It is a square piano." + +But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of Agamemnon +and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + +"Why did we not think of that before?" said Mrs. Peterkin. "What shall +we do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?" + + + + +THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. + +THEY were sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they +should do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. "If," said +Mrs. Peterkin, "we could only be more wise as a family!" How could they +manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the children all went to +school; but still as a family they were not wise. "It comes from books," +said one of the family. "People who have a great many books are very +wise." Then they counted up that there were very few books in the +house,--a few school-books and Mrs. Peterkin's cook-book were all. + +"That's the thing!" said Agamemnon. "We want a library." + +"We want a library!" said Solomon John. And all of them exclaimed, "We +want a library!" + +"Let us think how we shall get one," said Mrs. Peterkin. "I have +observed that other people think a great deal of thinking." + +So they all sat and thought a great while. + +Then said Agamemnon, "I will make a library. There are some boards in +the wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails, and perhaps we can +borrow some hinges, and there we have our library!" + +They were all very much pleased at the idea. + +"That's the book-case part," said Elizabeth Eliza; "but where are the +books?" + +So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, "I +will make a book!" + +They all looked at him in wonder. + +"Yes," said Solomon John, "books will make us wise, but first I must +make a book." + +So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But there was +no ink. + +What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that +nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make some. +The little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the woods. +So they all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins put on her +cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and +off they went. + +The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else in the +woods,--chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a great many +squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they found any +nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket and two nutgalls +in it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. Peterkin had used her +very last on some beets they had the day before. "Suppose we go and +ask the minister's wife," said Elizabeth Eliza. So they all went to +the minister's wife. She said if they wanted some good vinegar they had +better set a barrel of cider down in the cellar, and in a year or two +it would make very nice vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very +afternoon. When the minister's wife heard this, she said she should be +very glad to let them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry +home. + +So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they had +very good ink. + +Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, but Solomon +John said, "Poets always used quills." Elizabeth Eliza suggested that +they should go out to the poultry-yard and get a quill. But it was +already dark. They had, however, two lanterns, and the little +boys borrowed the neighbors'. They set out in procession for the +poultry-yard. When they got there, the fowls were all at roost, so they +could look at them quietly. + + + + +SOLOMON JOHN'S BOOK. + +But there were no geese! There were Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and +Guinea hens, and Barbary hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, +and bantams, and ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! "No geese but +ourselves," said Mrs. Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. +The sight of this procession roused up the village. "A torchlight +procession!" cried all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the +house, shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, +and give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them +that it was only his family visiting his hens. + +After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of his +writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore to get a +quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was just shutting up +his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and +they hurried home. + +So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And now the +bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the mail was about +in, and perhaps he should have a letter, and then they could use the +envelope to write upon. So they all went to the post-office, and the +little boys had their india-rubber boots on, and they all shouted when +they found Mr. Peterkin had a letter. The postmaster inquired what +they were shouting about; and when they told him, he said he would give +Solomon John a whole sheet of paper for his book. And they all went back +rejoicing. + +So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table looking +at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped his pen into +the ink and held it over the paper, and thought a minute, and then said, +"But I haven't got anything to say." + + + + +MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. + +ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been +having a great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, "I +believe I shall take a ride this morning!" + +And the little boys cried out, "Oh, may we go too?" + +Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + +So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and +Agamemnon went off to their business, and Solomon John to school; and +Mrs. Peterkin began to get ready for her ride. + +She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, and some +gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza wanted to pick some +flowers to take to the minister's wife, so it took them a long time to +prepare. + +The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, and +Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin put on her +cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little boys were in +their india-rubber boots, and they got into the carriage. + +Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took up +the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly stopped, +and would not go any farther. + +Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she clucked +to the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little boys whistled +and shouted; but still the horse would not go. + +"We shall have to whip him," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse would +not go, she said she would get out and turn her head the other way, +while Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he began to go she +would hurry and get in. + +So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + +"Perhaps we have too heavy a load," said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got in. + +So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, but +still the horse would not go. + +One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just then, +called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, and they +could not hear exactly what she said. + +"I have tried the whip," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"She says 'whips,' such as you eat," said one of the little boys. + +"We might make those," said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + +"We have got plenty of cream," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Yes, let us have some whips," cried the little boys, getting out. + +And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and the wind +was very high. + +So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and made some +very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all round, and they all +thought they were very nice. + +They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very quickly. + +"That is just what he wanted," said Mrs. Peterkin; "now he will +certainly go!" + +So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and the +gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and +they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + +"We must either give up our ride," said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, "or +else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she will +say." + +The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were eager to +go and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza went with them, +while her mother took the reins. + +They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, and +was in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, she very +kindly said they might draw up the curtain from the window at the foot +of the bed, and open the blinds, and she would see. Then she asked for +her opera-glass, and looked through it, across the way, up the street, +to Mrs. Peterkin's door. + +After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned her +head back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then said, +"Why don't you unchain the horse from the horse-post?" + +Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then +hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was untied, +and they all went to ride. + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. + +ANOTHER little incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at +dinner-time. + +They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of the +children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half liked +lean. Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham turned out to +be a very remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate +slices,--first one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, +and so on. Mr. Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, +according to their age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; +and Elizabeth Eliza, who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, +who could eat nothing but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had +what he could eat. + +It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the +vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children saw +upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet potato and +sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because not one was +satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat +and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they looked up and saw +the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into +their plates. + +"What is the matter now?" said Mr. Peterkin. + +But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, however, +made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her lean, and +so on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty. + +"What shall be done now?" said Mrs. Peterkin. + +They all sat and thought for a little while. + +At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, "Suppose we ask the lady +from Philadelphia what is best to be done." + +But Mr. Peterkin said he didn't like to go to her for everything; let +the children try and eat their dinner as it was. + +And they all tried, but they couldn't. "Very well, then." said Mr. +Peterkin, "let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia." + +"All of us?" cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the +moment. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin, "only put on your india-rubber boots." +And they hurried out of the house. + +The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she +kindly stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon +and Elizabeth Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from +Philadelphia said, "But why don't you give the slices of fat to those +who like the fat, and the slices of lean to those who like the lean?" + +They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza, and +Solomon John looked at the little boys. "Why didn't we think of that?" +said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + + + + +WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. + +THE trouble was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the +dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up +from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she +could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach +it. All the family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in +vain; the dinner could not be stirred. + +"No dinner!" exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"I am quite hungry," said Solomon John. + +At last Mr. Peterkin said, "I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the +kitchen." + +This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one +went down, taking a napkin. + +The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the +family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but she +could not move it down. + +The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between +the kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it! + +"What is there for dinner?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"Roast turkey," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + +"Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato," Mrs. Peterkin continued. + +"Sweet potato!" exclaimed both the little boys. + +"I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry," said Mrs. Peterkin, +anxious to find a bright point. + +"Let us sit down and think about it," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"I have an idea," said Agamemnon, after a while. + +"Let us hear it," said Mr. Peterkin. "Let each one speak his mind." + +"The turkey," said Agamemnon, "must be just above the kitchen door. If I +had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach it." + +"That is a great idea," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"If you think you could do it," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Would it not be better to have a carpenter?" asked Elizabeth Eliza. + +"A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have +neither," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"A carpenter! A carpenter!" exclaimed the rest. + +It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys +should go in search of a carpenter. + +Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a book; for +he had another idea. + +"This affair of the turkey," he said, "reminds me of those buried cities +that have been dug out,--Herculaneum, for instance." + +"Oh, yes," interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, "and Pompeii." + +"Yes," said Agamemnon, "they found there pots and kettles. Now, +I should like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a book and +read. I think it was done with a pickaxe." + +So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter's +shop, there was no carpenter to be found there. + +"He must be at his house, eating his dinner," suggested Solomon John. + +"Happy man," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, "he has a dinner to eat!" + +They went to the carpenter's house, but found he had gone out of town +for a day's job. But his wife told them that he always came back at +night to ring the nine-o'clock bell. + +"We must wait till then," said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at +cheerfulness. + +At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down to hear of +Herculaneum and Pompeii. + +Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to have +tea when they had had no dinner? A part of the family thought it would +not do; the rest wanted tea. + +"I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was here not +long ago," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Let us try to think what she would advise us," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"I wish she were here," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"I think," said Mr. Peterkin, "she would say, let them that want tea +have it; the rest can go without." + +So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much was +eaten, as there had been no dinner. + +When the nine-o'clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon John, and the +little boys rushed to the church, and found the carpenter. + +They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it might +be a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + +When the matter was explained to him, he went into the dining-room, +looked into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and arranged the weight, +and pulled up the dinner. + +There was a family shout. + +"The trouble was in the weight," said the carpenter. + +"That is why it is called a dumb-waiter," Solomon John explained to the +little boys. + +The dinner was put upon the table. + +Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for the +next day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + +But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda warmed +over the vegetables. + +"Patient waiters are no losers," said Agamemnon. + + + + +THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY. + +IN fact, it was their last summer's journey--for it had been planned +then; but there had been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + +The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a trunk +suitable for travelling. + +Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a week at a +time at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for Elizabeth Eliza +when she went to the seminary. Solomon John and Mr. Peterkin, each +had his patent-leather hand-bag. But all these were too small for the +family. And the little boys wanted to carry their kite. + +Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother's trunk. This was a hair-trunk, +very large and capacious. It would hold everything they would want to +carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza's trunk, or the valise +and bags. + +Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next day +the things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin's room, for her to see +if they could all be packed. + +"If we can get along," said Elizabeth Eliza, "without having to ask +advice, I shall be glad!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "It is time now for people to be coming to ask +advice of us." + +The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things that were +already in the trunk. Here were last year's winter things, and not +only these, but old clothes that had been put away,--Mrs. Peterkin's +wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear before they put +on jackets and trousers. + +All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old +things, putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could +think of, both summer and winter ones, because you never can tell what +sort of weather you will have. + +Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. There were +her own and Elizabeth Eliza's best bonnets in a bandbox; also Solomon +John's hats, for he had an old one and a new one. He bought a new hat +for fishing, with a very wide brim and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + +Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas still +larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + +"I have never had a chance to look at them," he said; "but when one +travels, then is the time to study geography." + +Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin packed +his tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her just as +she had packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it would help to +smooth the dresses, and placed it on top; but she was forced to take all +out, and set it at the bottom. This was not so much matter, as she had +not yet the right dresses to put in. Both Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth +Eliza would need new dresses for this occasion. The little boys' hoops +went in; so did their india-rubber boots, in case it should not rain +when they started. They each had a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, +that were packed. + +Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second day +to see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even the little +boys' kite lay smoothly on the top. + +"I like to see a thing so nicely done," said Mr. Peterkin. + +The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to move +it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John could lift it alone, +or all together. + +Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of it. + +"Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things." + +"But we did not plan expressing it," said Mrs. Peterkin, in a +discouraged tone. + +"We can take a carriage," said Solomon John. + +"I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage," +said Mrs. + +Peterkin. + +"The hackman could not lift it, either," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"People do travel with a great deal of baggage," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And with very large trunks," said Agamemnon. + +"Still they are trunks that can be moved," said Mr. Peterkin, giving +another try at the trunk in vain. "I am afraid we must give it up," he +said; "it would be such a trouble in going from place to place." + +"We would not mind if we got it to the place," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"But how to get it there?" Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + +"This is our first obstacle," said Agamemnon; "we must do our best to +conquer it." + +"What is an obstacle?" asked the little boys. + +"It is the trunk," said Solomon John. + +"Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary," said Agamemnon, +taking the large volume from the trunk. "Ah, here it is--" And he read:-- +"OBSTACLE, an impediment." + +"That is a worse word than the other," said one of the little boys. + +"But listen to this," and Agamemnon continued: "Impediment is something +that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands in the way; +obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; hinderance, something +that holds back." + +"The trunk is all these," said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + +"It does not entangle the feet," said Solomon John, "for it can't move." + +"I wish it could," said the little boys together. + +Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the trunk +and putting them away. + +"At least," she said, "this has given me some experience in packing." + +And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + +But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested that +they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the station; +the little boys could go and come with the things. But Elizabeth Eliza +thought the place too public. + +Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + +At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a +good-sized family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the +journey was put off from that summer. + +But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family consultation +was held about packing it. Many things would have to be left at home, it +was so much smaller than the grandmother's hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had +been studying the atlas through the winter, and felt familiar with the +more important places, so it would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. +Peterkin decided to leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. With +great care and discretion, and by borrowing two more leather bags, it +could be accomplished. Everything of importance could be packed, except +the little boys' kite. What should they do about that? + +The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon John +and Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + +"I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of the +lady from Philadelphia," said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + +"She has come on here," said Agamemnon, "and we have not been to see her +this summer." + +"She may think we have been neglecting her," suggested Mr. Peterkin. + +The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion about the +kite. + +They came back in high spirits. + +"She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite when we +get there," they cried. + +"What a sensible idea!" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; "and I may have leisure +to help you." + +"We'll take plenty of newspapers," said Solomon John. + +"And twine," said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + +The question then was, "When should they go?" + + + + +THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. + +MRS. PETERKIN awoke one morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The +wind had flung the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the +house, and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering +hedges and fences. + +Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but nothing +could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white snow. Even Mr. +Bromwick's house, on the opposite side of the street, was hidden by the +swift-falling flakes. + +"What shall I do about it?" thought Mrs. Peterkin. "No roads +cleared out! Of course there'll be no butcher and no milkman!" + +The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for +there was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no knowing +when they would have anything more to eat. + +It was best to secure the breakfast first. + +So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, waking +the family, and before long all were dressed and downstairs. + +And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + +All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was frozen. +They could open the door into the wood-house; but the wood-house door +into the yard was banked up with snow; and the front door, and the +piazza door, and the side door stuck. Nobody could get in or out! + +Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the kitchen fire, +but had discovered there was no furnace coal. + +"The furnace coal was to have come to-day," said Mrs. Peterkin, +apologetically. + +"Nothing will come to-day," said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + +But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + +All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little boys +were much pleased to have "ice-cream" for breakfast. + +"When we get a little warm," said Mr. Peterkin, "we will consider what +is to be done." + +"I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday," said Mrs. Peterkin. "I +was to have had a leg of mutton to-day." + +"Nothing will come to-day," said Agamemnon, gloomily. + +"Are these sausages the last meat in the house?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had +meant to order more flour that very day. + +"Then we are eating our last provisions," said Solomon John, helping +himself to another sausage. + +"I almost wish we had stayed in bed," said Agamemnon. + +"I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first," repeated Mrs. +Peterkin. + +"Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"There's the pig!" suggested Solomon John. + +Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and could be +reached under cover. + +But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + +"We should have to 'corn' part of him," said Agamemnon. + +"My butcher has always told me," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that if I wanted a +ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have not the ham!" + +"Perhaps we could 'corn' one or two of his legs," suggested one of the +little boys. + +"We need not settle that now," said Mr. Peterkin. "At least the pig +will keep us from starving." + +The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + +"If we had only decided to keep a cow," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Alas! yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "one learns a great many things too +late!" + +"Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!" exclaimed the little +boys. + +Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were +quite pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and hurried +through their breakfasts that they might go and try to shovel out a path +from one of the doors. + +"I ought to know more about the water-pipes," said Mr. Peterkin. "Now, I +shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I forgot to; and +I ought to have shut it off in the cellar." + +The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were +going to try the side door. + +"Another thing I have learned to-day," said Mr. Peterkin, "is not to +have all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm blows the +snow against all the doors." + +Solomon John started up. + +"Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!" he +exclaimed. + +"Of what use," asked Mr. Peterkin, "since we have no door on the east +side?" + +"We could cut one," said Solomon John. + +"Yes, we could cut a door," exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?" asked Elizabeth +Eliza,--"for there is no window." + +In fact, the east side of the Peterkins' house formed a blank wall. The +owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached houses. He +had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + +"It is not necessary to see," said Agamemnon, profoundly; "of course, +if the storm blows against this side of the house, the house itself must +keep the snow from the other side." + +"Yes," said Solomon John, "there must be a space clear of snow +on the east side of the house, and if we could open a way to that "--"We +could open a way to the butcher," said Mr. Peterkin, promptly. + +Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house ever since +the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + +"What part of the wall had we better attack?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + +"What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?" she +exclaimed. "Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?" + +"It is right to preserve ourselves from starving," said Mr. Peterkin. +"The drowning man must snatch at a straw!" + +"It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the +thaw comes," said Elizabeth Eliza, "than that he should find us lying +about the house, dead of hunger, upon the floor." + +Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + +The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not succeeded in +opening the side door, and were planning trying to open the door from +the wood-house to the garden. + +"That would be of no use," said Mrs. Peterkin, "the butcher cannot get +into the garden." + +"But we might shovel off the snow," suggested one of the little +boys, "and dig down to some of last year's onions." + +Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had been bringing +together their carpenter's tools, and Elizabeth Eliza proposed using a +gouge, if they would choose the right spot to begin. + +The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to find,--one, +a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda armed herself with +a poker. + +"It would be better to begin on the ground floor," said Mr. +Peterkin. + +"Except that we may meet with a stone foundation," said Solomon John. + +"If the wall is thinner upstairs," said Agamemnon, "it will do as well +to cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher may bring +below in his cart." + +Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable +place, and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually cut +a bit out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. Solomon John +confided to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of stories of prisoners +who cut themselves free, through stone walls, after days and days of +secret labor. + +Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. She was +interrupted by a voice behind her. + +"Here's your leg of mutton, marm!" + +It was the butcher. How had he got in? + +"Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back gate +is kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I could not make +anybody hear me knock at the side door." + +"But how did you make a path to the door?" asked Mr. Peterkin. "You must +have been working at it a long time. It must be near noon now." + +"I'm about on regular time," answered the butcher. "The town +team has cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down the last +half-hour. The storm is over." + +True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had +not noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + +"And we were all up an hour earlier than usual," said Mr. Peterkin, +when the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a +pickaxe in his hand. + +"If we had lain abed till the usual time," said Solomon John, "we should +have been all right." + +"For here is the milkman!" said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now +heard at the side door. + +"It is a good thing to learn," said Mr. Peterkin, "not to get up any +earlier than is necessary." + + + + +THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. + +NOT that they were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. +But for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a +cow, to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be so +healthy. + +Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and +how near they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe +snow-storm, and the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If +the cow-shed could open out of the wood-shed, such trouble might be +prevented. + +Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, and +Agamemnon and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, in case Tony +should be "snowed up," or have the whooping-cough in the course of the +winter. The little boys thought they knew how already. + +But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it +was important to know where to keep it. + +"One way will be," said Mrs. Peterkin, "to use a great deal every day. +We will make butter." + +"That will be admirable," thought Mr. Peterkin. + +"And custards," suggested Solomon John. + +"And syllabub," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And cocoa-nut cakes," exclaimed the little boys. + +"We don't need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of +a cow. You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would be +pleasant climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "we shall have to feed the cow." + +"Where shall we pasture her?" asked Agamemnon. + +"Up on the hills, up on the hills," exclaimed the little boys, "where +there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes!" + +Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the house. + +"But I don't know," he said, "but the cow might eat off all the grass in +one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless the grass +grew fast enough every night." + +Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy season the +grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might not grow at all. + +"I suppose," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that is the worst of having a +cow,--there might be a drought." + +Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the quantity +of grass in the lot. + +Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by seeing how +much grass the Bromwicks' cow, opposite them, eat up in a day. + +The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the Bromwicks' +fence, and take an observation. + +"The trouble would be," said Elizabeth Eliza, "that cows walk about so, +and the Bromwicks' yard is very large. Now she would be eating in one +place, and then she would walk to another. She would not be eating all +the time, a part of the time she would be chewing." + +The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have +some sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the +calculations were made. + +But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + +"Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the place, +and very likely they would make the cow angry." + +Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. Peterkin's +lot for his cow. + +Mr. Peterkin started up. + +"That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there was feed +enough for one cow." + +"And the reason you didn't let him have it," said Solomon John, "was +that Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows." + +"I did not like the idea," said Elizabeth Eliza, "of their cow's +looking at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be +planting the sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a quiet +one. I should not like her jumping over the fence into the flower-beds." + +Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest kind. + +"I should think something might be done about covering her horns," said +Mrs. + +Peterkin; "that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might be +padded with cotton." + +Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if they +came at you they could not help knocking you over. + +The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. Half +the fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after her. + +Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + +"The cow would like it ever so much better," the little boys +declared, "on account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks and +the bushes, she could walk round and find the grassy places." + +"I am not sure," said Elizabeth Eliza, "but it would be less dangerous +to keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because she would not be +coming and going, morning and night, in that jerky way the Larkins' cows +come home. They don't mind which gate they rush in at. I should hate to +have our cow dash into our front yard just as I was coming home of an +afternoon." + +"That is true," said Mr. Peterkin; "we can have the door of the +cow-house open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and +going." + +The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the +exercise, and they would lose a great pleasure. + +Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch the +cow. + +It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they were to +put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build a dairy. + +The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the family +stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly walking into +the shed. + +Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. It +was the one she did her gardening in, and it might have infuriated the +cow. And she kept out of the garden the first day or two. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of milk-pans, of +every size. + +But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + +The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza +said she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, though she +would like to do her best to patronize the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking care +of the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she was sure the +pans and the closet were all clean. + +"Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from Philadelphia +to try," said Elizabeth Eliza; "it will be a pretty attention before she +goes." + +"It might be awkward if she didn't like it," said Solomon John. "Perhaps +something is the matter with the grass." + +"I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday," said one of the little boys, +remorsefully. + +Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all to +the lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + +The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the milk +was sour! + +"I was afraid it was so," said Mrs. Peterkin; "but I didn't know what to +expect from these new kinds of cows." + +The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + +"In the new dairy," answered Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Is that in a cool place?" asked the lady from Philadelphia. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + +"Is it near the chimney?" inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + +"It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range," replied +Elizabeth Eliza. "I suppose it is too hot!" + +"Well, well!" said Mrs. Peterkin, "that is it! Last winter the milk +froze, and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall we put our +dairy?" + + + + +THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE. + +EARLY in the autumn the Peterkins began to prepare for their +Christmas-tree. + +Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to the +neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin had been +up to Mr. + +Bromwick's wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. Agamemnon +went to look at it occasionally after dark, and Solomon John made +frequent visits to it mornings, just after sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove +Elizabeth Eliza and her mother that way, and pointed furtively to it +with his whip; but none of them ever spoke of it aloud to each other. +It was suspected that the little boys had been to see it Wednesday +and Saturday afternoons. But they came home with their pockets full of +chestnuts, and said nothing about it. + +At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into the +Larkin's barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement was made of +it with Elizabeth Eliza's yard-measure. To Mr. Peterkin's great dismay +it was discovered that it was too high to stand in the back parlor. + +This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, +Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + +Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. Peterkin +was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles would drip. + +But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the ceiling +of the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of the tree. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It must +not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "I should have the ceiling lifted all across +the room; the effect would be finer." + +Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, because +her room was over the back parlor, and she would have no floor while the +alteration was going on, which would be very awkward. Besides, her room +was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, perhaps she could +not walk in it upright. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn't propose altering the whole +ceiling, but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part where +the tree was to stand. + +This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza's room; but it +would go across the whole room. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the cuddy +thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit against, only +here you would not have the sea-sickness. She thought she should like +it, for a rarity. She might use it for a divan. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the carpet, and +might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + +Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the matter +secret, for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; but Mr. +Peterkin proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, for a number of +other jobs. + +One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same height, +for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting down in a chair +that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, and it had proved to +be two inches lower. The little boys were now large enough to sit in +any chair; so a medium was fixed upon to satisfy all the family, and the +chairs were made uniformly of the same height. + +On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree could be +cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, and demurred +at so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. Peterkin had set +his mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had cut her carpet in +preparation for it. + +So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for nearly a +fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen plastering, +and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth Eliza's carpet was +taken up, and the furniture had to be changed, and one night she had +to sleep at the Bromwicks', for there was a long hole in her floor that +might be dangerous. + +All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what was +going on. + +Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know why a +Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still more astonished +at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza's room. It must be a +Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + +Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, with +some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of the little +boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and mystery, behind +doors, and under the stairs, and in the corners of the entry. + +Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the tree. He +had been collecting some bayberries, as he understood they made very +nice candles, so that it would not be necessary to buy any. + +The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor together, +and all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin would go in +with Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth Eliza, or Elizabeth +Eliza and Agamemnon and Solomon John. The little boys and the small +cousins were never allowed even to look inside the room. + +Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She wanted +to consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should need, and whether +they could make it at home, as they had cream and ice. She was pretty +busy in her own room; the furniture had to be changed, and the carpet +altered. The "hump" was higher than she expected. There was danger +of bumping her own head whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some +padding on the ceiling for fear of accidents. + +The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and their +father collected in the back parlor for a council. The carpenters had +done their work, and the tree stood at its full height at the back of +the room, the top stretching up into the space arranged for it. All the +chips and shavings were cleared away, and it stood on a neat box. + +But what were they to put upon the tree? + +Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they proved to be +very "stringy" and very few of them. It was strange how many bayberries +it took to make a few candles! The little boys had helped him, and +he had gathered as much as a bushel of bayberries. He had put them in +water, and skimmed off the wax, according to the directions; but there +was so little wax! + +Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off from +the legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should cover them +with gilt paper, to answer for gilt apples, without telling them what +they were for. + +These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they +had for the tree! + +After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring +anything for it. + +"I thought of candies and sugar-plums," she said; "but I concluded if we +made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, then, we have not +made caramels. The fact is, that day my head was full of my carpet. I +had bumped it pretty badly, too." + +Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an apple-tree +he had seen in October, full of red fruit. + +"But the leaves would have fallen off by this time," said Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"And the apples, too," said Solomon John. + +"It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to get +the things," said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. "But I went from shop +to shop, and didn't know exactly what to get. I saw a great many gilt +things for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys were making +the gilt apples; there were plenty of candles in the shops, but I knew +Solomon John was making the candles." + +Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + +Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into town now. + +Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to be +a grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be spared, and +Solomon John was sure he and Agamemnon would not know what to buy. +Besides, they would want to try the candles to-night. + +Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing would +not answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too heavy. + +A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam from one +of Solomon John's candles that he had lighted by way of trial. + +Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match to +examine the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of trains +coming out at that hour, but none going in except a very late one. That +would not leave time to do anything and come back. + +"We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I," said Solomon John, "but we +should not have time to buy anything." + +Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the uncles and +aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there was time to study +up something about electric lights. If they could only have a calcium +light! Solomon John's candle sputtered and went out. + +At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The +little boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and Mrs. +Peterkin, hastened to see what was the matter. + +The uncles and aunts thought somebody's house must be on fire. The door +was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for it was beginning +to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza's purchases, +so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and hastily called +back her guests and the little boys into the other room. The little boys +and the small cousins were sure they had seen Santa Claus himself. + +Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza. +It was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a hint from +Elizabeth Eliza's letters that there was to be a Christmas-tree, and had +filled this box with all that would be needed. + +It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, from +gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining flags and +lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets +of fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at the bottom of the +whole, a large box of candles and a box of Philadelphia bonbons! + +Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from screaming. The +little boys and the small cousins knocked on the folding-doors to ask +what was the matter. + +Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung them on +the tree, and put on the candles. + +When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed:--"Let +us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors to-night, +and have the tree on Christmas Eve!" + +And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day +before, and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + + + + +MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. + +TWAS important to have a tea-party, as they had all been invited by +everybody,--the Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would be +such a good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the lady +from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who would be +sure to make it all go off well. + +But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were too +many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and saucers in the +best set. + +"There are seven of us, to begin with," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"We need not all drink tea," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"I never do," said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + +"And we could have coffee, too," suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + +"That would take as many cups," objected Agamemnon. + +"We could use the every-day set for the coffee," answered Elizabeth +Eliza; "they are the right shape. Besides," she went on, "they would not +all come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; they never go out." + +"There are but six cups in the every-day set," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin +agreed with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. Jeffers +never went out. + +"There are three of the Tremletts," said Elizabeth Eliza; "they never +go out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to have the +headache. Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the three Gibbons boys, and +their sister Juliana; but the other sisters are out West, and there is +but one Osborne." + +It really did seem safe to ask "everybody." They would be sorry, after +it was over, that they had not asked more. + +"We have the cow," said Mrs. Peterkin, "so there will be as much cream +and milk as we shall need." + +"And our own pig," said Agamemnon. "I am glad we had it salted; so we +can have plenty of sandwiches." + +"I will buy a chest of tea," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. "I have been +thinking of a chest for some time." + +Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was as well +to buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin determined on a +chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + +So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy +evening and some would be prevented. + +The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + +And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. Ann +Maria Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought her over, for +the Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the Tremletts had a niece, +and Mary Osborne an aunt, that they took the liberty to bring. + +The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each +set came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that more +were coming. + +Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, and +trying to calculate how many were to come, and wondering why there were +always more and never less, and whether the cups would go round. + +The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had their +headaches the day before, and were having that banged feeling you always +have after a headache; so they all sat at the same side of the room on +the long sofa. + +All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. Old Mr. +Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. + +The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor door. +And Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, unexpectedly +home from the West. + +"Got home this morning!" they said. "And so glad to be in time to +see everybody,--a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a +sleeping-car!" + +"Forty-eight!" repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were +forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and whether +all could sit down. + +Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be neighborly +to stay away. They insisted on getting into the most uncomfortable +seats. + +Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys preferred to +stand. + +But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had thought +they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John and the little +boys could help in the waiting. + +It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived with her +daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, who was a little +deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther behind the parlor +door. Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake hands with the lady from +Philadelphia, saying:--"Four Gibbons girls and Mary Osborne's aunt,--that +makes nineteen; and now"--It made no difference what she said; for there +was such a murmuring of talk that any words suited. And the lady from +Philadelphia wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + +It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, and +asked:-- + +"Can't we go and ask more? Can't we fetch the Larkins?" + +"Oh, dear, no!" answered Elizabeth Eliza. "I can't even count them." + +Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, to +ask if there were going to be cups enough. + +"I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count," said Elizabeth +Eliza, putting her hand to her head. + +The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + +"The Maberlys!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. "I never asked them." + +"It is your father's doing," cried Mrs. Peterkin. "I do believe he asked +everybody he saw!" And she hurried back to her guests. + +"What if father really has asked everybody?" Elizabeth Eliza said to +herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + +There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, or +both, the cups could not go round. + +Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + +He had not been able to count the guests, they moved about so, they +talked so; and it would not look well to appear to count. + +"What shall we do?" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +"We are not a family for an emergency," said Agamemnon. + +"What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, when +there were more people than cups and saucers?" asked Elizabeth Eliza. +"Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady from Philadelphia is +talking about the Exhibition, and telling how she stayed at home to +receive friends. And they must have had trouble there! Could not you go +in and ask, just as if you wanted to know?" + +Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many talking with the +lady from Philadelphia. + +"If we could only look into some book," he said,--"the encyclopaedia or +the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!" + +At this moment he thought of his "Great Triumphs of Great Men," that he +was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the Stephensons, +or any of the men of modern times. He might skip over to them,--he knew +they were men for emergencies. + +He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with chairs. + +"That is a good thought," said Agamemnon. "I will bring down more +upstairs chairs." + +"No," said Solomon John; "here are all that can come down; the rest of +the bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will do!" + +Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only he +could invent something on the spur of the moment,--a set of bedroom +furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into parlor chairs! It +seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his table and pencils, +when he was interrupted by the little boys, who came to tell him that +Elizabeth Eliza wanted him. + +The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the +tea-table, with all the things on, should be pushed into the front room, +where the company were; and those could take cups who could find cups. + +But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a +table; it might upset, and break what china they had. + +Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back room. She +called to him:--"Agamemnon, you must bring Mary Osborne to help, and +perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry round some of the cups." + +And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, and the +tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + +The little boys took the sugar and cream. + +"As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and saucers to +be washed," she said to the Gibbons boys and the little boys. + +This was an idea of Mary Osborne's. + +But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the more +cups they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, and Mary +Osborne the tea. + +Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + +"I can't understand it," Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. "Do they come +back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are more cups than +there were!" + +Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be coffee-cups that +matched the set! And they never had had coffee-cups. + +Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + +"Solomon John!" Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; "I cannot understand the +cups!" + +"It is my doing," said Solomon John, with an elevated air. "I went to +the lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. 'What do you do in +Philadelphia, when you haven't enough cups?' 'Borrow of my neighbors,' +she answered, as quick as she could." + +"She must have guessed," interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + +"That may be," said Solomon John. "But I whispered to Ann Maria +Bromwick,--she was standing by,--and she took me straight over into +their closet, and old Mr. Bromwick bought this set just where we bought +ours. And they had a coffee-set, too"--"You mean where our father and +mother bought them. We were not born," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"It is all the same," said Solomon John. "They match exactly." + +So they did, and more and more came in. + +Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + +"And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!" + +"Ann Maria was very good about it," said Solomon John; "and quick, too. +And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two dozen coffee and tea +cups!" + +Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told the +Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She +almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. + +"No trouble now!" + +She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. + +No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all +seemed to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, +talking to Mr. + +Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were handing +things around. + +The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls on +the edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a soft, warm +evening, and some of the young people were on the piazza. Everybody was +talking and laughing, except those who were listening. + +Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for more +coffee. + +"It's a great success, Elizabeth Eliza," he whispered. "The coffee is +admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should not mind +having a tea-party every week." + +Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going +off well. + +There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over another +such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + + + + +THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + +Dramatis Personae.--Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda's mother, +girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. AMANDA +[coming in with a few graduates ]. + +MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole class home +to the collation. + +MOTHER.--The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + +AMANDA.--The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and Sophie +with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + +MOTHER.--Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + +AMANDA.--Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time for the +collation. + +MOTHER [to herself ].--If the ice-cream will go round. + +AMANDA.--But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? This is +Elizabeth Eliza, girls--you have heard me speak of her. What a pity you +were too late! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We tried to come; we did our best. + +MOTHER.--Did you miss the train? Didn't you get my postal-card? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We had nothing to do with the train. + +AMANDA.--You don't mean you walked? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--O no, indeed! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--We came in a horse and carryall. + +JULIA.--I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + +AMANDA.--You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall part. But +didn't you start in time? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--It all comes from the carryall being so hard to turn. I +told Mr. + +Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that +don't turn easy. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--They turn easy enough in the stable, so you can't +tell. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes; we started with the little boys and Solomon John on +the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. She was to drive, and I +was to see to the driving. But the horse was not faced toward Boston. + +MOTHER.--And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an accident! + +AMANDA.--And the little boys--where are they? Are they killed? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--The little boys are all safe. We left them at the +Pringles', with Solomon John. + +MOTHER.--But what did happen? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--We started the wrong way. + +MOTHER.--You lost your way, after all? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--No; we knew the way well enough. + +AMANDA.--It's as plain as a pikestaff! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--No; we had the horse faced in the wrong +direction,--toward Providence. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--And mother was afraid to have me turn, and we kept on +and on till we should reach a wide place. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I thought we should come to a road that would veer off +to the right or left, and bring us back to the right direction. + +MOTHER.--Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Why, no; if it had broken down we should not have been +in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay in the +carriage, whatever happens. + +JULIA.--But nothing seemed to happen. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--O yes; we met one man after another, and we asked the +way to Boston. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--And all they would say was, "Turn right round--you are +on the road to Providence." + +MRS. PETERKIN.--As if we could turn right round! That was just what we +couldn't. + +MOTHER.--You don't mean you kept on all the way to Providence? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met a man with +a black hand-bag--black leather I should say. + +JULIA.--He must have been a book-agent. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He set it on a +stone. + +MOTHER.--I dare say it was the same one that came here the other day. +He wanted me to buy the "History of the Aborigines, Brought up from +Earliest Times to the Present Date," in four volumes. I told him I +hadn't time to read so much. He said that was no matter, few did, and it +wasn't much worth it--they bought books for the look of the thing. + +AMANDA.--Now, that was illiterate; he never could have graduated. I +hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that man. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--Very likely it was not the same one. + +MOTHER.--Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of the +buttons worn? + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I noticed one of the buttons was off. + +AMANDA.--We're off the subject. Did you buy his book? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--He never offered us his book. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--He told us the same story,--we were going to Providence; +if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I told him I couldn't; but he took the horse's head, +and the first thing I knew--AMANDA.--He had yanked you round! + +MRS. PETERKIN.--I screamed; I couldn't help it! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I was glad when it was over! + +MOTHER.--Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was headed +right; but we lost time. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and seeing +you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma myself. I came +near it. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I think there +was partiality about the promotions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I never was good about remembering things. I studied +well enough, but, when I came to say off my lesson, I couldn't think +what it was. Yet I could have answered some of the other girls' +questions. + +JULIA.--It's odd how the other girls always have the easiest questions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I never could remember poetry There was only one thing +I could repeat. + +AMANDA.--Oh, do let us have it now; and then we'll recite to you some of +our exhibition pieces. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I'll try. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help entertain +Amanda's friends. + +[All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and +thoughtful. ] ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I'm trying to think what it is about. +You all know it. You remember, Amanda,--the name is rather long. + +AMANDA.--It can't be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?--that is one of the longest +names I know. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O dear, no! + +JULIA.--Perhaps it's Cleopatra. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It does begin with a "C"--only he was a boy. + +AMANDA.--That's a pity, for it might be "We are seven," only that is a +girl. Some of them were boys. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It begins about a boy--if I could only think where he +was. I can't remember. + +AMANDA.--Perhaps he "stood upon the burning deck?" + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--That's just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + +AMANDA.--Casablanca! Now begin--go ahead. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--"The boy stood on the burning deck, When--When--" +I can't think who stood there with him. + +JULIA.--If the deck was burning, it must have been on fire. I guess the +rest ran away, or jumped into boats. + +AMANDA.--That's just it:--"Whence all but him had fled." + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--I think I can say it now. + + "The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled---" + +[She hesitates. ] Then I think he went-- + +JULIA.--Of course, he fled after the rest. + +AMANDA.--Dear, no! That's the point. He didn't. + + "The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father's word." + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--O yes. Now I can say it. + + "The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled; + The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father's word." + +But it used to rhyme. I don't know what has happened to it. + +MRS. PETERKIN.--Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the rhymes. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA.--It must be "without his father's head," or, perhaps, +"without his father said" he should. + +JULIA.--I think you must have omitted something. + +AMANDA.--She has left out ever so much! + +MOTHER.--Perhaps it's as well to omit some, for the ice-cream has come, +and you must all come down. + +AMANDA.--And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite in a +song! + +[Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + + + + +THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + +THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys the +evening before. + +They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing of +horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely five +minutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward till +the family were downstairs. + +It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though +crowded, period of noise. + +The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o'clock, a +terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + +Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: "I am +thankful the lady from Philadelphia is not here!" For she had been +invited to stay a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth of +July, as she was not well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + +And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though every +cow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns! + +"How many little boys are there? How many have we?" exclaimed Mr. +Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking he +would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, to +put himself to sleep. Alas! + +the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + +And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Eliza +was to take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the five +minutes, and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Why +did not Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + +And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen! + +"We will not try this plan again," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"If we live to another Fourth," added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the +door to inquire into the state of affairs. + +Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour too +early. And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or four +of their friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had given +them permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understood +the day as beginning when they went to bed the night before. This +accounted for the number of horns. + +It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the five +minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained only +the noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possible +pillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bells +and cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,--the sunrise, or +"the rising of the sons," as Mr. + +Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their +friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + +They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the +suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang some +flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew of +a place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for +"flag-root," and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They did +bring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. The +boys were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of the +piazza when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along. +As the procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and the +crowd of boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house +with some especial strains of greeting. + +Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a few +moments of quiet, during the boys' absence from the house on their +visit to the swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she had +a sick-headache, or whether it was all the noise, and she was just +deciding it was the sick headache, but was falling into a light slumber, +when the fresh noise outside began. + +There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of +donkeys, and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers of +the boys. Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles had +Chinese crackers also. + +And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + +Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had never +allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraid +of torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some the +children would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it. + +She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even about +pea-nuts. + +Everybody exclaimed over this: "Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!" +But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at the +Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets in +Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast the +pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, in +the midst of a crowd of people, too! + +Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should be +sorry to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution, +something really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed to +a quiet pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on the +sidewalks as he went along the streets. + +Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + +In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real +celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consented +to give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family as +a Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terrible +noise,--only she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house. + +The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days +beforehand, that their mother might be used to the sound, and had +selected their horns some weeks before. + +Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs. +Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from the +dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,--saltpetre, +charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in the +wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel; +and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary's. He explained to his +mother that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and she +was quieted. + +Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere for +making a "fulminating paste" of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. He +had written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But the +iron filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or two +before, and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on the +piazza. + +Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening. + +According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, the +reading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in the +morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + +The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + +"That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant," explained Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"She said the flags of our country," said the little boys. "We +thought she meant 'in the country.'" + +Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of the +Declaration of Independence. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add as +much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as they +began:--"When, in the course of--when, in the course of--when, in the +course of human--when in the course of human events--when, in the course +of human events, it becomes--when, in the course of human events, +it becomes necessary--when, in the course of human events it becomes +necessary for one people"--They could not get any farther. Some of the +party decided that "one people" was a good place to stop, and the little +boys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the people. But Mr. +Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party to stay until +sunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes were to be +saved to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + +And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + +Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have +some cold beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and +everybody ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a +dinner. But when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it +to soak, on account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks! + +Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought +tamarinds and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when +the Antiques and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts +and lemonade. + +They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, they +frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppies +were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in the +garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing of +insects, in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Some +neighboring boys were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs. +Peterkin started, and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone. +Mr. Peterkin had set out to find a copy of the "Declaration." Agamemnon +had disappeared. She had not a moment to decide about her headache. + +She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and if +rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure where +they came down. + +And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed toward +them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for a +practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of the +guests. + +There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they would +better go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkin +hastened into the house to save herself, or see what she could save. +Elizabeth Eliza followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers +and tongs she could find, because they could be thrown out of the window +without breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses +out of the window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on +fire, and had carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. +There was nothing like being prepared. She had always determined to do +the reverse. So with calmness she told Solomon John to take down the +looking-glasses. But she met with a difficulty,--there were no pokers and +tongs, as they did not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin +had been afraid of them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and +kettles up to the upper windows, ready to be thrown out. + +But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the +attic in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the +most unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags +of old pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, +she said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks on +Fourth of July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all the +company declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long +before Mrs. Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company +was only out for show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought +it already too much celebrated. + +Elizabeth Eliza's kettles and pans had come down through the windows +with a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boys +thought. + +Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy of +the Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and he +had to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannon +began, he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bells +and sounding of the cannon. + +Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjoram +pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off with +great explosions. + +At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon, +with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside. + +"I have suddenly remembered where I read about the 'fulminating paste' +we made. It was in the preface to 'Woodstock,' and I have been round to +borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraid +about the 'paste' going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where is +the fulminating paste?" + +Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel. +It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told him +of the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it the +louder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon John +felt it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for a +medicine. + +He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon's book: "This paste, +when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take +fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell." + +"Where is the paste?" repeated Solomon John, in terror. + +"We made it just twenty-six hours ago," said Agamemnon. + +"We put it on the piazza," exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling the +facts, "and it is in front of our mother's feet!" + +He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, +flinging aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon the +piazza at the same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded at +once with the shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same moment +the paste "fulminated" into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs. +Peterkin! + +It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. The +bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had just +reached the closing words: "Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred +honor." + +"We are all blown up, as I feared we should be," Mrs. Peterkin at +length ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of +the piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered +limbs about her. + +It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the +piazza, with closed eyes. + +At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, "Is anybody killed?" + +There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody +was killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great +while before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move. + +But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of +Solomon John's fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had +his face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza's +muslin dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one had +lost any limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flying +in the air. Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmly +shut. + +No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of Solomon +John's nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the +"fulminating paste." + +Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how she +got there. + +Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused the +neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on every +side, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boys +hastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. Solomon +John's other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough. + +Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have a +headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to see +if it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures of +the day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boys +had been allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there was +likely to be but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared she +should never more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetred +beef, and she should never venture to take another spoonful of potash. + + + + +THE PETERKINS' PICNIC. + +THERE was some doubt about the weather. Solomon John looked at the +"Probabilities;" there were to be "areas" of rain in the New England +States. + +Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of rain were +to be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed walking round +the house in a procession, to examine the sky. As they returned they +met Ann Maria Bromwick, who was to go, much surprised not to find them +ready. + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the lady +from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to follow in a +wagon, and to stop for the daughters of the lady from Philadelphia. The +wagon arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall. + +A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where anybody +could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as soon as it was +thought of. + +Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; somebody was always +complaining of being too hot or too cold at a picnic, and it would be a +great convenience to see if she really were so. He thought now he might +take a barometer, as "Probabilities" was so uncertain. Then, if it went +down in a threatening way, they could all come back. + +The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never tried +them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. Solomon John +had put in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a book of poetry. Mr. +Peterkin did not like sitting on the ground, and proposed taking two +chairs, one for himself and one for anybody else. The little boys were +perfectly happy; they jumped in and out of the wagon a dozen times, with +new india-rubber boots, bought for the occasion. + +Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already had +enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying to remember +things. So many mistakes were made. The things that were to go in the +wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in the carryall had to be +taken out for the wagon! + +Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her veil, +and Mr. + +Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + +Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she +must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could not she +think of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any day to think +what to have for dinner, but how much easier now it would be to stay at +home quietly and order the dinner,--and there was the butcher's cart! But +now they must think of everything. + +At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to +drive. + +Twice they started, and twice they found something was left behind,--the +loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a basket of sandwiches +on the front porch. And just as the wagon was leaving, the little boys +shrieked, "The basket of things was left behind!" + +Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the house, to +see if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; he shut +the front door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into the wagon +himself. It started off and went down the street without him! + +He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why had they +not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel of the +wagon, so that he might have sent a message in such a case!), when the +Bromwicks drove out of their yard in their buggy, and took him in. + +They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they were +all to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin called to +Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been holding the barometer +and the thermometer, and they waggled so that it troubled her. It was +hard keeping the thermometer out of the sun, which would make it so +warm. It really took away her pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon +decided to get into the carryall, on the seat with his father, and take +the barometer and thermometer. + +The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or Lonetown +Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, but maybe the drive +to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + +Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the picnic was +got up for her. + +But where was she? + +"I declare," said Mr. Peterkin, "I forgot to stop for her!" The whole +picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + +It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner as +they passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, and Mrs. +Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers that she had not +noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten something! She +did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short turn, and it was getting +late, and what would the lady from Philadelphia think of it, and had +they not better give it all up? + +But everybody said "No!" and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a wide turn +round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took up the lady from +Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind and took up their daughters, +for there was a driver in the wagon besides Solomon John. + +Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might as well +stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question was put again, +Where should they go? + +The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nook--it sounded +inviting. + +There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, but +there was a good place to tie the horses. + +Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know what +the lady from Philadelphia would think of their having forgotten her, +and the more she tried to explain it, the worse it seemed to make it. +She supposed they never did such things in Philadelphia; she knew they +had invited all the world to a party, but she was sure she would never +want to invite anybody again. There was no fun about it till it was all +over. Such a mistake--to have a party for a person, and then go without +her; but she knew they would forget something! She wished they had not +called it their picnic. + +There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. "Was anything broke?" +exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. "Was something forgotten?" asked the lady from +Philadelphia. + +No! But Mr. Peterkin didn't know the way; and here he was leading all +the party, and a long row of carriages following. + +They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, +unless it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They were made +to drive up, and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different +direction, but they could bring the party round to it through the +meadows. + +The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a +pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry +Nook, and had better keep on, So they kept on. It proved to be an +excellent place, where they could tie the horses to a fence. Mrs. +Peterkin did not like their all heading different ways; it seemed as if +any of them might come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the +little boys had their kites flapping round. The Tremletts insisted upon +the whole party going up the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons +boys, and the little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all +the party had to carry everything up to the rocks. The large basket of +"things" was very heavy. + +It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to +take it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and old +Mr. Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + +And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. The +other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the +carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And the table-cloth was +spread,--for they did bring a table-cloth,--and the baskets were opened, +and the picnic really began. + +The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been +forgotten, and the Tremletts' basket had been left on their front +door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, and +everything they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were perfectly +happy, and ate of all the kinds of cake. Two of the Tremletts would +stand while they were eating, because they were afraid of the ants and +the spiders that seemed to be crawling round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to +keep poking with a fern leaf to drive the insects out of the plates. +The lady from Philadelphia was made comfortable with the cushions and +shawls, leaning against a rock. Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she +had been forgotten. + +John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: "Why is a +pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? Because one is +a grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!" + +Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her +friends in Boston had told her. It was, "Why is--" It began, "Why is +something like--no, Why are they different?" It was something about an +old woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very +funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was +alike or different. + +The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth +Eliza's conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one +of the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just +discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to +rain down directly. + +Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + +There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it +appeared that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had +gone back for it twice. + +Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put +the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the +hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + +There was a great cry for the "emergency basket," that had not been +opened yet. + +Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into +it what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. Everybody +stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered with newspapers. +First came out a backgammon-board. "That would be useful," said Ann +Maria, "if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody's barn." Next, a +pair of andirons. "What were they for?" "In case of needing a fire +in the woods," explained Solomon John. Then came a volume of the +Encyclopaedia. But it was the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and +contained only A and a part of B, and nothing about rain or showers. +Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in by the little boys, and Elizabeth +Eliza's book of poetry, and a change of boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small +foot-rug in case the ground should be damp; some paint-boxes of the +little boys'; a box of fish-hooks for Solomon John; an ink-bottle, +carefully done up in a great deal of newspaper, which was fortunate, as +the ink was oozing out; some old magazines, and a blacking-bottle; +and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was all very entertaining, and there +seemed to be something for every occasion but the present. Old +Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy. It was all so +interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the carriages. + +The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on +setting up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and +they might as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon John and Ann +Maria had arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their +watches, so that they might see if it was right. And then came a great +exclamation at the hour: "It was time they were all going home!" + +The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she +felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they +had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes +to consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time +to fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away. But +it had been a delightful picnic, after all. + + + + +THE PETERKINS' CHARADES. + +EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have "something" +at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to +get up a "great Exposition," to show to the people of the place. But Mr. +Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for +"exhibits," and it was given up. + +There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common, +and the ladies of the place thought it ought to be something +handsome,--something more than a common trough,--and they ought to work +for it. + +Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, and +she felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, but +she would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written to +the lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, if +they had asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble. + +Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what they +wanted? + +It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask +about. And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but +you could not always put them together. There was this idea of the +water-trough, and then this idea of getting some money for it. So +she began with writing to the lady from Philadelphia. The little boys +believed she spent enough for it in postage-stamps before it all came +out. + +But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have +some charades at their own house for the benefit of the needed +water-trough,--tickets sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwick +was to help act, because she could bring some old bonnets and gowns that +had been worn by an aged aunt years ago, and which they had always kept. +Elizabeth Eliza said that Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they +must borrow all the red things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She +knew people would be willing to lend things. + +Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, they +were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it too +odd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything to +frighten her mother. + +She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her +letters,--the one that had "Turk" in it,--but they ought to have two words +"Oh, yes," Ann Maria said, "you must have two words; if the people paid +for their tickets they would want to get their money's worth." + +Solomon John thought you might have "Hindoos"; the little boys could +color their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the first +scene an Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for +"dues," and then have the little boys for Hindoos. + +A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit. +There was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doors +stuck when you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that the +Pan-Elocutionists had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne, +and so it was decided to ask John Osborne to help. + +If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said he +was sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make a +stage if John Osborne would help put it up. + +All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann +Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and they +spent the evening in trying on the various things,--such odd caps and +remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of +bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off +well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs. + +Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys +brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with +costumes. + +Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what +they were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she +had,--it would all come of use. + +The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon +and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped +zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There +was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and +such a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came +in the little boys, shouting, "All the tickets are sold, at ten cents +each!" + +"Seventy tickets sold!" exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"Seven dollars for the water-trough!" said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And we do not know yet what we are going to act!" exclaimed Ann Maria. + +But everybody's attention had to be given to the scene that was going +up in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was +magnificent, and represented a forest. + +"Where are we going to put seventy people?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, +venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter. + +The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted +of boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and +sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made +ready! It was late, and some of the people had already come to secure +good seats, even before the actors had assembled. + +"What are we going to act?" asked Ann Maria. + +"I have been so torn with one thing and another," said Elizabeth Eliza, +"I haven't had time to think!" + +"Haven't you the word yet?" asked John Osborne, for the audience was +flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + +"I have got one word in my pocket," said Elizabeth Eliza, "in the letter +from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. +Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don't yet understand the whole of +the word." + +"You don't know the word, and the people are all here!" said John +Osborne, impatiently. + +"Elizabeth Eliza!" exclaimed Ann Maria, "Solomon John says I'm to be a +Turkish slave, and I'll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils +are? You know I brought them over last night." + +"Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere +scarf!" exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + +"Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!" cried +another of the boys. + +And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other side +of the thin curtain. + +"You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sit +where you can hear." + +"And let Julia Fitch come where she can see," said another voice. + +"And we have not any words for them to hear or see!" exclaimed John +Osborne, behind the curtain. + +"Oh, I wish we'd never determined to have charades! exclaimed Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"Can't we return the money?" + +"They are all here; we must give them something!" said John Osborne, +heroically. + +"And Solomon John is almost dressed," reported Ann Maria, +winding a veil around her head. + +"Why don't we take Solomon John's word 'Hindoos' for the first?" said +Agamemnon. + +John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the "hin," or anything, +and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a +feather duster. + +The bell rang, and the first scene began. + +It was a great success. John Osborne's Irish was perfect. Nobody guessed +the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause. + +Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, and +made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as an +old woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the +audience, speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who +appeared in a more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly +back, saying she had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the +effect intended, and it was loudly cheered. + +Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of +their friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano +till the scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done up +in blankets and turbans. + +"I am thankful that is over," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for now we can act +my word. Only I don't myself know the whole." + +"Never mind, let us act it," said John Osborne, "and the audience can +guess the whole." + +"The first syllable must be the letter P," said Elizabeth Eliza, "and we +must have a school." + +Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on as +scholars. + +All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school +by flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + +"They'll guess that to be 'row,'" said John Osborne in despair; "they'll +never guess 'P'!" + +The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John +Osborne's army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all +the family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him, +veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes. + +This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth +Eliza was sure she did not know what to do,--whether to kneel or sit +down; she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could +not help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however, +kept his solemnity. "I suppose I need not say much," he had said, "for I +shall be the 'Turk who was dreaming of the hour.'" But he did order +the little boys to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice +insisted they must have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and +the scene closed. + +"What are we to do now?" asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion. + +"We must have an 'inn' scene," said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her +letter; "two inns, if we can." + +"We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going +to another," said John Osborne. + +"Now is the time for the bandboxes," said Solomon John, who, since +his Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the +charade. + +Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw +Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns. +The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes. +Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the +applause was immense. At last the curtain fell. + +"Now for the whole," said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage +over a heap of umbrellas. + +"I can't think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the +whole," said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + +"Listen, they are guessing," said John Osborne. "'D-ice-box.' I don't +wonder they get it wrong." + +"But we know it can't be that!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony. +"How can we act the whole if we don't know it ourselves?" + +"Oh, I see it!" said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. "Get your whole +family in for the last scene." + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the +background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon +John, leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance, +and in front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in their +india-rubber boots. + +The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, "The Peterkins!" +"P-Turk-Inns!" + +It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole. + +"What a tableau!" exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; "the Peterkin family guessing +their own charade." + + + + +THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. + +AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was +called a "semi-detached" house, when there was no other "semi" to it. +It had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built the +other half. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the +terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully +satisfied with the one they were in. + +But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new +railroad had to be carried directly through the place, and a station was +to be built on that very spot. + +Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether they +could not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give up +the lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant, +and it would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be no +danger of missing the train, if one were sure of the direction. + +But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and the +steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under the +dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what the +family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move. + +But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that +satisfied the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a +tan-pit; another was too much in the middle of the town, next door to +a machine-shop. Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, that +should face the sunset; while Mr. + +Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towards +the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), for +the sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house with +a great many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr. +Peterkin did not like so much slamming, and felt there was more danger +of burglars with so many doors. + +Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop. +If he could have carpenters' tools and a workbench he could build an +observatory, if it were wanted. + +But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leave +their house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch's, at the +Corners. It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, and +was opposite a barn. There were three other doors,--too many to +please Mr. Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was no +observatory, and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house was +too low and some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had +hoped for a view; but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more +healthy to have to walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they +might get tired of the same every day. + +And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carried +their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent the +evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everything +beforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her mother +dreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkin +shook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort. +Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme. + +Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme would +make it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, which +could be put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlor +furniture could be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms, +in which Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the move +went on. Then the old parlor carpets could be taken up for the new +dining-room and the downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhile +dine at the old house. Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the +distance was considerable, as he felt exercise would be good for them +all. + +Elizabeth Eliza's programme then arranged that the dining-room furniture +should be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlor +carpets would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleep +in the old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable place +in one house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, he +would find some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day there +should be moved only the furniture needed for a certain room. Great +confusion would be avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote +these last words at the head of her programme,--"Misplace nothing." + +And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of the +family. + +THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.--Page 126. The first thing to be done was to +buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at some +in Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with her +father, Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them. + +They got home about eleven o'clock, and when they reached the house +were dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, already +partly filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, a +large book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meet +them in an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture carts +had appeared soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the men +had insisted upon beginning to move the things. In vain had she shown +Elizabeth Eliza's programme; in vain had she insisted they must take +only the parlor furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy +pieces in the bottom of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So +she had seen them go into every room in the house, and select one piece +of furniture after another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza's +programme; she doubted if they could have read it if they had looked at +it. + +Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea they +would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fill +the carts. + +But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,--a heavy piece of +furniture,--and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables. +Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every book +on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books in +the bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from the +shelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters as +natural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought all +to be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon's +Encyclopaedia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting it +with the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four men +were bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father's room, and +they called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene of +confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore them +to the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay in +hopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in +despair upon the end of a sofa. + +"It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet," said Solomon +John. + +"Is not the carpet bought?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they were +obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had come +back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + +"What shall we do?" asked Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, "I +shall be back in a moment." + +Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumes +of his Encyclopaedia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a man +lifting a wardrobe. + +Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. "I did not like to go and ask her. But +I felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the whole +matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan's." + +"Makillan's" was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only one +all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed they +might prefer one from Boston. + +The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to +Makillan's to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But where +should they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr. +Peterkin's "quiet hour"? + +Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were +covered with things. + +It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks, +who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should get +something to eat at the baker's. + +Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to receive the +carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. After +all there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house, +and in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza stepped +down the front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to the +door. But it was locked, and she had no keys! + +"Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?" she exclaimed. + +No, he had not seen them since the morning,--when--ah!--yes, the little +boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber boots, +as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some door +unfastened--perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, each +door, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat! + +"I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with +them," said Agamemnon; "or else go home to see if they left them there." +The school was in a different direction from the house, and far at the +other end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys' +school, as he proposed to do after their move. + +"That will be the only way," said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been +arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and not +come home at noon. + +She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the +carts soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with the +furniture? Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she should +need them to set the furniture up in the right places. But they could +not stop for this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, in +the garden, and Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There was +something from every room in the house! Even the large family chest, +which had proved too heavy for them to travel with had come down from +the attic, and stood against the front door. + +And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with a +wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Some +opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and Elizabeth +Eliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furniture +appeared to be standing full in view. + +It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had been +to the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one of +the little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes. +Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrow +had waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept and +cleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there +would not be time enough to do anything. + +And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the +furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a little +place in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and go +home to sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringing +the bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs. + +In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had been +there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agony +about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how could +it be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainly +could not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left till +the house was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of one +side. But Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was to +be moved without being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips +narrow enough to go out. One of the men loading the remaining cart +disposed of the question by coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and +carrying it on on top of his wagon. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But what +should they do?--no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room table +and sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, and +spoons here. In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed; +everything was misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eat +here and sleep here, and what had become of the little boys? + +Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packing +the dining-room china. + +They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one +suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they should +want to take them next. + +Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + +"Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!" she +exclaimed. + +Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkin +would be there for his "quiet hour." And when the carters at last +appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed and +said, "There is nothing left," and meekly consented to be led away. + +They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in a +rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the opposite +barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken back +with him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side of +the house. + +Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, the +floors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to stand +in a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,--there was +nothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had not +come, and although the tables were there they were covered with chairs +and boxes. + +At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. It +contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same moment +appeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed all +this on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon +John came rushing in from the gate. + +"The last load is coming! We are all moved!" he exclaimed; and the +little boys joined in a chorus, "We are moved! we are moved!" + +Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on the +parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza's hat-box. The +parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed on +the parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and the +looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they were +moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved. + + + + +THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + +CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The Peterkins had +moved into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where +they would have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of +course they would then have more time. + +Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a long +time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when +she wanted to play on her piano. + +Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. +The upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of +the door to the closet under the stairs. But the under table-cloth was +kept in a drawer in the closet. So, whenever the cloths were changed, +the trunk had to be pushed away under some projecting shelves to make +room for opening the closet-door (as the under table-cloth must be taken +out first), then the trunk was pushed back to make room for it to be +opened for the upper table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to +push the trunk away again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. +This always consumed a great deal of time. + +Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find a +place in it. + +Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house there was +no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept upstairs, which +was very inconvenient, and the volumes of the Encyclopaedia could not be +together. There was not room for all in one place. So from A to P were +to be found downstairs, and from Q to Z were scattered in different +rooms upstairs. And the worst of it was, you could never remember +whether from A to P included P. "I always went upstairs after P," said +Agamemnon, "and then always found it downstairs, or else it was the +other way." + +Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the books all +in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking for them. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. If +they went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. Elizabeth +Eliza could talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, German with the +Germans; Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish +in Spain; and perhaps he could himself master all the Eastern Languages +and Russian. + +Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all the +family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth Eliza +dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more willing. + +Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always said +she would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, and she was +sure it did not look like it now. + +Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something new every day, +and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a telephone, for they +had bridges in the very earliest days. + +Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could be found +in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three could be brought +out in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for them, and could learn a +little on the way out and in. + +Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. He was +told that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed they should +all begin with Sanscrit. They would thus require but one teacher, and +could branch out into the other languages afterward. + +But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth +Eliza already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk +it, without much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of the +side-stands. But she found she had been talking with a Moorish gentleman +who did not understand French. Mr. + +Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers came +at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they would be using +different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought something might be +learned by having them all at once. Each one might pick up something +beside the language he was studying, and it was a great thing to learn +to talk a foreign language while others were talking about you. Mrs. +Peterkin was afraid it would be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it +was all right. + +Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they ought to +have foreign teachers, who spoke only their native languages. But, in +this case, how could they engage them to come, or explain to them about +the carryall, or arrange the proposed hours? He did not understand how +anybody ever began with a foreigner, because he could not even tell him +what he wanted. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and +pantomime. + +Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be done. +Elizabeth Eliza explained how "langues" meant both "languages" and +"tongues," and they could point to their tongues. For practice, the +little boys represented the foreign teachers talking in their different +languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon John went to invite them to come +out, and teach the family by a series of signs. + +Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they might +almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and trust to +explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not yet made, +it might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they were +invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to his mouth +as he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and it looked a +great deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than asking them +to teach. Agamemnon suggested that they might carry the separate +dictionaries when they went to see the teachers, and that would show +that they meant lessons, and not lunch. + +Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for them, +if they had come all that way; but she certainly did not know what they +were accustomed to eat. + +Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the +foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and they +might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys were +delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. Agamemnon had heard +that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the Germans, and he would +inquire how it was made in the first lesson. Solomon John had heard they +were all very fond of garlic, and thought it would be a pretty attention +to have some in the house the first day, that they might be cheered by +the odor. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by her +knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons before the +Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + +There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to obtain +teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He did not want +to be tempted to talk any English with them. He wanted the latest +and freshest languages, and at last came home one day with a list of +"brand-new foreigners." + +They decided to borrow the Bromwicks' carryall to use, beside their own, +for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon drove into town to +bring all the teachers out. One was a Russian gentleman, travelling, who +came with no idea of giving lessons, but perhaps he would consent to do +so. He could not yet speak English. + +Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several gentlemen +who had recommended the different teachers, and he went with Agamemnon +from hotel to hotel collecting them. He found them all very polite, +and ready to come, after the explanation by signs agreed upon. The +dictionaries had been forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which +looked the same, and seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + +Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian instead +of one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new teacher of that +language lately arrived. + +But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian gentleman +into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for he was a Turk, +sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! They glared at each +other, and began to assail each other in every language they knew, none +of which Mr. Peterkin could understand. It might be Russian, it might be +Arabic. It was easy to understand that they would never consent to sit +in the same carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten +about the Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + +Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But the +French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to go with +him in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For the German +professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As soon as the French +gentleman put his foot on the step and saw him, he addressed him in +such forcible language that the German professor got out of the door the +other side, and came round on the sidewalk, and took him by the collar. +Certainly the German and French gentlemen could not be put together, and +more crowd collected! + +Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word "Herr," and +he applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the +other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither +of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr. +Peterkin with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian +teachers behind, vociferating to each other in languages unknown to +Mr. Peterkin, while he feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so +he drove home as fast as possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The +Spaniard by his side was a little moody, while the Turk and the German +behind did not utter a word. + +At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin +and Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her +shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful +to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the +library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and +Russian apart. + +Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his +Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The +little boys took their copy of the "Arabian Nights" to the Turk. Mr. +Peterkin attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian +dictionary, as he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs. +Peterkin was trying to inform her teacher that she had no books in +Spanish. She got over all fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad, +and she tried to talk a little, using English words, but very slowly, +and altering the accent as far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed, +looked gravely interested, and was very polite. + +Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the +Parisian. + +She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But +he understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her +vocabularies, and went on with--"J'ai le livre." "As-tu le pain?" +"L'enfant a une poire." He listened with great attention, and replied +slowly. Suddenly she started after making out one of his sentences, and +went to her mother to whisper, "They have made the mistake you feared. +They think they are invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for +our politeness in inviting them to dejeuner,--that means breakfast!" + +"They have not had their breakfast!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at +her Spaniard; "he does look hungry! What shall we do?" + +Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How +should they make them understand that they invited them to teach, not +lunch. Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out "apprendre" in the +dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they found it means both to +teach and to learn! What should they do? The foreigners were now sitting +silent in their different corners. The Spaniard grew more and more +sallow. What if he should faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of +his mustaches to a point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian +should fight the Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the +airs of the Parisian? + +"We must give them something to eat," said Mr. Peterkin, in a low tone. +"It would calm them." + +"If I only knew what they were used to eating," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others were used +to eating, and they might bring in anything. + +Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could make +good coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American dish. Solomon John +sent a little boy for some olives. + +It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked beans. +Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled eggs, and some +bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every man spoke his own +tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + +Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to her. They +all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was fluent about +"les moeurs Americaines." Elizabeth Eliza supposed he alluded to their +not having set any table. The Turk smiled, the Russian was voluble. In +the midst of the clang of the different languages, just as Mr. Peterkin +was again repeating, under cover of the noise of many tongues, "How +shall we make them understand that we want them to teach?"--at this +very moment the door was flung open, and there came in the lady from +Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + +She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different languages! +The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together they called +upon her to explain for them. Could she help them? Could she tell the +foreigners they wanted to take lessons? Lessons? They had no sooner +uttered the word than their guests all started up with faces beaming +with joy. It was the one English word they all knew! They had come to +Boston to give lessons! The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English +in this way. The thought pleased them more than the dejeuner. + +Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. The +first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to teach. + + + + +MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. + +AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a profession. +It was important on account of the little boys. If he should make a +trial of several different professions he could find out which would be +the most likely to be successful, and it would then be easy to bring up +the little boys in the right direction. + +Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family occasionally +made mistakes, and had come near disgracing themselves. Now was their +chance to avoid this in future by giving the little boys a proper +education. + +Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From earliest +childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips of paper. +Mrs. Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She could not bear +the idea of his bringing one disease after the other into the family +circle. Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. He thought he might +manage it if he should not have to see his patients while they were +sick. If he could only visit them when they were recovering, and when +the danger of infection was over, he would really enjoy making calls. + +He should have a comfortable doctor's chaise, and take one of the little +boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he could get +through the conversational part very well, and feeling the pulse, +perhaps looking at the tongue. He should take and read all the +newspapers, and so be thoroughly acquainted with the news of the day to +talk of. But he should not like to be waked up at night to visit. Mr. +Peterkin thought that would not be necessary. He had seen signs on doors +of "Night Doctor," and certainly it would be as convenient to have a +sign of "Not a Night Doctor." + +Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his patients +who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger of infection. And +then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his prescriptions would probably be so +satisfactory that they would keep his patients well,--not too well to do +without a doctor, but needing his recipes. + +Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, by a +desire he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only invent +something important, and get out a patent, he would make himself known +all over the country. If he could get out a patent he would be set up +for life, or at least as long as the patent lasted, and it would be well +to be sure to arrange it to last through his natural life. + +Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been +suggested by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their new +house. He had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked it up in +the Encyclopaedia, and had spent a day or two in the Public Library, in +reading about Chubb's Lock and other patent locks. + +But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be made +alike! + +He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, Solomon +John said, with all inventions, with Christopher Columbus, and +everybody. Nobody knew the invention till it was invented, and then it +looked very simple. With Agamemnon's plan you need have but one key, +that should fit everything! It should be a medium-sized key, not too +large to carry. It ought to answer for a house door, but you might open +a portmanteau with it. How much less danger there would be of losing +one's keys if there were only one to lose! + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were out, +and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But Agamemnon +explained that he did not mean there should be but one key in the +family, or in a town,--you might have as many as you pleased, only they +should all be alike. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,--they could keep +the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the key of her +upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And Mrs. Peterkin felt +it might be a convenience if they had one on each story, so that they +need not go up and down for it. + +Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide about +the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one morning, they went +into town to visit a patent-agent. + +Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady from +Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + +"I have had a delightful call," she said; "but--perhaps I was wrong--I +could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon's proposed +patent. I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things are kept +profound secrets; they say women always do tell things; I suppose that +is the reason." + +"But where is the harm?" asked Mrs. Peterkin. "I'm sure you can trust +the lady from Philadelphia." + +Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had +questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had suggested +that "if everybody had the same key there would be no particular use in +a lock." + +"Did you explain to her," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that we were not all +to have the same keys?" + +"I couldn't quite understand her," said Elizabeth Eliza, "but she seemed +to think that burglars and other people might come in if the keys were +the same." + +"Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!" said Mrs. Peterkin, +indignantly. + +"But about other people," said Elizabeth Eliza; "there is my upper +drawer; the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,--and their +presents in it!" + +"And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda," said Mrs. Peterkin, +considering. + +Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know what +the lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza then proposed +going into town, but it would take so long she might not reach them in +time. A telegram would be better, and she ventured to suggest using the +Telegraph Alarm. + +For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was provided +with all the modern improvements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. +Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since their experience the last +winter, when their water-pipes were frozen up. She had been originally +attracted to the house by an old pump at the side, which had led her +to believe there were no modern improvements. It had pleased the little +boys, too. They liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump +all the water needed, and bring it into the house. + +There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner by the +barn. + +Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the little +boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great fondness for +pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, that the well was +dry. There was no water in it; so she had some moss thrown down, and an +old feather-bed, for safety, and the old well was a favorite place of +amusement. + +The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and "set- +waters" everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a +hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + +Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would be +summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to conceal from +them the use of the knobs, and the card of directions at the side was +destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first inventions to help this. +He had arranged a number of similar knobs to be put in rows in different +parts of the house, to appear as if they were intended for ornament, and +had added some to the original knobs. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a patent +for this invention. + +It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed sending +a telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was pleased with the +idea. + +Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she +herself would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write the +telegram. + +"I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning," she said, looking at +one of the rows of knobs. + +Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had put three +extra knobs at each end. + +"But which is the end, and which is the beginning,--the top or the +bottom?" Mrs. + +Peterkin asked hopelessly. + +Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened with her +to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see the telegraph +boy? + +They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible +noise was heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the +fire-brigade were seen rushing at a fatal speed! + +It was a terrific moment! + +"I have touched the fire-alarm," Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + +Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the +fire-engines were approaching. + +"Do not be alarmed," said the chief engineer; "the furniture shall be +carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary." + +"Move again!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + +Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a telegram +to her father, who was in Boston. + +"It is not important," said the head engineer; "the fire will all be +out before it could reach him." + +And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon the +roof. + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more +necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + +"Write a telegram to your father," she said to Elizabeth Eliza, "to +'come home directly.'" + +"That will take but three words," said Elizabeth Eliza, with presence of +mind, "and we need ten. I was just trying to make them out." + +"What has come now?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried +again to the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the street. + +"I must have touched the carriage-knob," cried Mrs. Peterkin, "and I +pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!" + +Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were assembling. +Even their own little boys had returned from school, and were showing +the firemen the way to the well. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound arose. She +had touched the burglar-alarm! + +The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, had +invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with a knob. A +wire attached to the knob moved a spring that could put in motion a +number of watchmen's rattles, hidden under the eaves of the piazza. + +All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those of +the neighborhood who had not before assembled around the house. At this +moment Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + +"You need not send for more help," he said; "we have all the engines +in town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the neighborhood; +there's no use in springing any more alarms. I can't find the fire yet, +but we have water pouring all over the house." + +Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + +"We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, who are +in town," she endeavored to explain. + +"If it is necessary," said the chief engineer, "you might send it down +in one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing before the +door. We'd better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you +women might fill the carriages with smaller things." + +Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself +with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob. + +Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice +of the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of +the hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched +the right knob. It was the fourth from the beginning; but the beginning +was at the other end! + +She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind him her +father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and hurried toward +them. + +Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where were +the flames? + +He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? Who was +dead? + +Who was to be married? + +He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and read it +aloud. + +"Come to us directly--the house is NOT on fire!" + +The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + +"The house not on fire!" he exclaimed. "What are we all summoned for?" + +"It is a mistake," cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. "We +touched the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy!" + +"We touched all the wrong knobs," exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from the +house. + +The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with a +few exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines were +heard approaching. + +Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one of the +carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was now nearly +ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought to send a telegram +down by the boy, for the evening papers, to announce that the Peterkins' +house had not been on fire. + +The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of flowers, +bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by the feet of the +crowd that had assembled. + +The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his men to +order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. The collection +of boys followed the procession as it went away. The fire-brigade +hastily removed covers from some of the furniture, restored the rest to +their places, and took away their ladders. Many neighbors remained, but +Mr. Peterkin hastened into the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before he +went in, as to the success of their visit to town. + +"We saw all the patent-agents," answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow +whisper. "Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything to do +with it." + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into the +house. She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she recalled +some words of Solomon John. When they were discussing the patent he +had said that many an inventor had grown gray before his discovery was +acknowledged by the public. Others might reap the harvest, but it came, +perhaps, only when he was going to his grave. + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed him +silently into the house. + + + + +AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. + +THERE had apparently been some mistake in Agamemnon's education. He had +been to a number of colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his +course in any one. + +He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. It +was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always tried to +find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit upon the right +thing. + +Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the +elective system, where you were to choose what study you might take. +This had always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + +"And how was a feller to tell," Solomon John had asked, "whether he +wanted to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out awful +hard!" + +Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood up. He was +at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he would come out a +great scholar, because she could never get him away from his books. + +And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the library, +reading and reading. But they were always the wrong books. + +For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the +Spartan war. + +This turned Agamemnon's attention to the Fenians, and to study the +subject he read up on "Charles O'Malley," and "Harry Lorrequer," and +some later novels of that sort, which did not help him on the subject +required, yet took up all his time, so that he found himself unfitted +for anything else when the examinations came. In consequence he was +requested to leave. + +Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason that +Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was always asked +the questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; if the professors +had only asked something else! + +But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + +Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the things +they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing to take +for students only those who already knew certain things. She thought +Agamemnon might be a professor in a college for those students who +didn't know those things. + +"I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal," she +added, "or they would not have asked you so many questions; they would +have told you something." + +Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he had made +with some of his classmates. They had taken a great deal of trouble to +bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to make a bonfire with, +under one of the professors' windows. Agamemnon had felt it would be a +compliment to the professor. + +It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return from +successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled upon lofty +heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes after distant +adventures. As he plodded back and forward he imagined himself some hero +of antiquity. He was reading "Plutarch's Lives" with deep interest. This +had been recommended at a former college, and he was now taking it up in +the midst of his French course. + +He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in Lynn, +perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and glorify its +heroes. + +For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in +consequence of going back and forward through the snow, carrying the +wood. + +But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor's +room, and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the whole +institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his predecessor, +who gave him his name, must have regretted that other bonfire, on the +shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a daughter. + +The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, after +having been in the institution but a few months. + +He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding about the +hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly at ten o'clock, +but found, afterward, that he should have gone at half-past six. This +hour seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin unseasonable, at a time of year +when the sun was not up, and he would have been obliged to go to the +expense of candles. + +Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever he could +be admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it might be found. +But, after going to five, and leaving each before the year was out, he +gave it up. + +He determined to lay out the money that would have been expended in a +collegiate education in buying an Encyclopaedia, the most complete that +he could find, and to spend his life studying it systematically. He +would not content himself with merely reading it, but he would study +into each subject as it came up, and perfect himself in that subject. +By the time, then, that he had finished the Encyclopaedia he should have +embraced all knowledge, and have experienced much of it. + +The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of every +subject that came up. + +He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second +column of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. This led +him to the study of music. He bought a flute, and took some lessons, and +attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the piano. This, of course, +distracted him from his work on the Encyclopaedia. But he did not wish to +return to A until he felt perfect in music. This required a long time. + +Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was requested +to "see Keys." It was necessary, then, to turn to "Keys." This was +about the time the family were moving, which we have mentioned, when the +difficult subject of keys came up, that suggested to him his own simple +invention, and the hope of getting a patent for it. This led him astray, +as inventions before have done with master-minds, so that he was drawn +aside from his regular study. + +The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career Agamemnon +had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of life, if he should +master the Encyclopaedia in a thorough way. + +Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a college +course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different Encyclopaedias +that appeared. + +There would be no "spreads" involved; no expense of receiving friends at +entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that it would not +be necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At all the times of +his leaving he had sold out favorably to other occupants. + +Solomon John's destiny was more uncertain. He was looking forward +to being a doctor some time, but he had not decided whether to be +allopathic or homeopathic, or whether he could not better invent his own +pills. And he could not understand how to obtain his doctor's degree. + +For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist's store. But he could +serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it was found +he was not familiar enough with the Latin language to compound the +drugs. He agreed to spend his evenings in studying the Latin grammar; +but his course was interrupted by his being dismissed for treating the +little boys too frequently to soda. + +The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The family had +been much exercised with regard to their education. Elizabeth Eliza +felt that everything should be expected from them; they ought to take +advantage from the family mistakes. Every new method that came up was +tried upon the little boys. + +They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and were +just able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now considered +best that children should not be taught to read till they were ten years +old. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken from +them even then, they might forget what they had learned. But no, the +evil was done; the brain had received certain impressions that could not +be blurred over. + +This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the public +schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling school, and +joined a class in music, and another in dancing; they went to some +afternoon lectures for children, when there was no other school, and +belonged to a walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin was dissatisfied by the +slowness of their progress. He visited the schools himself, and found +that they did not lead their classes. It seemed to him a great deal of +time was spent in things that were not instructive, such as putting on +and taking off their india-rubber boots. + +Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school and +taught by Agamemnon from the Encyclopaedia. The rest of the family might +help in the education at all hours of the day. Solomon John could take +up the Latin grammar, and she could give lessons in French. + +The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not want to +have the study-hours all the time. + +Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should make +their life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at breakfast, and +study everything put upon the table,--the material of which it was made, +and where it came from. + +In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study of music, +and from one meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. + +"We shall have the assistance," said Mr. Peterkin, "of Agamemnon, with +his Encyclopaedia." + +Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in +their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A. + +"That would not be impossible," said Mr. Peterkin. "There is Amanda, who +will wait on table, to start with--" + +"We could have 'am-and-eggs," suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was +distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and +impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do +was to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers +as they could. + +They could still apply to the Encyclopaedia, even if it were not in +Agamemnon's alphabetical course. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the +botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. +The study of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the +butter-dish would bring in geology. + +The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the +cream-jug, and they were promised a potter's wheel directly. + +"You see, my dear," said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, "before many weeks, +we shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children." + +Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "we might begin with botany. That would be +near to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the botany of +butter. On what does the cow feed?" + +The little boys were eager to go out and see. + +"If she eats clover," said Mr. Peterkin, "we shall expect the botany of +clover." + +The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that very +evening they should go out and study the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple breakfast. +The little boys took their note-books and pencils, and clambered upon +the fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + +For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They were +always coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to count them, +and nobody was very sure how many there were. + +There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She looked at +them with large eyes. + +"She won't eat," they cried, "while we are looking at her!" + +So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and seated +themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to time, to see +the cow. + +"Now she is nibbling a clover." + +"No, that is a bit of sorrel." + +"It's a whole handful of grass." + +"What kind of grass?" they exclaimed. + +It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and pretending to +the cow that they were looking into the street, and yet to be looking at +the cow all the time, and finding out what she was eating; and the upper +rail of the fence was narrow and a little sharp. It was very high, +too, for some additional rails had been put on to prevent the cow from +jumping into the garden or street. + +Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw +six legs and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys +disappeared! + +"They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the cow!" + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. Solomon +John and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but stopped, not +knowing what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered herself with a supreme +effort, and sent them out to the rescue. + +But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep the cow +out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the milking had gone +off with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps with the key of the shed +door. Even if that were not locked, before Agamemnon could get round by +the wood-shed and cow-shed, the little boys might be gored through and +through! + +Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the druggist's for +plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through the dining-room to the +wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. Peterkin mounted the outside of the +fence, while Mrs. + +Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high enough +to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported what he saw. + +They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the +little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving. + +The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his +india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + +Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the +grass, still looking at him. + +Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were +next seen running toward it. + +A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with +Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the +time they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the +arms of their mother! + +"This is too dangerous a form of education," she cried; "I had rather +they went to school." + +"No!" they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. + + + + +THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. + +MRS. PETERKIN'S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of +the three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the +educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at +school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon +the subject of education. + +Mrs. Peterkin's spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys +were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were +arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could +be pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These +were planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently +amused himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + +Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. +Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; +that many who could did not answer questions,--the conductors of the +railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations +on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. + +"Yes," said Agamemnon, "one might be a conductor without even knowing +the names of the stations, because you can't understand them when they +do tell them!" + +"I never know," said Elizabeth Eliza, "whether it is ignorance in them, +or unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one +station is coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so +many times. It would be useful if they would tell." + +Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in +Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the +place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have +the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the +conductors "to stop at the farthest crossing." + +Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying +on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no +one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a +breakfast on educational principles. + +A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken +the alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole +alphabet must be represented in one breakfast. + +This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, +Coffee, Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice (on +butter), Jam, Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, Oatmeal, +Pepper, Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Veal-pie, Waffles, +Yeast-biscuit. + +Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. "Excellent!" he cried. "Every +letter represented except Z." Mrs. Peterkin drew from her pocket a +letter from the lady from Philadelphia. "She thought you would call it +X-cellent for X, and she tells us," she read, "that if you come with a +zest, you will bring the Z." + +Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite the +children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a zest, +indeed, it would give to the study of their letters! + +It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + +"How happy," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, "that this should come first of +all! A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had mastered +the first letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the more involved +subjects hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc." + +Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden in +the apple. There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss +independence. The little boys were wild to act William Tell, but Mrs. +Peterkin was afraid of the arrows. Mrs. + +Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, then +discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps first +historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first apple. + +Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the griddles +were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at home on the +marmalade, because the quinces came from grandfather's, and she had seen +them planted; she remembered all about it, and now the bush came up to +the sitting-room window. + +She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where the +granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite recollected +why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it took you almost +the whole day to stew them, and then you might as well set them on +again. + +Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at grandfather's. +In order to know thoroughly about apples, they ought to understand the +making of cider. + +Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather's, scarcely twelve +miles away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should not the family +go this very day up to grandfather's, and continue the education of the +breakfast? + +"Why not indeed?" exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather's +would give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard to the +cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, even to +follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + +It was suggested, too, that at grandfather's they might study the +processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + +Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: they were +both the products of trees--the apple-tree and the maple. Mr. Peterkin +proposed that the lesson for the day should be considered the study of +trees, and on the way they could look at other trees. + +Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the present. +Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely be in a hurry +for dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day before them. + +Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for luncheon. + +But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could hardly +take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as the little +boys did not take up much room. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at +grandfather's. + +Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object to +staying some days. This would make it easier about coming home, but it +did not settle the difficulty in getting there. + +Why not "Ride and Tie"? + +The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and Agamemnon +and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit +in the carriage, when it was waiting for the pedestrians to come up; or, +she said, she did not object to a little turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin +would start, with Solomon John and the little boys, before the rest, +and Agamemnon should drive his mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first +stopping-place. + +Then came up another question,--of Elizabeth Eliza's trunk. If she stayed +a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be hot, and it +might be cold. + +Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her heaviest +wraps. + +You never could depend upon the weather. Even "Probabilities" got you no +farther than to-day. + +In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the +expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left the +table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself with +Amanda over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon +went to order the horse and the expressman, and Solomon John and the +little boys prepared themselves for a pedestrian excursion. + +Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so +many things she might want, and then again she might not. She must +put up her music, because her grandfather had a piano; and then she +bethought herself of Agamemnon's flute, and decided to pick out a volume +or two of the Encyclopaedia. But it was hard to decide, all by herself, +whether to take G for griddle-cakes, or M for maple-syrup, or T for +tree. She would take as many as she could make room for. + +She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must take +some French books she had never yet found time to read. This involved +taking her French dictionary, as she doubted if her grandfather had one. +She ought to put in a "Botany," if they were to study trees; but she +could not tell which, so she would take all there were. She might as +well take all her dresses, and it was no harm if one had too many wraps. +When she had her trunk packed, she found it over-full; it was difficult +to shut it. She had heard Solomon John set out from the front door with +his father and the little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse +at the side door, so there was no use in calling for help. She got upon +the trunk; she jumped upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, +found she could lock it! Yes, it was really locked. + +But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been caught +in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was worse, she was so +fastened to the trunk that she could not lean forward far enough to +turn the key back, to unlock the trunk and release herself! The lock had +slipped easily, but she could not now get hold of the key in the right +way to turn it back. + +She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She +called for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the trunk. But +her door was shut. + +Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the door, +to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, in her +constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she +would have been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her +travelling-dress, and too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. +Alas, she had packed her scissors, and her knife she had lent to the +little boys the day before! She called again. What silence there was in +the house! Her voice seemed to echo through the room. At length, as she +listened, she heard the sound of wheels. + +Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear the +front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to "have the day." +But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to Amanda, to explain to +her to wait for the expressman. She was to have told her as she went +downstairs. But she had not been able to go downstairs! And Amanda must +have supposed that all the family had left, and she, too, must have +gone, knowing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard +the front door shut! + +But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she had +proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be +picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in +time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,--that she +had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon +discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not +finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed. +She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all +her books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She +tried to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family. +They were good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge. +But suppose they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge, +as they often did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them, +her mother would not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother +should decide to leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping +and waiting for the first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no +one would be left to tell the rest, when they should come up to the +carryall. They might go on so, through the whole journey, without +meeting, and she might not be missed till they should reach her +grandfather's! + +Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman +would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get +into the house! + +She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut +up in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not +when she should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the +"Mistletoe Bough." She had been one of the "guests," who had sung "Oh, +the Mistletoe Bough," and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the +side-scenes how the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the +trunk then was only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa, +and this was a stern reality. + +It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather's. +Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy +she was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move +the trunk toward the door. + +In vain. All was still. + +Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why +Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with +Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things +into the carriage,--a basket of lunch, a change of shoes for Mr. +Peterkin, some extra wraps,--everything Mrs. + +Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth Eliza +did not come. "I think she must have walked on with your father," she +said, at last; "you had better get in." Agamemnon now got in. "I should +think she would have mentioned it," she continued; "but we may as well +start on, and pick her up!" + +They started off. "I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to Amanda, +but we must ask her when we come up with her." + +But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond the +village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting manner against +a tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave missives for each other as +they passed on. This note informed them that the walking party was going +to take the short cut across the meadows, and would still be in front +of them. They saw the party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. +Peterkin was explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as +they stood around a large specimen. + +"I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a 'Quercus,'" said +Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an +expression, but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of the +party, however, were behind the tree, some were in front, and Elizabeth +Eliza might be behind the tree. They were too far off to be shouted at. +Mrs. Peterkin was calmed, and went on to the stopping-lace agreed upon, +which they reached before long. This had been appointed near Farmer +Gordon's barn, that there might be somebody at hand whom they knew, in +case there should be any difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had +been that Mrs. Peterkin should always sit in the carriage, while the +others should take turns for walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a +fence, and left her comfortably arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she +had risen so early to prepare for the alphabetical breakfast, and had +since been so tired with preparations, that she was quite sleepy, and +would not object to a nape in the shade, by the soothing sound of the +buzzing of the flies. But she called Agamemnon back, as he started off +for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question: + +"Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated +in the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth +Eliza gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have +expected that she--Mrs. Peterkin--would walk on to the next stopping- +place!" + +She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest +passed her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting cheerfully. +It was a little joggly in the carriage, she had already found, for +the horse was restless from the flies, and she did not like being left +alone. + +She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, but +the sun became hot, and it was not long before she was fatigued. When +they reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to rest upon one of the +hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at the other end of the field, +and they were seated there when the carryall passed them in the road. +Mrs. Peterkin waved parasol and hat, and the party in the carryall +returned their greetings, but they were too far apart to hear each +other. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + +"Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall," she said, "and +that will explain all." + +But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent +stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A note +was pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it was +"prime fun." + +In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. Peterkin +felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the carryall +missed her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a house to rest, and +for a glass of water. + +She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The party +had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided all should +meet at the foot of grandfather's hill, that they might all arrive at +the house together. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all the +way, as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. Peterkin's +last walk had been so slow, that the other party was far in advance and +reached the stopping-place before them. The little boys were all rowed +out on the stone fence, awaiting them, full of delight at having reached +grandfather's. Mr. + +Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. +Peterkin, exclaimed: "Where is Elizabeth Eliza?" Each party looked +eagerly at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be seen. Where was she? +What was to be done? Was she left behind? Mrs. Peterkin was convinced +she must have somehow got to grandfather's. They hurried up the hill. +Grandfather and all the family came out to greet them, for they had been +seen approaching. There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + +It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin stood +and looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late to send back +for Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + +Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the object +of their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking up and down +the road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were explaining to each other +the details of their journeys, they had discovered some facts. + +"We shall have to go back," they exclaimed. "We are too late! The +maple-syrup was all made last spring." + +"We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months,--the cider +is not made till October." + +The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of neither +maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, perhaps forever! +The sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin still stood to look up and +down the road. + +... Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, as it +seemed for ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of prisoners,--how +they had watched the growth of flowers through cracks in the pavement. +She wondered how long she could live without eating. How thankful she +was for her abundant breakfast! + +At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to +answer it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was +impossible! + +How singular!--there were footsteps. Some one was going to the door; some +one had opened it. "They must be burglars." Well, perhaps that was a +better fate--to be gagged by burglars, and the neighbors informed--than +to be forever locked on her trunk. The steps approached the door. It +opened, and Amanda ushered in the expressman. + +Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the +breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she must +receive. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the key +of her trunk, and she was released! + +What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had given up +all hope of her family returning for her. But how could she reach them? + +She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until she +should come up with some of the family. At least she would fall in with +either the walking party or the carryall, or she would meet them if they +were on their return. + +She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took their +way, stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + +But much to Elizabeth Eliza's dismay, they turned off from the main road +on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver insisted he +must go round by Millikin's to leave a bedstead. They went round +by Millikin's, and then had further turns to make. Elizabeth Eliza +explained that in this way it would be impossible for her to find her +parents and family, and at last he proposed to take her all the way with +her trunk. She remembered with a shudder that when she had first asked +about her trunk, he had promised it should certainly be delivered the +next morning. Suppose they should have to be out all night? Where did +express-carts spend the night? She thought of herself in a lone wood, +in an express-wagon! She could hardly bring herself to ask, before +assenting, when he should arrive. + +"He guessed he could bring up before night." + +And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset +were looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about the lost +Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. A female form +sat upon the front seat. + +"She has decided to come by express," said Mrs. Peterkin. "It is--it +is--Elizabeth Eliza!" + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT THE "CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS" IN BOSTON. + +THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about the carnival +of authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was announced, their +interests were excited, and they determined that all the family should +go. + +But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they supposed +that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza thought their +lessons in the foreign languages would help them much in conversing in +character. + +As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there would be +time to read up everything written by all the authors, in order to be +acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. Peterkin did not +wish to begin too early upon the reading, for she was sure she should +forget all that the different authors had written before the day came. + +But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time enough, +as it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had given up her +French lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and had, indeed, +concluded she had learned in them all she should need to know of that +language. She could repeat one or two pages of phrases, and she was +astonished to find how much she could understand already of what the +French teacher said to her; and he assured her that when she went to +Paris she could at least ask the price of gloves, or of some other +things she would need, and he taught her, too, how to pronounce +"garcon," in calling for more. + +Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might make +themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys were already +acquainted with "Mother Goose." Mr. Peterkin had read the "Pickwick +Papers," and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Longfellow getting into +a horse-car. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give lectures +upon the "Arabian Nights." Everybody else was planning something of the +sort, to "raise funds" for some purpose, and she was sure they ought not +to be behindhand. Mrs. + +Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise +funds enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they +could go every night. + +Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the funds +for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds enough they +might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and take the carnival +comfortably. + +But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were authors, and +only authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had once started upon +writing a book, but he was not able to think of anything to put in it, +and nothing had occurred to him yet. + +Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could come +out before the carnival he could go as an author, and might have a booth +of his own, and take his family. + +But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an author. You +might indeed publish something, but you had to make sure that it would +be read. Mrs. + +Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled with +books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For herself, +she had not read half the books in their own library. And she was glad +there was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might know who they +were. + +Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a "Carnival"; but +he supposed they should find out when they went to it. + +Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed looking +over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some suitable +dresses there, and these would suggest what characters they should take. +Elizabeth Eliza was pleased with this thought. She remembered an old +turban of white mull muslin, in an old bandbox, and why should not her +mother wear it? + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own grandmother. + +Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the East, and +Mrs. + +Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John thought she +might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. Among the treasures +found were some old bonnets, of large size, with waving plumes. +Elizabeth Eliza decided upon the largest of these. + +She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John was to take +the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was planning to enter +upon the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was a little afraid of +sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great while finding the shore. + +Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a +coal-hod that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher Columbus +was born in Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian he had lately +learned of his teacher. + +As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + +Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a happy +thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would come in play, +and he was quite sure that his own family name made him kin to that of +the great Czar. He studied up the life in the Encyclopaedia, and decided +to take the costume of a ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and +some of the docks; but none of them gave him the true idea of dress for +ship-building in Holland or St. Petersburg. + +But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a +broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a costumer's, +and with Elizabeth Eliza's black waterproof was satisfied with his own +appearance. + +Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in some +Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large bonnet, but she +had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs on their heads, and +she might wear her own muff. + +Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of false +curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed over her +black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much like the +picture of their great-grandmother. But doubtless Cleopatra resembled +this picture, as it was all so long ago, so the rest of the family +decided. + +Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as represented in one +of the little boys' arks, was simple. His father's red-lined dressing +gown, turned inside out, permitted it easily. + +Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a long dress +of yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the little boys. For +the little boys were to represent two doves and a raven. There were +feather-dusters enough in the family for their costumes, which would be +then complete with their india-rubber boots. + +Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher Columbus. +He had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his pocket, proposing to +repeat, through the evening, the scene of setting the egg on its end. +He gave up the plan of a boat, as it must be difficult to carry one into +town; so he contented himself by practising the motion of landing by +stepping up on a chair. + +But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, as +Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if it were +not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to take an ark +into town as Solomon John's boat. + +The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the hall +late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as they +stopped at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found themselves +entangled with a number of people in costume coming out from a +dressing-room below. Mr. Peterkin was much encouraged. They were thus +joining the performers. The band was playing the "Wedding March" as they +went upstairs to a door of the hall which opened upon one side of the +stage. Here a procession was marching up the steps of the stage, all in +costume, and entering behind the scenes. + +"We are just in the right time," whispered Mr. Peterkin to his family; +"they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line." The little boys +had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from one of the managers +made Peterkin understand the situation. + +"We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens," he said. + +"I thought he was dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + +"Authors live forever!" said Agamemnon in her ear. + +At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage manager +glared at them, as he awaited their names for introduction, while they +came up all unannounced,--a part of the programme not expected. But he +uttered the words upon his lips, "Great Expectations;" and the Peterkin +family swept across the stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as +Peter the Great, Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon +John as Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. +Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. Columbus, +and the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + +Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then following +the rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the audience, they +went; but into an audience not dressed in costume! + +There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,--all the neighbors,--all +as natural as though they were walking the streets at home, though Ann +Maria did wear white gloves. + +"I had no idea you were to appear in character," said Ann Maria to +Elizabeth Eliza; "to what booth do you belong?" + +"We are no particular author," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Ah, I see, a sort of varieties' booth," said Mr. Osborne. + +"What is your character?" asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + +"I have not quite decided," said Elizabeth Eliza. "I thought I should +find out after I came here. The marshal called us 'Great Expectations.'" + +Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. "I have shaken hands with +Dickens!" she exclaimed. + +But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken +hands with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + +They had been swept off in Mother Goose's train, which had lingered on +the steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the procession of +characters in costume had closed. At this moment they were dancing +round the barberry bush, in a corner of the balcony in Mother Goose's +quarters, their feather-dusters gayly waving in the air. + +But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled herself +with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the grand closing +tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which swept her hither and +thither. At last she found herself in the Whittier Booth, and sat a long +time calmly there. As Cleopatra she seemed out of place, but as her own +grandmother she answered well with its New England scenery. + +Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he found a +chance to enter a booth. Once before an admiring audience he set up his +egg in the centre of the Goethe Booth, which had been deserted by its +committee for the larger stage. + +Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the Arabian +Nights. + +It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going +on the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups +represented there. + +Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the "Dream of Fair Women," at its +most culminating point. + +Mr. Peterkin found himself with the "Cricket on the Hearth," in the +Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but always in +the Russian language, which was never understood. + +Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every manager +was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to some other, and she +passed along, always trying to explain that she had not yet decided upon +her character. + +Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + +"I cannot understand," he said, "why none of our friends are dressed in +costume, and why we are." + +"I rather like it," said Elizabeth Eliza, "though I should be better +pleased if I could form a group with some one." + +The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join the +performers. It was the dance of her youth. + +But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led to the +stage. + +"I cannot understand this company," he said, distractedly. + +"They cannot find their booth," said another. + +"That is the case," said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + +"Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor," said a polite marshal. + +They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the +refreshment-room. + +"This is the booth for us," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Indeed it is," said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + +At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,--the little boys, who had +been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose's establishment, and now came down +for ice-cream. + +"I hardly know how to sit down," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for I am sure +Mrs. Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. Shem, I will +venture it." + +Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon arranged in +a row, calmly eating ice-cream. + +"I think the truth is," said Mr. Peterkin, "that we represent historical +people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters in books. That +is, I observe, what the others are. We shall know better another time." + +"If we only ever get home," said Mrs. Peterkin, "I shall not wish to +come again. It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it +is so bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going +round and round in this way." + +"I am afraid we shall never reach home," said Agamemnon, who had been +silent for some time; "we may have to spend the night here. I find I +have lost our checks for our clothes in the cloak-room!" + +"Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra's turban!" exclaimed Mrs. +Peterkin. + +"We should like to come every night," cried the little boys. + +"But to spend the night," repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + +"I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"But never to recover our cloaks," said Mrs. Peterkin; "could not the +little boys look round for the checks on the floors?" + +She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might never +see again. + +She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,--her grandmother's,--that +Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have made into a foot-rug. Now +how she wished she had! And there were Mr. Peterkin's new overshoes, +and Agamemnon had brought an umbrella, and the little boys had their +mittens. Their india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the +character of birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth +Eliza a muff. Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home +in the cold without them? No, it would be better to wait till everybody +had gone, and then look carefully over the floors for the checks; if +only the little boys could know where Agamemnon had been, they were +willing to look. Mr. Peterkin was not sure as they would have time to +reach the train. + +Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the +time. He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and he +thought it would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear it. + +At this moment the strains of "Home, Sweet Home" were heard from the +band, and people were seen preparing to go. + +"All can go home, but we must stay," said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, as +the well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + +A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at them, +whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + +"Can we do anything for you?" asked one at last. "Would you not like to +go?" He seemed eager they should leave the room. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the +checks for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor when +everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not describe +what they had worn, in which case the loss of the checks was not so +important, as the crowds had now almost left, and it would not be +difficult to identify their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin eagerly declared she +could describe every article. + +It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the quickly +deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their garments! Mrs. +Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness of the marshals; she +feared they had some pretext for getting the family out of the hall. +Mrs. Peterkin was one of those who never consent to be forced to +anything. She would not be compelled to go home, even with strains of +music. She whispered her suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came +hastily up to announce the time, which he had learned from the clock +in the large hall. They must leave directly if they wished to catch the +latest train, as there was barely time to reach it. + +Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss the +train! + +If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She +was the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed her, +just in time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + +The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of their +friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so they had +many questions put to them which they were unable to answer. Still Mrs. +Peterkin's turban was much admired, and indeed the whole appearance +of the family; so that they felt themselves much repaid for their +exertions. + +But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their +friends; but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, they +walked very slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys were sent +on with the pass-key to open the door. They soon returned with the +startling intelligence that it was not the right key, and they could not +get in. It was Mr. Peterkin's office-key; he had taken it by mistake, or +he might have dropped the house-key in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + +"Must we go back?" sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. More +than ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon's invention in keys +had failed to secure a patent! + +It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been allowed to +go and spend the night with a friend, so there was no use in ringing, +though the little boys had tried it. + +"We can return to the station," said Mr. Peterkin; "the rooms will be +warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think what we +shall do next." + +At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the New +York midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the train went +through at half-past. + +"I saw lights at the locksmith's over the way, as I passed," he said; +"why do not you send over to the young man there? He can get your door +open for you. I never would spend the night here." + +Solomon John went over to "the young man," who agreed to go up to the +house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open the door, +and come back to them on his way home. Solomon John came back to the +station, for it was now cold and windy in the deserted streets. The +family made themselves as comfortable as possible by the stove, sending +Solomon John out occasionally to look for the young man. But somehow +Solomon John missed him; the lights were out in the locksmith's shop, so +he followed along to the house, hoping to find him there. + +But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young man had +opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and Agamemnon went back +together, but they could not get in. Where was the young man? He had +lately come to town, and nobody knew where he lived, for on the return +of Solomon John and Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of +the young man. The night was wearing on. + +The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came and went +looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her turban, as she sat +by the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last the station-master +had to leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to lock up the station, +but he promised to return at an early hour to release them. + +"Of what use," said Elizabeth Eliza, "if we cannot even then get into +our own house?" + +Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had left +town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and helped himself to +spoons, and left. + +Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. +Solomon John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only ventured to +whisper his suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse Mrs. Peterkin, who +still was nodding in the corner of the long bench. + +Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; +perhaps by some effort in the early daylight they might make an +entrance. + +On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his beat. +He stopped when he saw the family. + +"Ah! that accounts," he said; "you were all out last night, and the +burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a lively +young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had been a +minute late he would have made his way in"--The family then tried to +interrupt--to explain--"Where is he?" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. + +"Safe in the lock-up," answered the policeman. + +"But he is the locksmith!" interrupted Solomon John. + +"We have no key!" said Elizabeth Eliza; "if you have locked up the +locksmith we can never get in." + +The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he +understood the case. + +"The locksmith!" he exclaimed; "he is a new fellow, and I did not +recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, +that he may let you in!" and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin +family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + +"It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him," said Mr. +Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the +house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he +appear so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in +the closet of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, +and, almost as soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released +locksmith, and a few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. + +The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the +policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, +pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the +family could go in. + +Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. +Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. "I shall never go to another +carnival!" she exclaimed. + + + + +THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. + +YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and +deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly +postponed. + +But here they were at last, at the "Old Farm," so called, where seaside +attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they +were to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of +Ann Maria Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them +there, though she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very +next day. + +Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole +thing had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be +sure, had not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, +wonderful to tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. + +Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and +the volumes of the Encyclopaedia that might tell him how to manage it, +and Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used +their india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and +carrying one in each hand,--a very convenient way for travelling they +considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their +boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat +inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room +enough could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted +to them. + +There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and camera. +Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of the machine +going off; so an out-house was found for them, where Agamemnon and +Solomon John could arrange them. + +Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and +low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little stuffy at +first. + +Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the farm +was evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he gave himself +to examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and the fields and +vegetable gardens, which were shown to him by a highly intelligent +person, a Mr. Atwood, who devoted himself to explaining to Mr. Peterkin +all the details of methods in the farming. + +The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, when +they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach the beach. +The advertisements had surely stated that the "Old Farm" was directly on +the shore, and that sea-bathing would be exceedingly convenient; which +was hardly the case if it took you an hour and a half to walk to it. + +Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies between the +advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; but he was more +than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to remain and admire it, +while the rest of the family went to find the beach, starting off in a +wagon large enough to accommodate them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + +Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the family in +a row on the beach; but he decided not to take his camera out the first +afternoon. + +This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached the +beach. + +"If this wagon were not so shaky," said Mrs. Peterkin "we might drive +over every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, and I +suppose Agamemnon can turn on the beach." + +"We should have to spend the whole day about it," said Solomon John, in +a discouraged tone, "unless we can have a quicker horse." + +"Perhaps we should prefer that," said Elizabeth Eliza, a little +gloomily, "to staying at the house." + +She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant and +fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was disappointed that +the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would understand the ways of the +place. Yet, again, she was somewhat relieved, for if their trunks did +not come till the next day, as was feared, she should have nothing but +her travelling dress to wear, which would certainly answer for to-night. + +She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses for +this very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would hardly need +them, and was disappointed to have no chance to display them. But of +course, when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria came, all would be different; +but they would surely be wasted on the two old ladies she had seen, and +on the old men who had lounged about the porch; there surely was not a +gentleman among them. + +Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as gentlemen +wore their exercise dress, and took a pride in going around in shocking +hats and flannel suits. Doubtless they would be dressed for dinner on +their return. + +On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals by +themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating dinner or +lunch. There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, that might come +under either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were well pleased. + +"I had no idea we should have really farm-fare," Mrs. Peterkin said. "I +have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young." + +Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first meal, as +evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in spite of the +numerous letters that had been exchanged. + +The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment of +their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining to go +to the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and horses; and all +the way over to the beach the other little boys were hopping in and out +of the wagon, which never went too fast, to pick long mullein-stalks, +for whips to urge on the reluctant horse with, or to gather +huckleberries, with which they were rejoiced to find the fields were +filled, although, as yet, the berries were very green. + +They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; +but Mrs. + +Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it +was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + +On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the +same old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. + +"A little seedy, I should say," said Solomon John. + +"Smoking pipes," said Agamemnon; "I believe that is the latest style." + +"The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable," Mrs. Peterkin was +forced to say. + +There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where they were +to be put, and as to their meals. + +Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, who +were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them was +very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered from +a moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort of +factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of +invalids to appear. + +"Regular bed-ridden," Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza +did not consider respectful. + +Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the +house, very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it in +admirable order. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and +ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and +tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted +that it was to be "tea," and if they were unused to a late dinner they +might be disturbed if they had only provided a "tea." + +So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised when +Martha replied, "The lady must say," nodding to Mrs. Peterkin. "She can +have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!" + +This was an unexpected courtesy. + +Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + +"Oh, they took it a long time ago," Martha answered. "If the lady will +go out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants." + +"Bring us in what you have," said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry. +"If you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well." + +"Perhaps some eggs," murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Scrambled," cried one of the little boys. + +"Fried potatoes would not be bad," suggested Agamemnon. + +"Couldn't we have some onions?" asked the little boy who had stayed +at home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their +supper. + +"A pie would come in well," said Solomon John. + +"And some stewed cherries," said the other little boy. + +Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, when, +in the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended appeared. +Their appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food the same. + +"This is true Arab hospitality," said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his juicy +beefsteak. + +"I know it," said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. "We have +not even seen the host and hostess." + +She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her when the +Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room was in +the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the aged deaf +and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by perplexed +thoughts. + +She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances, would +have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or the +Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to? She +fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both +parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any use +in sending to the Sylvesters' usual address, which she knew well by this +time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would +know they had not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + +She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. +Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where people were +going to, and where to send their letters. She might, at least, write +two letters, to say that they--the Peterkins--had arrived, and were +disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she could add that their +trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their friends might look out for +them on their way. It really seemed a good plan to write. Yet +another question came up, as to how she would get her letters to the +post-office, as she had already learned it was at quite a distance, and +in a different direction from the station, where they were to send the +next day for their trunks. + +She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the coughing +and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin partition. + +She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by the +morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of fowl. + +Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and +declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + +They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach +only in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was +appointed at noon. + +Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. "Such a straight road, and the beach +such a safe place to turn round upon!" + +Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the +station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably +left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been +switched off upon one of the White Mountain trains. There was no use to +write any letters, as there was no way to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now +almost hoped the Sylvesters would not come, for what should she do if +the trunks did not come and all her new dresses? On her way over to the +beach she had been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and +cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their time +was spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she would +prefer that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses and the +trunks did. All she could find out, from inquiry, on returning, +was, "that another lot was expected on Saturday." The next day she +suggested:--"Suppose we take our dinner with us to the beach, and spend +the day." The Sylvesters and Ann Maria then would find them on the +beach, where her travelling-dress would be quite appropriate. "I am a +little tired," she added, "of going back and forward over the same road; +but when the rest come we can vary it." + +The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys remained to +go over the farm again. + +They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a ledge +of sand. + +They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of people +approaching from the other end of the beach. + +"I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last," said Elizabeth +Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + +As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria Bromwick! And with +her were the Sylvesters,--so they proved to be, for she had never seen +them before. + +"What! you have come in our absence!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And we have been wondering what had become of you!" cried Ann Maria. + +"I thought you would be at the farm before us," said Elizabeth Eliza to +Mr. + +Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + +"We have been looking for you at the farm," he was saying to her. + +"But we are at the farm," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And so are we!" said Ann Maria. + +"We have been there two days," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"And so have we, at the 'Old Farm,' just at the end of the beach," said +Ann Maria. + +"Our farm is old enough," said Solomon John. + +"Whereabouts are you?" asked Mr. Sylvester. + +Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + +A smile came over Mr. Sylvester's face; he knew the country well. + +"You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?" he +asked. + +The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + +Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over the +faces of all the party. + +"Why, that is the Poor-house!" she exclaimed. + +"The town farm," Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + +The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to +laugh. + +"There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women there!" said +Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + +"But we have surely been made very comfortable," Mrs. Peterkin declared. + +"A very simple mistake," said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his amusement. +"Your trunks arrived all right at the 'Old Farm,' two days ago." + +"Let us go back directly," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"As directly as our horse will allow," said Agamemnon. + +Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. "Your rooms are awaiting you," +he said. "Why not come with us?" + +"We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else," said Mrs. +Peterkin. + +They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, "Do you suppose +they took us for paupers?" + +"We have not seen any 'they,'" said Solomon John, "except Mr. Atwood." + +At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + +"I have been looking for you," he said. "I have just made a discovery." + +"We have made it, too," said Elizabeth Eliza; "we are in the +poor-house." + +"How did you find it out?" Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + +"Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been brought to +him from the station, which he ought to have got two days ago. It came +from a Mr. Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his +wife and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to +say he cannot come till Friday. Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the +Peterses, whom he had sent for the day we arrived, not having received +this telegram." + +"Oh, I see, I see!" said Mrs. Peterkin; "and we did get into a muddle at +the station!" + +Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. "I beg pardon," he said. "I hope you +have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you stay till +Mr. Peters' family comes." + +At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with an +open wagon, to take the Peterkins to the "Old Farm." + +Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, "Beg +pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and putting you +in that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to take you off every +day with the other gentlemen, that looked so wandering." + +Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + +Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till +Friday. But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave with Mr. +Sylvester, and to take their electrical machine and camera when they +came for Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened once more +by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. There was not much +packing to be done. She shouted good-by into the ears of the deaf old +lady, and waved her hand to the foreign one, and glad to bid farewell to +the old men with their pipes, leaning against the porch. + +"This time," she said, "it is not our trunks that were lost" + +"But we, as a family," said Mrs. Peterkin. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + +***** This file should be named 3028.txt or 3028.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/3028/ + +Produced by David Reed + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Hale + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. Hale + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Peterkin Papers + +Author: Lucretia P. Hale + +Release Date: October 27, 2009 [EBook #3028] +Last Updated: November 7, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PETERKIN PAPERS *** + + + + +Produced by David Reed, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto" cellpadding="4" border="3"> +<tr> +<td> +THERE IS AN ILLUSTRATED EDITION OF THIS TITLE WHICH MAY VIEWED AT EBOOK <big><b><a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/25648"> +[# 25648 ]</a></b></big> +</td> +</tr> +</table> + + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE PETERKIN PAPERS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Lucretia P. Hale + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p> + Dedicated + </p> + <p> + To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) + </p> + <p> + To Whom These Stories Were First Told + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin + Papers </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN + BOSTON. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + </h2> + <p> + THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor for the + “Young Folks.” They were afterwards continued in numbers of the “St. + Nicholas.” + </p> + <p> + A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has never + before been published, “The Peterkins at the Farm.” + </p> + <p> + It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about + publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matter + to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she might + happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, and + everybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, and help + it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and all her + servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take so + long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could they + get the whole subject on a postal? + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but one + question:— + </p> + <p> + Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + </p> + <p> + This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family to sign, + the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of their + india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to the + post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day, and + all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers on postals + and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady from + Philadelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been read by + their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it must have + been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals and + letters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in the + same tone: “Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family.” + </p> + <p> + “Publish them, of course.” + </p> + <p> + And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:—“Yes, of + course; publish them.” + </p> + <p> + This is why they were published. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. + </h2> + <p> + THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious + cup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found + she had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? + Of course she couldn’t drink the coffee; so she called in the family, for + she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in; they + all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and all sat down + to think. + </p> + <p> + At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, “Why don’t we go over + and ask the advice of the chemist?” (For the chemist lived over the way, + and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, “Yes,” and Mr. Peterkin + said, “Very well,” and all the children said they would go too. So the + little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went. + </p> + <p> + Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turn + everything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle into + which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuable things, + and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost found what he + wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now he had used up + all the gold that he had round the house, and gold was high. He had used + up his wife’s gold thimble and his great-grandfather’s gold-bowed + spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of his + great-great-grandfather’s cane; and, just as the Peterkin family came in, + he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him have her + wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knew he + should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; and then + she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeralds and + rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into the finest + of gold. + </p> + <p> + Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in. You + can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing his crucible—that + was the name of his melting-pot—at their heads. But he didn’t. He + listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs. Peterkin had put + salt in her coffee. + </p> + <p> + At first he said he couldn’t do anything about it; but when Agamemnon said + they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up his bottles in a + leather case, and went back with them all. + </p> + <p> + First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a + little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it + tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. But + Mrs. Peterkin didn’t like that. Then he added some tartaric acid and some + hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. “I have it!” exclaimed + the chemist,—“a little ammonia is just the thing!” No, it wasn’t the + thing at all. + </p> + <p> + Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric, + chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic, + nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and said + the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then he + tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clear + bitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. This + gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist + was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some + granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing + off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not satisfied. + </p> + <p> + The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the salt. + The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed. Perhaps + a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all the time he + could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all much obliged + to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold was now 2.69 3/4, + so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave Agamemnon a pretty + little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there was the coffee! All + sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Why don’t we go to the + herb-woman?” Elizabeth Eliza was the only daughter. She was named after + her two aunts,—Elizabeth, from the sister of her father; Eliza, from + her mother’s sister. Now, the herb-woman was an old woman who came round + to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They all shouted with joy at the + idea of asking her, and Solomon John and the younger children agreed to go + and find her too. The herb-woman lived down at the very end of the street; + so the boys put on their india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It + was a long walk through the village, but they came at last to the + herb-woman’s house, at the foot of a high hill. They went through her + little garden. Here she had marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and + tall sunflowers, and all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air + was full of tansy-tea and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and + a brandy-cherry tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung + its delicious fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, + which smelt very spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and + peppermint, and all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the + ceiling; and on the shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the + like. + </p> + <p> + But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to get + some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow her,—Elizabeth + Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to climb up over high + rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black berry-vines. But the + little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last they discovered the + little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was steeple-crowned, + without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel round a sassafras + bush. They told her their story,—-how their mother had put salt in + her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead of better, and + how their mother couldn’t drink it, and wouldn’t she come and see what she + could do? And she said she would, and took up her little old apron, with + pockets all round, all filled with everlasting and pennyroyal, and went + back to her house. + </p> + <p> + There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all the kinds + of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seed and dill, + spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil and rosemary, + wild thyme and some of the other time,—-such as you have in clocks,—sappermint + and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, there isn’t a kind of + herb you can think of that the little old woman didn’t have done up in her + little paper bags, that had all been dried in her little Dutch-oven. She + packed these all up, and then went back with the children, taking her + stick. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, and + began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop for + the bitter. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then she + tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, and some + caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoram and + sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint and peppermint, + some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, some tansy and basil, + and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, and pennyroyal. The + children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadful faces. Mrs. + Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old woman stirred, and the + more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + </p> + <p> + So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and said she + must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up her packets + of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick, and went + back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in the air and half + out. And all she would take for pay was five cents in currency. + </p> + <p> + Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while. It + was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn’t had her cup of + coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, “They say that the lady from + Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and ask + her what is best to be done.” To this they all agreed, it was a great + thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + </p> + <p> + She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,—how her mother + had put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he + tried everything but could make it no better; and how they went for the + little old herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother + couldn’t drink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very + attentively, and then said, “Why doesn’t your mother make a fresh cup of + coffee?” Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finished his + sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. “Why didn’t we think of + that?” said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to their mother, and + she had her cup of coffee. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA’S PIANO. + </h2> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of + the postmaster’s daughter. + </p> + <p> + They decided to have the piano set across the window in the parlor, and + the carters brought it in, and went away. + </p> + <p> + After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but they + found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards the middle of + the room, standing close against the window. + </p> + <p> + How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys to play + upon it? + </p> + <p> + Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which Agamemnon + could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon the + piazza, and open the piano. Then she could have her music-stool on the + piazza, and play upon the piano there. + </p> + <p> + So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to see + Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the piazza, with + the honeysuckle vines behind her. + </p> + <p> + It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked to take + a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family liked to sit on + the piazza. + </p> + <p> + So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + </p> + <p> + All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall came, Mr. + Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open window, and the family + did not want to sit out on the piazza. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was + obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so. + </p> + <p> + One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, she spoke + of this trouble. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, “But why don’t + you turn the piano round?” + </p> + <p> + One of the little boys pertly said, “It is a square piano.” + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of Agamemnon + and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + </p> + <p> + “Why did we not think of that before?” said Mrs. Peterkin. “What shall we + do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. + </h2> + <p> + THEY were sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they + should do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. “If,” said + Mrs. Peterkin, “we could only be more wise as a family!” How could they + manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the children all went to + school; but still as a family they were not wise. “It comes from books,” + said one of the family. “People who have a great many books are very + wise.” Then they counted up that there were very few books in the house,—a + few school-books and Mrs. Peterkin’s cook-book were all. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the thing!” said Agamemnon. “We want a library.” + </p> + <p> + “We want a library!” said Solomon John. And all of them exclaimed, “We + want a library!” + </p> + <p> + “Let us think how we shall get one,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I have observed + that other people think a great deal of thinking.” + </p> + <p> + So they all sat and thought a great while. + </p> + <p> + Then said Agamemnon, “I will make a library. There are some boards in the + wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails, and perhaps we can borrow + some hinges, and there we have our library!” + </p> + <p> + They were all very much pleased at the idea. + </p> + <p> + “That’s the book-case part,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “but where are the + books?” + </p> + <p> + So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, “I + will make a book!” + </p> + <p> + They all looked at him in wonder. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Solomon John, “books will make us wise, but first I must make + a book.” + </p> + <p> + So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But there was + no ink. + </p> + <p> + What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that + nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make some. The + little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the woods. So they + all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins put on her + cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and + off they went. + </p> + <p> + The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else in the + woods,—chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a great + many squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they found any + nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket and two nutgalls in + it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. Peterkin had used her very + last on some beets they had the day before. “Suppose we go and ask the + minister’s wife,” said Elizabeth Eliza. So they all went to the minister’s + wife. She said if they wanted some good vinegar they had better set a + barrel of cider down in the cellar, and in a year or two it would make + very nice vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very afternoon. When + the minister’s wife heard this, she said she should be very glad to let + them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry home. + </p> + <p> + So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they had + very good ink. + </p> + <p> + Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, but Solomon + John said, “Poets always used quills.” Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they + should go out to the poultry-yard and get a quill. But it was already + dark. They had, however, two lanterns, and the little boys borrowed the + neighbors’. They set out in procession for the poultry-yard. When they got + there, the fowls were all at roost, so they could look at them quietly. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK. + </h2> + <p> + But there were no geese! There were Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and + Guinea hens, and Barbary hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, and + bantams, and ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! “No geese but + ourselves,” said Mrs. Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. + The sight of this procession roused up the village. “A torchlight + procession!” cried all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the + house, shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, and + give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them that it + was only his family visiting his hens. + </p> + <p> + After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of his + writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore to get a + quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was just shutting up + his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and + they hurried home. + </p> + <p> + So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And now the + bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the mail was about in, + and perhaps he should have a letter, and then they could use the envelope + to write upon. So they all went to the post-office, and the little boys + had their india-rubber boots on, and they all shouted when they found Mr. + Peterkin had a letter. The postmaster inquired what they were shouting + about; and when they told him, he said he would give Solomon John a whole + sheet of paper for his book. And they all went back rejoicing. + </p> + <p> + So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table looking + at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped his pen into the + ink and held it over the paper, and thought a minute, and then said, “But + I haven’t got anything to say.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. + </h2> + <p> + ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been having a + great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, “I believe I + shall take a ride this morning!” + </p> + <p> + And the little boys cried out, “Oh, may we go too?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + </p> + <p> + So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and Agamemnon + went off to their business, and Solomon John to school; and Mrs. Peterkin + began to get ready for her ride. + </p> + <p> + She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, and some + gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza wanted to pick some + flowers to take to the minister’s wife, so it took them a long time to + prepare. + </p> + <p> + The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, and + Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin put on her + cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little boys were in + their india-rubber boots, and they got into the carriage. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took up + the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly stopped, + and would not go any farther. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she clucked to + the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little boys whistled and + shouted; but still the horse would not go. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to whip him,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse would not + go, she said she would get out and turn her head the other way, while + Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he began to go she would hurry + and get in. + </p> + <p> + So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we have too heavy a load,” said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got in. + </p> + <p> + So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, but + still the horse would not go. + </p> + <p> + One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just then, + called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, and they could + not hear exactly what she said. + </p> + <p> + “I have tried the whip,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “She says ‘whips,’ such as you eat,” said one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We might make those,” said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + “We have got plenty of cream,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, let us have some whips,” cried the little boys, getting out. + </p> + <p> + And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and the wind + was very high. + </p> + <p> + So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and made some + very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all round, and they all + thought they were very nice. + </p> + <p> + They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very quickly. + </p> + <p> + “That is just what he wanted,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “now he will certainly + go!” + </p> + <p> + So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and the + gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and + they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + </p> + <p> + “We must either give up our ride,” said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, “or + else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she will say.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were eager to go + and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza went with them, while + her mother took the reins. + </p> + <p> + They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, and was + in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, she very kindly + said they might draw up the curtain from the window at the foot of the + bed, and open the blinds, and she would see. Then she asked for her + opera-glass, and looked through it, across the way, up the street, to Mrs. + Peterkin’s door. + </p> + <p> + After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned her head + back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then said, “Why don’t + you unchain the horse from the horse-post?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then + hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was untied, and + they all went to ride. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. + </h2> + <p> + ANOTHER little incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at + dinner-time. + </p> + <p> + They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of the + children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half liked lean. + Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham turned out to be a very + remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate slices,—first + one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, and so on. Mr. + Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, according to their + age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; and Elizabeth Eliza, + who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, who could eat nothing + but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had what he could eat. + </p> + <p> + It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the + vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children saw + upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet potato and + sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because not one was + satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat + and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they looked up and saw + the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into + their plates. + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter now?” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, however, + made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her lean, and so + on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty. + </p> + <p> + “What shall be done now?” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + They all sat and thought for a little while. + </p> + <p> + At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, “Suppose we ask the lady + from Philadelphia what is best to be done.” + </p> + <p> + But Mr. Peterkin said he didn’t like to go to her for everything; let the + children try and eat their dinner as it was. + </p> + <p> + And they all tried, but they couldn’t. “Very well, then.” said Mr. + Peterkin, “let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + “All of us?” cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the + moment. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “only put on your india-rubber boots.” And they + hurried out of the house. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she kindly + stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon and Elizabeth + Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from Philadelphia said, + “But why don’t you give the slices of fat to those who like the fat, and + the slices of lean to those who like the lean?” + </p> + <p> + They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza, and + Solomon John looked at the little boys. “Why didn’t we think of that?” + said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. + </h2> + <p> + THE trouble was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the + dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up + from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she + could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach it. + All the family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in vain; the + dinner could not be stirred. + </p> + <p> + “No dinner!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite hungry,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + At last Mr. Peterkin said, “I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the + kitchen.” + </p> + <p> + This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one went + down, taking a napkin. + </p> + <p> + The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the + family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but she + could not move it down. + </p> + <p> + The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between the + kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it! + </p> + <p> + “What is there for dinner?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Roast turkey,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + </p> + <p> + “Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato,” Mrs. Peterkin continued. + </p> + <p> + “Sweet potato!” exclaimed both the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + anxious to find a bright point. + </p> + <p> + “Let us sit down and think about it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I have an idea,” said Agamemnon, after a while. + </p> + <p> + “Let us hear it,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Let each one speak his mind.” + </p> + <p> + “The turkey,” said Agamemnon, “must be just above the kitchen door. If I + had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach it.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a great idea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “If you think you could do it,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Would it not be better to have a carpenter?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have neither,” + said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “A carpenter! A carpenter!” exclaimed the rest. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys should + go in search of a carpenter. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a book; for he + had another idea. + </p> + <p> + “This affair of the turkey,” he said, “reminds me of those buried cities + that have been dug out,—Herculaneum, for instance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, “and Pompeii.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “they found there pots and kettles. Now, I should + like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a book and read. I + think it was done with a pickaxe.” + </p> + <p> + So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter’s shop, + there was no carpenter to be found there. + </p> + <p> + “He must be at his house, eating his dinner,” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Happy man,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “he has a dinner to eat!” + </p> + <p> + They went to the carpenter’s house, but found he had gone out of town for + a day’s job. But his wife told them that he always came back at night to + ring the nine-o’clock bell. + </p> + <p> + “We must wait till then,” said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at + cheerfulness. + </p> + <p> + At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down to hear of + Herculaneum and Pompeii. + </p> + <p> + Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to have tea + when they had had no dinner? A part of the family thought it would not do; + the rest wanted tea. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was here not + long ago,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Let us try to think what she would advise us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I wish she were here,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Mr. Peterkin, “she would say, let them that want tea have + it; the rest can go without.” + </p> + <p> + So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much was + eaten, as there had been no dinner. + </p> + <p> + When the nine-o’clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon John, and the + little boys rushed to the church, and found the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it might be + a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + </p> + <p> + When the matter was explained to him, he went into the dining-room, looked + into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and arranged the weight, and + pulled up the dinner. + </p> + <p> + There was a family shout. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble was in the weight,” said the carpenter. + </p> + <p> + “That is why it is called a dumb-waiter,” Solomon John explained to the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + The dinner was put upon the table. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for the next + day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + </p> + <p> + But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda warmed + over the vegetables. + </p> + <p> + “Patient waiters are no losers,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ SUMMER JOURNEY. + </h2> + <p> + IN fact, it was their last summer’s journey—for it had been planned + then; but there had been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + </p> + <p> + The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a trunk + suitable for travelling. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a week at a time + at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for Elizabeth Eliza when she + went to the seminary. Solomon John and Mr. Peterkin, each had his + patent-leather hand-bag. But all these were too small for the family. And + the little boys wanted to carry their kite. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother’s trunk. This was a hair-trunk, + very large and capacious. It would hold everything they would want to + carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk, or the valise and + bags. + </p> + <p> + Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next day the + things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin’s room, for her to see if they + could all be packed. + </p> + <p> + “If we can get along,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “without having to ask + advice, I shall be glad!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “It is time now for people to be coming to ask + advice of us.” + </p> + <p> + The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things that were + already in the trunk. Here were last year’s winter things, and not only + these, but old clothes that had been put away,—Mrs. Peterkin’s + wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear before they put on + jackets and trousers. + </p> + <p> + All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old things, + putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could think of, both + summer and winter ones, because you never can tell what sort of weather + you will have. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. There were + her own and Elizabeth Eliza’s best bonnets in a bandbox; also Solomon + John’s hats, for he had an old one and a new one. He bought a new hat for + fishing, with a very wide brim and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas still + larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + </p> + <p> + “I have never had a chance to look at them,” he said; “but when one + travels, then is the time to study geography.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin packed his + tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her just as she had + packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it would help to smooth + the dresses, and placed it on top; but she was forced to take all out, and + set it at the bottom. This was not so much matter, as she had not yet the + right dresses to put in. Both Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza would need + new dresses for this occasion. The little boys’ hoops went in; so did + their india-rubber boots, in case it should not rain when they started. + They each had a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, that were packed. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second day to + see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even the little boys’ + kite lay smoothly on the top. + </p> + <p> + “I like to see a thing so nicely done,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to move + it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John could lift it alone, + or all together. + </p> + <p> + Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of it. + </p> + <p> + “Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things.” + </p> + <p> + “But we did not plan expressing it,” said Mrs. Peterkin, in a discouraged + tone. + </p> + <p> + “We can take a carriage,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage,” said Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “The hackman could not lift it, either,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “People do travel with a great deal of baggage,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And with very large trunks,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Still they are trunks that can be moved,” said Mr. Peterkin, giving + another try at the trunk in vain. “I am afraid we must give it up,” he + said; “it would be such a trouble in going from place to place.” + </p> + <p> + “We would not mind if we got it to the place,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “But how to get it there?” Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + </p> + <p> + “This is our first obstacle,” said Agamemnon; “we must do our best to + conquer it.” + </p> + <p> + “What is an obstacle?” asked the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “It is the trunk,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary,” said Agamemnon, taking + the large volume from the trunk. “Ah, here it is—” And he read:— + “OBSTACLE, an impediment.” + </p> + <p> + “That is a worse word than the other,” said one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “But listen to this,” and Agamemnon continued: “Impediment is something + that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands in the way; + obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; hinderance, something + that holds back.” + </p> + <p> + “The trunk is all these,” said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “It does not entangle the feet,” said Solomon John, “for it can’t move.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish it could,” said the little boys together. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the trunk and + putting them away. + </p> + <p> + “At least,” she said, “this has given me some experience in packing.” + </p> + <p> + And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + </p> + <p> + But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested that + they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the station; + the little boys could go and come with the things. But Elizabeth Eliza + thought the place too public. + </p> + <p> + Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + </p> + <p> + At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a good-sized + family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the journey was put + off from that summer. + </p> + <p> + But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family consultation + was held about packing it. Many things would have to be left at home, it + was so much smaller than the grandmother’s hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had + been studying the atlas through the winter, and felt familiar with the + more important places, so it would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. + Peterkin decided to leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. With great + care and discretion, and by borrowing two more leather bags, it could be + accomplished. Everything of importance could be packed, except the little + boys’ kite. What should they do about that? + </p> + <p> + The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon John and + Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + </p> + <p> + “I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of the + lady from Philadelphia,” said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + </p> + <p> + “She has come on here,” said Agamemnon, “and we have not been to see her + this summer.” + </p> + <p> + “She may think we have been neglecting her,” suggested Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion about the + kite. + </p> + <p> + They came back in high spirits. + </p> + <p> + “She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite when we get + there,” they cried. + </p> + <p> + “What a sensible idea!” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; “and I may have leisure to + help you.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll take plenty of newspapers,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And twine,” said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + </p> + <p> + The question then was, “When should they go?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. + </h2> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN awoke one morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The + wind had flung the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the + house, and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering + hedges and fences. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but nothing + could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white snow. Even Mr. + Bromwick’s house, on the opposite side of the street, was hidden by the + swift-falling flakes. + </p> + <p> + “What shall I do about it?” thought Mrs. Peterkin. “No roads cleared out! + Of course there’ll be no butcher and no milkman!” + </p> + <p> + The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for there + was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no knowing when they + would have anything more to eat. + </p> + <p> + It was best to secure the breakfast first. + </p> + <p> + So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, waking + the family, and before long all were dressed and downstairs. + </p> + <p> + And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + </p> + <p> + All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was frozen. They + could open the door into the wood-house; but the wood-house door into the + yard was banked up with snow; and the front door, and the piazza door, and + the side door stuck. Nobody could get in or out! + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the kitchen fire, but + had discovered there was no furnace coal. + </p> + <p> + “The furnace coal was to have come to-day,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + apologetically. + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will come to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + </p> + <p> + But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + </p> + <p> + All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little boys + were much pleased to have “ice-cream” for breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “When we get a little warm,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we will consider what is + to be done.” + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “I + was to have had a leg of mutton to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing will come to-day,” said Agamemnon, gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Are these sausages the last meat in the house?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she had meant + to order more flour that very day. + </p> + <p> + “Then we are eating our last provisions,” said Solomon John, helping + himself to another sausage. + </p> + <p> + “I almost wish we had stayed in bed,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first,” repeated Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “There’s the pig!” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and could be + reached under cover. + </p> + <p> + But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + </p> + <p> + “We should have to ‘corn’ part of him,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “My butcher has always told me,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that if I wanted a + ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have not the ham!” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we could ‘corn’ one or two of his legs,” suggested one of the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We need not settle that now,” said Mr. Peterkin. “At least the pig will + keep us from starving.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + </p> + <p> + “If we had only decided to keep a cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Alas! yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “one learns a great many things too late!” + </p> + <p> + “Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!” exclaimed the little + boys. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were quite + pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and hurried through + their breakfasts that they might go and try to shovel out a path from one + of the doors. + </p> + <p> + “I ought to know more about the water-pipes,” said Mr. Peterkin. “Now, I + shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I forgot to; and I + ought to have shut it off in the cellar.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were going + to try the side door. + </p> + <p> + “Another thing I have learned to-day,” said Mr. Peterkin, “is not to have + all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm blows the snow + against all the doors.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John started up. + </p> + <p> + “Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!” he + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use,” asked Mr. Peterkin, “since we have no door on the east + side?” + </p> + <p> + “We could cut one,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we could cut a door,” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?” asked Elizabeth + Eliza,—“for there is no window.” + </p> + <p> + In fact, the east side of the Peterkins’ house formed a blank wall. The + owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached houses. He + had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + </p> + <p> + “It is not necessary to see,” said Agamemnon, profoundly; “of course, if + the storm blows against this side of the house, the house itself must keep + the snow from the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Solomon John, “there must be a space clear of snow on the east + side of the house, and if we could open a way to that “—“We could + open a way to the butcher,” said Mr. Peterkin, promptly. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house ever since + the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + </p> + <p> + “What part of the wall had we better attack?” asked Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + </p> + <p> + “What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?” she exclaimed. + “Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?” + </p> + <p> + “It is right to preserve ourselves from starving,” said Mr. Peterkin. “The + drowning man must snatch at a straw!” + </p> + <p> + “It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the thaw + comes,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “than that he should find us lying about the + house, dead of hunger, upon the floor.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + </p> + <p> + The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not succeeded in + opening the side door, and were planning trying to open the door from the + wood-house to the garden. + </p> + <p> + “That would be of no use,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “the butcher cannot get + into the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “But we might shovel off the snow,” suggested one of the little boys, “and + dig down to some of last year’s onions.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had been bringing + together their carpenter’s tools, and Elizabeth Eliza proposed using a + gouge, if they would choose the right spot to begin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to find,—one, + a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda armed herself with a + poker. + </p> + <p> + “It would be better to begin on the ground floor,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Except that we may meet with a stone foundation,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “If the wall is thinner upstairs,” said Agamemnon, “it will do as well to + cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher may bring below + in his cart.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable place, + and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually cut a bit + out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. Solomon John confided + to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of stories of prisoners who cut + themselves free, through stone walls, after days and days of secret labor. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. She was + interrupted by a voice behind her. + </p> + <p> + “Here’s your leg of mutton, marm!” + </p> + <p> + It was the butcher. How had he got in? + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back gate is + kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I could not make + anybody hear me knock at the side door.” + </p> + <p> + “But how did you make a path to the door?” asked Mr. Peterkin. “You must + have been working at it a long time. It must be near noon now.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m about on regular time,” answered the butcher. “The town team has + cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down the last half-hour. + The storm is over.” + </p> + <p> + True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had not + noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + </p> + <p> + “And we were all up an hour earlier than usual,” said Mr. Peterkin, when + the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a pickaxe + in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “If we had lain abed till the usual time,” said Solomon John, “we should + have been all right.” + </p> + <p> + “For here is the milkman!” said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now heard + at the side door. + </p> + <p> + “It is a good thing to learn,” said Mr. Peterkin, “not to get up any + earlier than is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. + </h2> + <p> + NOT that they were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. + But for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a cow, + to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be so healthy. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and how near + they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe snow-storm, and + the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If the cow-shed could open + out of the wood-shed, such trouble might be prevented. + </p> + <p> + Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, and Agamemnon + and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, in case Tony should be + “snowed up,” or have the whooping-cough in the course of the winter. The + little boys thought they knew how already. + </p> + <p> + But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it was + important to know where to keep it. + </p> + <p> + “One way will be,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “to use a great deal every day. We + will make butter.” + </p> + <p> + “That will be admirable,” thought Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “And custards,” suggested Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And syllabub,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And cocoa-nut cakes,” exclaimed the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “We don’t need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of a cow. + You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would be pleasant + climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall have to feed the cow.” + </p> + <p> + “Where shall we pasture her?” asked Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Up on the hills, up on the hills,” exclaimed the little boys, “where + there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the house. + </p> + <p> + “But I don’t know,” he said, “but the cow might eat off all the grass in + one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless the grass + grew fast enough every night.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy season the + grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might not grow at all. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is the worst of having a cow,—there + might be a drought.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the quantity of + grass in the lot. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by seeing how much + grass the Bromwicks’ cow, opposite them, eat up in a day. + </p> + <p> + The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the Bromwicks’ + fence, and take an observation. + </p> + <p> + “The trouble would be,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “that cows walk about so, + and the Bromwicks’ yard is very large. Now she would be eating in one + place, and then she would walk to another. She would not be eating all the + time, a part of the time she would be chewing.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have some + sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the calculations + were made. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the place, and + very likely they would make the cow angry.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. Peterkin’s + lot for his cow. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin started up. + </p> + <p> + “That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there was feed + enough for one cow.” + </p> + <p> + “And the reason you didn’t let him have it,” said Solomon John, “was that + Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows.” + </p> + <p> + “I did not like the idea,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “of their cow’s looking + at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be planting the + sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a quiet one. I should + not like her jumping over the fence into the flower-beds.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest kind. + </p> + <p> + “I should think something might be done about covering her horns,” said + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin; “that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might be + padded with cotton.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if they + came at you they could not help knocking you over. + </p> + <p> + The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. Half the + fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after her. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + </p> + <p> + “The cow would like it ever so much better,” the little boys declared, “on + account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks and the bushes, she + could walk round and find the grassy places.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not sure,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but it would be less dangerous to + keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because she would not be coming + and going, morning and night, in that jerky way the Larkins’ cows come + home. They don’t mind which gate they rush in at. I should hate to have + our cow dash into our front yard just as I was coming home of an + afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true,” said Mr. Peterkin; “we can have the door of the cow-house + open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and going.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the exercise, + and they would lose a great pleasure. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch the cow. + </p> + <p> + It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they were to + put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build a dairy. + </p> + <p> + The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the family + stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly walking into the + shed. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. It was + the one she did her gardening in, and it might have infuriated the cow. + And she kept out of the garden the first day or two. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of milk-pans, of + every size. + </p> + <p> + But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + </p> + <p> + The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza said + she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, though she would + like to do her best to patronize the cow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking care of + the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she was sure the pans + and the closet were all clean. + </p> + <p> + “Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from Philadelphia to + try,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “it will be a pretty attention before she + goes.” + </p> + <p> + “It might be awkward if she didn’t like it,” said Solomon John. “Perhaps + something is the matter with the grass.” + </p> + <p> + “I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday,” said one of the little boys, + remorsefully. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all to the + lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the milk + was sour! + </p> + <p> + “I was afraid it was so,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “but I didn’t know what to + expect from these new kinds of cows.” + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + </p> + <p> + “In the new dairy,” answered Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Is that in a cool place?” asked the lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Is it near the chimney?” inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + “It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range,” replied + Elizabeth Eliza. “I suppose it is too hot!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well!” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that is it! Last winter the milk froze, + and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall we put our dairy?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ CHRISTMAS-TREE. + </h2> + <p> + EARLY in the autumn the Peterkins began to prepare for their + Christmas-tree. + </p> + <p> + Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to the + neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin had been up + to Mr. + </p> + <p> + Bromwick’s wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. Agamemnon + went to look at it occasionally after dark, and Solomon John made frequent + visits to it mornings, just after sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove Elizabeth + Eliza and her mother that way, and pointed furtively to it with his whip; + but none of them ever spoke of it aloud to each other. It was suspected + that the little boys had been to see it Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. + But they came home with their pockets full of chestnuts, and said nothing + about it. + </p> + <p> + At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into the + Larkin’s barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement was made of it + with Elizabeth Eliza’s yard-measure. To Mr. Peterkin’s great dismay it was + discovered that it was too high to stand in the back parlor. + </p> + <p> + This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, + Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. Peterkin + was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles would drip. + </p> + <p> + But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the ceiling of + the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of the tree. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It must + not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I should have the ceiling lifted all across the + room; the effect would be finer.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, because her + room was over the back parlor, and she would have no floor while the + alteration was going on, which would be very awkward. Besides, her room + was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, perhaps she could + not walk in it upright. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn’t propose altering the whole ceiling, + but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part where the tree was + to stand. + </p> + <p> + This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza’s room; but it + would go across the whole room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the cuddy + thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit against, only here + you would not have the sea-sickness. She thought she should like it, for a + rarity. She might use it for a divan. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the carpet, and + might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the matter secret, + for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; but Mr. Peterkin + proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, for a number of other + jobs. + </p> + <p> + One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same height, + for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting down in a chair + that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, and it had proved to be + two inches lower. The little boys were now large enough to sit in any + chair; so a medium was fixed upon to satisfy all the family, and the + chairs were made uniformly of the same height. + </p> + <p> + On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree could be + cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, and demurred at + so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. Peterkin had set his + mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth Eliza had cut her carpet in + preparation for it. + </p> + <p> + So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for nearly a + fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen plastering, + and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth Eliza’s carpet was taken + up, and the furniture had to be changed, and one night she had to sleep at + the Bromwicks’, for there was a long hole in her floor that might be + dangerous. + </p> + <p> + All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what was + going on. + </p> + <p> + Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know why a + Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still more astonished + at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza’s room. It must be a + Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + </p> + <p> + Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, with + some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of the little + boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and mystery, behind doors, + and under the stairs, and in the corners of the entry. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the tree. He had + been collecting some bayberries, as he understood they made very nice + candles, so that it would not be necessary to buy any. + </p> + <p> + The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor together, and + all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin would go in with + Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth Eliza, or Elizabeth Eliza and + Agamemnon and Solomon John. The little boys and the small cousins were + never allowed even to look inside the room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She wanted to + consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should need, and whether they + could make it at home, as they had cream and ice. She was pretty busy in + her own room; the furniture had to be changed, and the carpet altered. The + “hump” was higher than she expected. There was danger of bumping her own + head whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some padding on the ceiling + for fear of accidents. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and their + father collected in the back parlor for a council. The carpenters had done + their work, and the tree stood at its full height at the back of the room, + the top stretching up into the space arranged for it. All the chips and + shavings were cleared away, and it stood on a neat box. + </p> + <p> + But what were they to put upon the tree? + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they proved to be + very “stringy” and very few of them. It was strange how many bayberries it + took to make a few candles! The little boys had helped him, and he had + gathered as much as a bushel of bayberries. He had put them in water, and + skimmed off the wax, according to the directions; but there was so little + wax! + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off from the + legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should cover them with gilt + paper, to answer for gilt apples, without telling them what they were for. + </p> + <p> + These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they had + for the tree! + </p> + <p> + After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring + anything for it. + </p> + <p> + “I thought of candies and sugar-plums,” she said; “but I concluded if we + made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, then, we have not + made caramels. The fact is, that day my head was full of my carpet. I had + bumped it pretty badly, too.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an apple-tree he + had seen in October, full of red fruit. + </p> + <p> + “But the leaves would have fallen off by this time,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And the apples, too,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to get + the things,” said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. “But I went from shop to + shop, and didn’t know exactly what to get. I saw a great many gilt things + for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys were making the gilt + apples; there were plenty of candles in the shops, but I knew Solomon John + was making the candles.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into town now. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to be a + grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be spared, and Solomon + John was sure he and Agamemnon would not know what to buy. Besides, they + would want to try the candles to-night. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing would not + answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too heavy. + </p> + <p> + A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam from one of + Solomon John’s candles that he had lighted by way of trial. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match to examine + the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of trains coming out at + that hour, but none going in except a very late one. That would not leave + time to do anything and come back. + </p> + <p> + “We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I,” said Solomon John, “but we should + not have time to buy anything.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the uncles and + aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there was time to study up + something about electric lights. If they could only have a calcium light! + Solomon John’s candle sputtered and went out. + </p> + <p> + At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The little + boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and Mrs. Peterkin, + hastened to see what was the matter. + </p> + <p> + The uncles and aunts thought somebody’s house must be on fire. The door + was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for it was beginning + to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza’s purchases, + so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and hastily called + back her guests and the little boys into the other room. The little boys + and the small cousins were sure they had seen Santa Claus himself. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth Eliza. It + was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a hint from + Elizabeth Eliza’s letters that there was to be a Christmas-tree, and had + filled this box with all that would be needed. + </p> + <p> + It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, from + gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining flags and + lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets of + fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at the bottom of the whole, + a large box of candles and a box of Philadelphia bonbons! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from screaming. The + little boys and the small cousins knocked on the folding-doors to ask what + was the matter. + </p> + <p> + Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung them on the + tree, and put on the candles. + </p> + <p> + When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed:—“Let + us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors to-night, + and have the tree on Christmas Eve!” + </p> + <p> + And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day before, + and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MRS. PETERKIN’S TEA-PARTY. + </h2> + <p> + TWAS important to have a tea-party, as they had all been invited by + everybody,—the Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would + be such a good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the + lady from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who would be + sure to make it all go off well. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were too + many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and saucers in the + best set. + </p> + <p> + “There are seven of us, to begin with,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “We need not all drink tea,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I never do,” said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + </p> + <p> + “And we could have coffee, too,” suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “That would take as many cups,” objected Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “We could use the every-day set for the coffee,” answered Elizabeth Eliza; + “they are the right shape. Besides,” she went on, “they would not all + come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; they never go out.” + </p> + <p> + “There are but six cups in the every-day set,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin agreed + with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. Jeffers never went + out. + </p> + <p> + “There are three of the Tremletts,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “they never go + out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to have the headache. + Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the three Gibbons boys, and their + sister Juliana; but the other sisters are out West, and there is but one + Osborne.” + </p> + <p> + It really did seem safe to ask “everybody.” They would be sorry, after it + was over, that they had not asked more. + </p> + <p> + “We have the cow,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “so there will be as much cream and + milk as we shall need.” + </p> + <p> + “And our own pig,” said Agamemnon. “I am glad we had it salted; so we can + have plenty of sandwiches.” + </p> + <p> + “I will buy a chest of tea,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. “I have been thinking + of a chest for some time.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was as well to + buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin determined on a + chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + </p> + <p> + So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy + evening and some would be prevented. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + </p> + <p> + And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. Ann Maria + Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought her over, for the + Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the Tremletts had a niece, and Mary + Osborne an aunt, that they took the liberty to bring. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each set + came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that more were + coming. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, and trying + to calculate how many were to come, and wondering why there were always + more and never less, and whether the cups would go round. + </p> + <p> + The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had their + headaches the day before, and were having that banged feeling you always + have after a headache; so they all sat at the same side of the room on the + long sofa. + </p> + <p> + All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. Old Mr. + Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor door. And + Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, unexpectedly home + from the West. + </p> + <p> + “Got home this morning!” they said. “And so glad to be in time to see + everybody,—a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a + sleeping-car!” + </p> + <p> + “Forty-eight!” repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were + forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and whether all + could sit down. + </p> + <p> + Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be neighborly to + stay away. They insisted on getting into the most uncomfortable seats. + </p> + <p> + Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys preferred to + stand. + </p> + <p> + But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had thought + they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John and the little + boys could help in the waiting. + </p> + <p> + It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived with her + daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, who was a little + deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther behind the parlor door. + Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake hands with the lady from + Philadelphia, saying:—“Four Gibbons girls and Mary Osborne’s aunt,—that + makes nineteen; and now”—It made no difference what she said; for + there was such a murmuring of talk that any words suited. And the lady + from Philadelphia wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + </p> + <p> + It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, and + asked:— + </p> + <p> + “Can’t we go and ask more? Can’t we fetch the Larkins?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, no!” answered Elizabeth Eliza. “I can’t even count them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, to ask + if there were going to be cups enough. + </p> + <p> + “I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count,” said Elizabeth Eliza, + putting her hand to her head. + </p> + <p> + The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + </p> + <p> + “The Maberlys!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. “I never asked them.” + </p> + <p> + “It is your father’s doing,” cried Mrs. Peterkin. “I do believe he asked + everybody he saw!” And she hurried back to her guests. + </p> + <p> + “What if father really has asked everybody?” Elizabeth Eliza said to + herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + </p> + <p> + There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, or + both, the cups could not go round. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + </p> + <p> + He had not been able to count the guests, they moved about so, they talked + so; and it would not look well to appear to count. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “We are not a family for an emergency,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, when + there were more people than cups and saucers?” asked Elizabeth Eliza. + “Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady from Philadelphia is + talking about the Exhibition, and telling how she stayed at home to + receive friends. And they must have had trouble there! Could not you go in + and ask, just as if you wanted to know?” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many talking with the + lady from Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + “If we could only look into some book,” he said,—“the encyclopaedia + or the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!” + </p> + <p> + At this moment he thought of his “Great Triumphs of Great Men,” that he + was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the Stephensons, or + any of the men of modern times. He might skip over to them,—he knew + they were men for emergencies. + </p> + <p> + He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with chairs. + </p> + <p> + “That is a good thought,” said Agamemnon. “I will bring down more upstairs + chairs.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Solomon John; “here are all that can come down; the rest of the + bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will do!” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only he could + invent something on the spur of the moment,—a set of bedroom + furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into parlor chairs! It + seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his table and pencils, when he + was interrupted by the little boys, who came to tell him that Elizabeth + Eliza wanted him. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the tea-table, + with all the things on, should be pushed into the front room, where the + company were; and those could take cups who could find cups. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a table; + it might upset, and break what china they had. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back room. She + called to him:—“Agamemnon, you must bring Mary Osborne to help, and + perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry round some of the cups.” + </p> + <p> + And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, and the + tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + </p> + <p> + The little boys took the sugar and cream. + </p> + <p> + “As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and saucers to be + washed,” she said to the Gibbons boys and the little boys. + </p> + <p> + This was an idea of Mary Osborne’s. + </p> + <p> + But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the more cups + they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, and Mary Osborne the + tea. + </p> + <p> + Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t understand it,” Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. “Do they come + back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are more cups than + there were!” + </p> + <p> + Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be coffee-cups that + matched the set! And they never had had coffee-cups. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + </p> + <p> + “Solomon John!” Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; “I cannot understand the cups!” + </p> + <p> + “It is my doing,” said Solomon John, with an elevated air. “I went to the + lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. ‘What do you do in + Philadelphia, when you haven’t enough cups?’ ‘Borrow of my neighbors,’ she + answered, as quick as she could.” + </p> + <p> + “She must have guessed,” interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “That may be,” said Solomon John. “But I whispered to Ann Maria Bromwick,—she + was standing by,—and she took me straight over into their closet, + and old Mr. Bromwick bought this set just where we bought ours. And they + had a coffee-set, too”—“You mean where our father and mother bought + them. We were not born,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “It is all the same,” said Solomon John. “They match exactly.” + </p> + <p> + So they did, and more and more came in. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!” + </p> + <p> + “Ann Maria was very good about it,” said Solomon John; “and quick, too. + And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two dozen coffee and tea + cups!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told the + Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the little boys. She + almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her hand. + </p> + <p> + “No trouble now!” + </p> + <p> + She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured on. + </p> + <p> + No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all seemed + to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was standing, talking + to Mr. + </p> + <p> + Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were handing + things around. + </p> + <p> + The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls on the + edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a soft, warm + evening, and some of the young people were on the piazza. Everybody was + talking and laughing, except those who were listening. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for more + coffee. + </p> + <p> + “It’s a great success, Elizabeth Eliza,” he whispered. “The coffee is + admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should not mind + having a tea-party every week.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going off + well. + </p> + <p> + There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over another + such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. + </h2> + <p> + Dramatis Personæ.—Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda’s + mother, girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. + AMANDA [coming in with a few graduates ]. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole class home to + the collation. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and Sophie + with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time for + the collation. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER [to herself ].—If the ice-cream will go round. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? This is + Elizabeth Eliza, girls—you have heard me speak of her. What a pity + you were too late! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We tried to come; we did our best. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Did you miss the train? Didn’t you get my postal-card? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We had nothing to do with the train. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—You don’t mean you walked? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—O no, indeed! + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—We came in a horse and carryall. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall part. + But didn’t you start in time? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—It all comes from the carryall being so hard to turn. + I told Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that don’t + turn easy. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—They turn easy enough in the stable, so you can’t + tell. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes; we started with the little boys and Solomon John + on the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. She was to drive, and + I was to see to the driving. But the horse was not faced toward Boston. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an accident! + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—And the little boys—where are they? Are they killed? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—The little boys are all safe. We left them at the + Pringles’, with Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—But what did happen? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—We started the wrong way. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—You lost your way, after all? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—No; we knew the way well enough. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—It’s as plain as a pikestaff! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—No; we had the horse faced in the wrong direction,—toward + Providence. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—And mother was afraid to have me turn, and we kept + on and on till we should reach a wide place. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I thought we should come to a road that would veer + off to the right or left, and bring us back to the right direction. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Why, no; if it had broken down we should not have + been in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay in the + carriage, whatever happens. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—But nothing seemed to happen. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—O yes; we met one man after another, and we asked the + way to Boston. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—And all they would say was, “Turn right round—you + are on the road to Providence.” + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—As if we could turn right round! That was just what + we couldn’t. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—You don’t mean you kept on all the way to Providence? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met a man + with a black hand-bag—black leather I should say. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—He must have been a book-agent. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He set it on + a stone. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—I dare say it was the same one that came here the other day. + He wanted me to buy the “History of the Aborigines, Brought up from + Earliest Times to the Present Date,” in four volumes. I told him I hadn’t + time to read so much. He said that was no matter, few did, and it wasn’t + much worth it—they bought books for the look of the thing. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Now, that was illiterate; he never could have graduated. I + hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that man. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—Very likely it was not the same one. + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of the + buttons worn? + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I noticed one of the buttons was off. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—We’re off the subject. Did you buy his book? + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—He never offered us his book. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—He told us the same story,—we were going to + Providence; if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I told him I couldn’t; but he took the horse’s + head, and the first thing I knew—AMANDA.—He had yanked you + round! + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—I screamed; I couldn’t help it! + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I was glad when it was over! + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was + headed right; but we lost time. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and seeing + you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma myself. I came near + it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I think + there was partiality about the promotions. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I never was good about remembering things. I + studied well enough, but, when I came to say off my lesson, I couldn’t think + what it was. Yet I could have answered some of the other girls’ questions. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—It’s odd how the other girls always have the easiest + questions. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I never could remember poetry There was only one + thing I could repeat. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Oh, do let us have it now; and then we’ll recite to you some + of our exhibition pieces. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I’ll try. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help + entertain Amanda’s friends. + </p> + <p> + [All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and thoughtful. + ] ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I’m trying to think what it is about. You all + know it. You remember, Amanda,—the name is rather long. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—It can’t be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?—that is one of the + longest names I know. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O dear, no! + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—Perhaps it’s Cleopatra. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It does begin with a “C”—only he was a boy. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—That’s a pity, for it might be “We are seven,” only that is + a girl. Some of them were boys. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It begins about a boy—if I could only think + where he was. I can’t remember. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Perhaps he “stood upon the burning deck?” + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—That’s just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Casablanca! Now begin—go ahead. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—“The boy stood on the burning deck, When—When—” + I can’t think who stood there with him. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—If the deck was burning, it must have been on fire. I guess + the rest ran away, or jumped into boats. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—That’s just it:—“Whence all but him had fled.” + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I think I can say it now. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled—-” + </pre> + <p> + [She hesitates. ] Then I think he went— + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—Of course, he fled after the rest. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—Dear, no! That’s the point. He didn’t. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + </pre> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—O yes. Now I can say it. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The boy stood on the burning deck, + Whence all but him had fled; + The flames rolled on, he would not go + Without his father’s word.” + </pre> + <p> + But it used to rhyme. I don’t know what has happened to it. + </p> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN.—Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the rhymes. + </p> + <p> + ELIZABETH ELIZA.—It must be “without his father’s head,” or, + perhaps, “without his father said” he should. + </p> + <p> + JULIA.—I think you must have omitted something. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—She has left out ever so much! + </p> + <p> + MOTHER.—Perhaps it’s as well to omit some, for the ice-cream has + come, and you must all come down. + </p> + <p> + AMANDA.—And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite in + a song! + </p> + <p> + [Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. + </h2> + <p> + THE day began early. A compact had been made with the little boys the + evening before. + </p> + <p> + They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the blowing of + horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them for precisely five + minutes only, and no sound of the horns should be heard afterward till the + family were downstairs. + </p> + <p> + It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though + crowded, period of noise. + </p> + <p> + The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three o’clock, a + terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: “I am thankful + the lady from Philadelphia is not here!” For she had been invited to stay + a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth of July, as she was not + well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + </p> + <p> + And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as though every + cow in the place had arisen and was blowing through both her own horns! + </p> + <p> + “How many little boys are there? How many have we?” exclaimed Mr. + Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, thinking he + would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep jumping over a fence, to + put himself to sleep. Alas! + </p> + <p> + the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + </p> + <p> + And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth Eliza was to + take out her watch and give the signal for the end of the five minutes, + and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the signal come? Why did not + Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + </p> + <p> + And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be seen! + </p> + <p> + “We will not try this plan again,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “If we live to another Fourth,” added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the door + to inquire into the state of affairs. + </p> + <p> + Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour too early. + And by another mistake the little boys had invited three or four of their + friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin had given them + permission to have the boys for the whole day, and they understood the day + as beginning when they went to bed the night before. This accounted for + the number of horns. + </p> + <p> + It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the five + minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there remained only the + noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained perhaps by a possible + pillow-fight, that kept the family below partially awake until the bells + and cannon made known the dawning of the glorious day,—the sunrise, + or “the rising of the sons,” as Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their + friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + </p> + <p> + They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the + suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to hang some + flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little boys knew of a + place in the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging for + “flag-root,” and where they might find plenty of flag flowers. They did + bring away all they could, but they were a little out of bloom. The boys + were in the midst of nailing up all they had on the pillars of the piazza + when the procession of the Antiques and Horribles passed along. As the + procession saw the festive arrangements on the piazza, and the crowd of + boys, who cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house with some + especial strains of greeting. + </p> + <p> + Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a few moments + of quiet, during the boys’ absence from the house on their visit to the + swamp, she had been trying to find out whether she had a sick-headache, or + whether it was all the noise, and she was just deciding it was the sick + headache, but was falling into a light slumber, when the fresh noise + outside began. + </p> + <p> + There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of donkeys, + and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the cheers of the boys. + Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques and Horribles had Chinese + crackers also. + </p> + <p> + And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had never + allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She was even afraid of + torpedoes; they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some the + children would swallow them, and explode before anybody knew it. + </p> + <p> + She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even about + pea-nuts. + </p> + <p> + Everybody exclaimed over this: “Surely there was no danger in pea-nuts!” + But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much alarmed at the + Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners of the streets in + Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had machines to roast the + pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They might go off any time, in + the midst of a crowd of people, too! + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should be sorry + to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American institution, something + really belonging to the Fourth of July. He even confessed to a quiet + pleasure in crushing the empty shells with his feet on the sidewalks as he + went along the streets. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + </p> + <p> + In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real + celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had consented to + give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the family as a + Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for a terrible noise,—only + she did not want any gunpowder brought into the house. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days beforehand, + that their mother might be used to the sound, and had selected their horns + some weeks before. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As Mrs. + Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out from the + dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder are,—saltpetre, + charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they had in the + wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in the beef barrel; + and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary’s. He explained to his mother + that these materials had never yet exploded in the house, and she was + quieted. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read somewhere for making + a “fulminating paste” of iron-filings and powder of brimstone. He had + written it down on a piece of paper in his pocket-book. But the iron + filings must be finely powdered. This they began upon a day or two before, + and the very afternoon before laid out some of the paste on the piazza. + </p> + <p> + Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the evening. + </p> + <p> + According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and Solomon John, the + reading of the Declaration of Independence was to take place in the + morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + </p> + <p> + The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + </p> + <p> + “That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant,” explained Elizabeth + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “She said the flags of our country,” said the little boys. “We thought she + meant ‘in the country.’” + </p> + <p> + Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of the + Declaration of Independence. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add as + much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as they + began:—“When, in the course of—when, in the course of—when, + in the course of human—when in the course of human events—when, + in the course of human events, it becomes—when, in the course of + human events, it becomes necessary—when, in the course of human + events it becomes necessary for one people”—They could not get any + farther. Some of the party decided that “one people” was a good place to + stop, and the little boys sent off some fresh torpedoes in honor of the + people. But Mr. Peterkin was not satisfied. He invited the assembled party + to stay until sunset, and meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes + were to be saved to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + </p> + <p> + And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have some cold + beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and everybody + ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a dinner. But + when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it to soak, on + account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks! + </p> + <p> + Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought tamarinds + and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when the Antiques + and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts and lemonade. + </p> + <p> + They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, they + frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the red poppies + were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the alley-ways in the + garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day in the buzzing of insects, + in the steaming heat that came up from the ground. Some neighboring boys + were firing a toy cannon. Every time it went off Mrs. Peterkin started, + and looked to see if one of the little boys was gone. Mr. Peterkin had set + out to find a copy of the “Declaration.” Agamemnon had disappeared. She + had not a moment to decide about her headache. + </p> + <p> + She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, and if + rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were never sure where + they came down. + </p> + <p> + And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed toward + them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They were out for a + practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of the + guests. + </p> + <p> + There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they would better + go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. Peterkin hastened into + the house to save herself, or see what she could save. Elizabeth Eliza + followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers and tongs she + could find, because they could be thrown out of the window without + breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses out of the + window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on fire, and had + carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. There was nothing + like being prepared. She had always determined to do the reverse. So with + calmness she told Solomon John to take down the looking-glasses. But she + met with a difficulty,—there were no pokers and tongs, as they did + not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin had been afraid of + them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and kettles up to the upper + windows, ready to be thrown out. + </p> + <p> + But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the attic + in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the most + unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags of old + pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, she + said, unless she did. Alas! this was the result of fireworks on Fourth of + July! As they came downstairs they heard the voices of all the company + declaring there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long before Mrs. + Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company was only out for + show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought it already too much + celebrated. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza’s kettles and pans had come down through the windows with + a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the little boys thought. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a copy of + the Declaration of Independence. The public library was shut, and he had + to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset bells and cannon began, + he returned with a copy, and read it, to the pealing of the bells and + sounding of the cannon. + </p> + <p> + Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some sweet-marjoram + pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were lighted, went off with + great explosions. + </p> + <p> + At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, Agamemnon, + with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John aside. + </p> + <p> + “I have suddenly remembered where I read about the ‘fulminating paste’ we + made. It was in the preface to ‘Woodstock,’ and I have been round to + borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was afraid + about the ‘paste’ going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell me, Where is the + fulminating paste?” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little parcel. + It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A friend had told him + of the composition. The more thicknesses of paper you put round it the + louder it would go off. You must pound it with a hammer. Solomon John felt + it must be perfectly safe, as his mother had taken potash for a medicine. + </p> + <p> + He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon’s book: “This paste, + when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of itself take + fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame and a bad smell.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the paste?” repeated Solomon John, in terror. + </p> + <p> + “We made it just twenty-six hours ago,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “We put it on the piazza,” exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly recalling the + facts, “and it is in front of our mother’s feet!” + </p> + <p> + He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, flinging + aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon the piazza at the + same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which exploded at once with the + shock, and he fell to the ground, while at the same moment the paste + “fulminated” into a blue flame directly in front of Mrs. Peterkin! + </p> + <p> + It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. The + bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin had just + reached the closing words: “Our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred + honor.” + </p> + <p> + “We are all blown up, as I feared we should be,” Mrs. Peterkin at length + ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side of the + piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the scattered limbs + about her. + </p> + <p> + It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the + piazza, with closed eyes. + </p> + <p> + At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, “Is anybody killed?” + </p> + <p> + There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody was + killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great while + before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move. + </p> + <p> + But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of + Solomon John’s fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had his + face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza’s muslin + dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt; no one had lost any + limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was sure she had seen some flying in the air. + Nobody could understand how, as she had kept her eyes firmly shut. + </p> + <p> + No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of Solomon + John’s nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible odor from the + “fulminating paste.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew how she got + there. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused the + neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions came on every + side, and, though the sunset light had not faded away, the little boys + hastened to send off rockets under cover of the confusion. Solomon John’s + other fireworks would not go. But all felt he had done enough. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have a + headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, to see if + it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the adventures of the + day, and almost thought it could not have been worse if the boys had been + allowed gunpowder. The distracted lady was thankful there was likely to be + but one Centennial Fourth in her lifetime, and declared she should never + more keep anything in the house as dangerous as saltpetred beef, and she + should never venture to take another spoonful of potash. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ PICNIC. + </h2> + <p> + THERE was some doubt about the weather. Solomon John looked at the + “Probabilities;” there were to be “areas” of rain in the New England + States. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of rain were to + be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed walking round the + house in a procession, to examine the sky. As they returned they met Ann + Maria Bromwick, who was to go, much surprised not to find them ready. + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the lady + from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to follow in a wagon, + and to stop for the daughters of the lady from Philadelphia. The wagon + arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall. + </p> + <p> + A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where anybody + could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as soon as it was + thought of. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; somebody was always + complaining of being too hot or too cold at a picnic, and it would be a + great convenience to see if she really were so. He thought now he might + take a barometer, as “Probabilities” was so uncertain. Then, if it went + down in a threatening way, they could all come back. + </p> + <p> + The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never tried + them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. Solomon John had put + in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a book of poetry. Mr. Peterkin did + not like sitting on the ground, and proposed taking two chairs, one for + himself and one for anybody else. The little boys were perfectly happy; + they jumped in and out of the wagon a dozen times, with new india-rubber + boots, bought for the occasion. + </p> + <p> + Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already had + enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying to remember + things. So many mistakes were made. The things that were to go in the + wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in the carryall had to be + taken out for the wagon! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her veil, + and Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she + must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could not she think + of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any day to think what to + have for dinner, but how much easier now it would be to stay at home + quietly and order the dinner,—and there was the butcher’s cart! But + now they must think of everything. + </p> + <p> + At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to drive. + </p> + <p> + Twice they started, and twice they found something was left behind,—the + loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a basket of sandwiches + on the front porch. And just as the wagon was leaving, the little boys + shrieked, “The basket of things was left behind!” + </p> + <p> + Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the house, to see + if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; he shut the front + door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into the wagon himself. It + started off and went down the street without him! + </p> + <p> + He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why had they + not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel of the wagon, so + that he might have sent a message in such a case!), when the Bromwicks + drove out of their yard in their buggy, and took him in. + </p> + <p> + They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they were all + to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin called to + Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been holding the barometer and + the thermometer, and they waggled so that it troubled her. It was hard + keeping the thermometer out of the sun, which would make it so warm. It + really took away her pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon decided to + get into the carryall, on the seat with his father, and take the barometer + and thermometer. + </p> + <p> + The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or Lonetown + Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, but maybe the drive + to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + </p> + <p> + Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the picnic was + got up for her. + </p> + <p> + But where was she? + </p> + <p> + “I declare,” said Mr. Peterkin, “I forgot to stop for her!” The whole + picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + </p> + <p> + It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner as they + passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, and Mrs. + Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers that she had not + noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten something! She + did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short turn, and it was getting + late, and what would the lady from Philadelphia think of it, and had they + not better give it all up? + </p> + <p> + But everybody said “No!” and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a wide turn + round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took up the lady from + Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind and took up their daughters, + for there was a driver in the wagon besides Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might as well + stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question was put again, + Where should they go? + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nook—it sounded + inviting. + </p> + <p> + There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, but there + was a good place to tie the horses. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know what the + lady from Philadelphia would think of their having forgotten her, and the + more she tried to explain it, the worse it seemed to make it. She supposed + they never did such things in Philadelphia; she knew they had invited all + the world to a party, but she was sure she would never want to invite + anybody again. There was no fun about it till it was all over. Such a + mistake—to have a party for a person, and then go without her; but + she knew they would forget something! She wished they had not called it + their picnic. + </p> + <p> + There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. “Was anything broke?” + exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. “Was something forgotten?” asked the lady from + Philadelphia. + </p> + <p> + No! But Mr. Peterkin didn’t know the way; and here he was leading all the + party, and a long row of carriages following. + </p> + <p> + They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, unless + it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They were made to drive up, + and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different direction, but they + could bring the party round to it through the meadows. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a + pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry Nook, + and had better keep on, So they kept on. It proved to be an excellent + place, where they could tie the horses to a fence. Mrs. Peterkin did not + like their all heading different ways; it seemed as if any of them might + come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the little boys had + their kites flapping round. The Tremletts insisted upon the whole party + going up the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons boys, and the + little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all the party had to + carry everything up to the rocks. The large basket of “things” was very + heavy. + </p> + <p> + It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to take + it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and old Mr. + Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + </p> + <p> + And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. The + other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the + carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And the table-cloth was + spread,—for they did bring a table-cloth,—and the baskets were + opened, and the picnic really began. + </p> + <p> + The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been + forgotten, and the Tremletts’ basket had been left on their front + door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, and everything + they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were perfectly happy, and ate + of all the kinds of cake. Two of the Tremletts would stand while they were + eating, because they were afraid of the ants and the spiders that seemed + to be crawling round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to keep poking with a fern + leaf to drive the insects out of the plates. The lady from Philadelphia + was made comfortable with the cushions and shawls, leaning against a rock. + Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she had been forgotten. + </p> + <p> + John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: “Why is a + pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? Because one is a + grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her + friends in Boston had told her. It was, “Why is—” It began, “Why is + something like—no, Why are they different?” It was something about + an old woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very + funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was alike + or different. + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth + Eliza’s conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one of + the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just + discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to rain + down directly. + </p> + <p> + Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + </p> + <p> + There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it appeared + that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had gone back + for it twice. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put + the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the + hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + </p> + <p> + There was a great cry for the “emergency basket,” that had not been opened + yet. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into it + what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. Everybody + stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered with newspapers. + First came out a backgammon-board. “That would be useful,” said Ann Maria, + “if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody’s barn.” Next, a pair of + andirons. “What were they for?” “In case of needing a fire in the woods,” + explained Solomon John. Then came a volume of the Encyclopædia. But it was + the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and contained only A and a part + of B, and nothing about rain or showers. Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in + by the little boys, and Elizabeth Eliza’s book of poetry, and a change of + boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small foot-rug in case the ground should be + damp; some paint-boxes of the little boys’; a box of fish-hooks for + Solomon John; an ink-bottle, carefully done up in a great deal of + newspaper, which was fortunate, as the ink was oozing out; some old + magazines, and a blacking-bottle; and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was + all very entertaining, and there seemed to be something for every occasion + but the present. Old Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy. + It was all so interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the + carriages. + </p> + <p> + The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on setting + up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and they might + as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon John and Ann Maria had + arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their watches, so + that they might see if it was right. And then came a great exclamation at + the hour: “It was time they were all going home!” + </p> + <p> + The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she + felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they + had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes to + consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time to + fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away. But it + had been a delightful picnic, after all. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS’ CHARADES. + </h2> + <p> + EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have “something” + at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to get + up a “great Exposition,” to show to the people of the place. But Mr. + Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for + “exhibits,” and it was given up. + </p> + <p> + There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common, and the + ladies of the place thought it ought to be something handsome,—something + more than a common trough,—and they ought to work for it. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, and she + felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, but she + would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written to the + lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, if they had + asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble. + </p> + <p> + Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what they + wanted? + </p> + <p> + It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask about. + And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but you could not + always put them together. There was this idea of the water-trough, and + then this idea of getting some money for it. So she began with writing to + the lady from Philadelphia. The little boys believed she spent enough for + it in postage-stamps before it all came out. + </p> + <p> + But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have some charades + at their own house for the benefit of the needed water-trough,—tickets + sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwick was to help act, because + she could bring some old bonnets and gowns that had been worn by an aged + aunt years ago, and which they had always kept. Elizabeth Eliza said that + Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they must borrow all the red + things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She knew people would be willing + to lend things. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, they + were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it too + odd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything to + frighten her mother. + </p> + <p> + She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her letters,—the + one that had “Turk” in it,—but they ought to have two words “Oh, + yes,” Ann Maria said, “you must have two words; if the people paid for + their tickets they would want to get their money’s worth.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought you might have “Hindoos”; the little boys could color + their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the first scene an + Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for “dues,” and + then have the little boys for Hindoos. + </p> + <p> + A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit. There + was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doors stuck when + you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that the Pan-Elocutionists + had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne, and so it was decided + to ask John Osborne to help. + </p> + <p> + If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said he was + sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make a stage + if John Osborne would help put it up. + </p> + <p> + All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann + Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and they + spent the evening in trying on the various things,—such odd caps and + remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of + bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off + well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys + brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with costumes. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what they + were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she had,—it + would all come of use. + </p> + <p> + The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon + and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped + zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There + was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and such + a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came in the + little boys, shouting, “All the tickets are sold, at ten cents each!” + </p> + <p> + “Seventy tickets sold!” exclaimed Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Seven dollars for the water-trough!” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And we do not know yet what we are going to act!” exclaimed Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + But everybody’s attention had to be given to the scene that was going up + in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was + magnificent, and represented a forest. + </p> + <p> + “Where are we going to put seventy people?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, + venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter. + </p> + <p> + The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted of + boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and sweeping + and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made ready! It was + late, and some of the people had already come to secure good seats, even + before the actors had assembled. + </p> + <p> + “What are we going to act?” asked Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I have been so torn with one thing and another,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “I + haven’t had time to think!” + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you the word yet?” asked John Osborne, for the audience was + flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + </p> + <p> + “I have got one word in my pocket,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “in the letter + from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. + Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don’t yet understand the whole of the + word.” + </p> + <p> + “You don’t know the word, and the people are all here!” said John Osborne, + impatiently. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza!” exclaimed Ann Maria, “Solomon John says I’m to be a + Turkish slave, and I’ll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils + are? You know I brought them over last night.” + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere + scarf!” exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + </p> + <p> + “Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!” cried + another of the boys. + </p> + <p> + And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other side + of the thin curtain. + </p> + <p> + “You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sit + where you can hear.” + </p> + <p> + “And let Julia Fitch come where she can see,” said another voice. + </p> + <p> + “And we have not any words for them to hear or see!” exclaimed John + Osborne, behind the curtain. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish we’d never determined to have charades! exclaimed Elizabeth + Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “Can’t we return the money?” + </p> + <p> + “They are all here; we must give them something!” said John Osborne, + heroically. + </p> + <p> + “And Solomon John is almost dressed,” reported Ann Maria, winding a veil + around her head. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t we take Solomon John’s word ‘Hindoos’ for the first?” said + Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the “hin,” or anything, + and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a + feather duster. + </p> + <p> + The bell rang, and the first scene began. + </p> + <p> + It was a great success. John Osborne’s Irish was perfect. Nobody guessed + the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, and + made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as an old + woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the audience, + speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who appeared in a + more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly back, saying she + had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the effect intended, + and it was loudly cheered. + </p> + <p> + Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of their + friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano till the + scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done up in blankets + and turbans. + </p> + <p> + “I am thankful that is over,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for now we can act my + word. Only I don’t myself know the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind, let us act it,” said John Osborne, “and the audience can + guess the whole.” + </p> + <p> + “The first syllable must be the letter P,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “and we + must have a school.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on as + scholars. + </p> + <p> + All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school by + flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll guess that to be ‘row,’” said John Osborne in despair; “they’ll + never guess ‘P’!” + </p> + <p> + The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John + Osborne’s army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all the + family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him, + veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes. + </p> + <p> + This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth Eliza + was sure she did not know what to do,—whether to kneel or sit down; + she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could not + help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however, kept his + solemnity. “I suppose I need not say much,” he had said, “for I shall be + the ‘Turk who was dreaming of the hour.’” But he did order the little boys + to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice insisted they must + have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and the scene closed. + </p> + <p> + “What are we to do now?” asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion. + </p> + <p> + “We must have an ‘inn’ scene,” said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her + letter; “two inns, if we can.” + </p> + <p> + “We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going to + another,” said John Osborne. + </p> + <p> + “Now is the time for the bandboxes,” said Solomon John, who, since his + Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the charade. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw + Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns. The + little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes. Bandbox + after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the applause + was immense. At last the curtain fell. + </p> + <p> + “Now for the whole,” said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage + over a heap of umbrellas. + </p> + <p> + “I can’t think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the whole,” + said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + </p> + <p> + “Listen, they are guessing,” said John Osborne. “‘D-ice-box.’ I don’t + wonder they get it wrong.” + </p> + <p> + “But we know it can’t be that!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony. “How + can we act the whole if we don’t know it ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see it!” said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. “Get your whole family + in for the last scene.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the + background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon John, + leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance, and in + front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in their india-rubber + boots. + </p> + <p> + The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, “The Peterkins!” + “P-Turk-Inns!” + </p> + <p> + It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole. + </p> + <p> + “What a tableau!” exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; “the Peterkin family guessing + their own charade.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. + </h2> + <p> + AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was + called a “semi-detached” house, when there was no other “semi” to it. It + had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built the + other half. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the + terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully + satisfied with the one they were in. + </p> + <p> + But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new railroad + had to be carried directly through the place, and a station was to be + built on that very spot. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether they + could not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give up the + lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant, and it + would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be no danger of + missing the train, if one were sure of the direction. + </p> + <p> + But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and the + steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under the + dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what the + family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move. + </p> + <p> + But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that satisfied + the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a tan-pit; another + was too much in the middle of the town, next door to a machine-shop. + Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, that should face the + sunset; while Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towards + the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), for the + sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house with a great + many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr. Peterkin did + not like so much slamming, and felt there was more danger of burglars with + so many doors. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop. + If he could have carpenters’ tools and a workbench he could build an + observatory, if it were wanted. + </p> + <p> + But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leave their + house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch’s, at the Corners. + It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, and was opposite + a barn. There were three other doors,—too many to please Mr. + Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was no observatory, + and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house was too low and + some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had hoped for a view; + but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more healthy to have to + walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they might get tired of the + same every day. + </p> + <p> + And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carried + their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent the + evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everything + beforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her mother + dreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkin + shook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort. + Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme would make + it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, which could be + put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlor furniture could + be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms, in which Mr. and + Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the move went on. Then the old + parlor carpets could be taken up for the new dining-room and the + downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhile dine at the old house. + Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the distance was considerable, + as he felt exercise would be good for them all. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza’s programme then arranged that the dining-room furniture + should be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlor carpets + would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleep in the + old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable place in one + house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, he would find + some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day there should be moved + only the furniture needed for a certain room. Great confusion would be + avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote these last words at + the head of her programme,—“Misplace nothing.” + </p> + <p> + And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of the family. + </p> + <p> + THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.—Page 126. The first thing to be done was to + buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at some in + Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with her father, + Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them. + </p> + <p> + They got home about eleven o’clock, and when they reached the house were + dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, already partly + filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, a large + book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meet them in + an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture carts had appeared + soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the men had insisted upon + beginning to move the things. In vain had she shown Elizabeth Eliza’s + programme; in vain had she insisted they must take only the parlor + furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy pieces in the bottom + of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So she had seen them go + into every room in the house, and select one piece of furniture after + another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza’s programme; she doubted + if they could have read it if they had looked at it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea they + would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fill + the carts. + </p> + <p> + But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,—a heavy piece of + furniture,—and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables. + Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every book + on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books in + the bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from the + shelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters as + natural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought all to + be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon’s + Encyclopædia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting it with + the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four men were + bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father’s room, and they + called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene of + confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore them to + the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay in + hopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in + despair upon the end of a sofa. + </p> + <p> + “It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet,” said Solomon + John. + </p> + <p> + “Is not the carpet bought?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they were + obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had come + back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “What shall we do?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, “I shall + be back in a moment.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumes + of his Encyclopædia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a man lifting + a wardrobe. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. “I did not like to go and ask her. But I + felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the whole + matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan’s.” + </p> + <p> + “Makillan’s” was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only one + all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed they + might prefer one from Boston. + </p> + <p> + The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to + Makillan’s to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But where + should they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr. + Peterkin’s “quiet hour”? + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were covered + with things. + </p> + <p> + It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks, + who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should get + something to eat at the baker’s. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to receive the + carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. After + all there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house, and + in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza stepped down the + front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to the door. But + it was locked, and she had no keys! + </p> + <p> + “Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + No, he had not seen them since the morning,—when—ah!—yes, + the little boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber + boots, as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some door + unfastened—perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, + each door, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat! + </p> + <p> + “I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with them,” + said Agamemnon; “or else go home to see if they left them there.” The + school was in a different direction from the house, and far at the other + end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys’ school, as + he proposed to do after their move. + </p> + <p> + “That will be the only way,” said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been + arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and not + come home at noon. + </p> + <p> + She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the carts + soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with the furniture? + Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she should need them to + set the furniture up in the right places. But they could not stop for + this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, in the garden, and + Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There was something from every + room in the house! Even the large family chest, which had proved too heavy + for them to travel with had come down from the attic, and stood against + the front door. + </p> + <p> + And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with a + wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Some + opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and Elizabeth + Eliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furniture appeared + to be standing full in view. + </p> + <p> + It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had been + to the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one of the + little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes. + Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrow + had waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept and + cleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there + would not be time enough to do anything. + </p> + <p> + And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the + furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a little place + in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and go home to + sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringing the + bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs. + </p> + <p> + In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had been + there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agony + about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how could it + be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainly could + not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left till the house + was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of one side. But + Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was to be moved without + being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips narrow enough to go + out. One of the men loading the remaining cart disposed of the question by + coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and carrying it on on top of his + wagon. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But what should + they do?—no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room table and + sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, and spoons here. + In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed; everything was + misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eat here and sleep + here, and what had become of the little boys? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packing + the dining-room china. + </p> + <p> + They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one + suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they should want + to take them next. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!” she + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkin + would be there for his “quiet hour.” And when the carters at last + appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed and + said, “There is nothing left,” and meekly consented to be led away. + </p> + <p> + They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in a + rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the opposite + barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken back with + him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side of the + house. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, the + floors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to stand + in a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,—there was + nothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had not come, + and although the tables were there they were covered with chairs and + boxes. + </p> + <p> + At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. It + contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same moment + appeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed all this + on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon John + came rushing in from the gate. + </p> + <p> + “The last load is coming! We are all moved!” he exclaimed; and the little + boys joined in a chorus, “We are moved! we are moved!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on the + parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza’s hat-box. The + parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed on the + parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and the + looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they were + moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. + </h2> + <p> + CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The Peterkins had moved + into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where they would + have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of course they + would then have more time. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a long + time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when + she wanted to play on her piano. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. The + upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of the + door to the closet under the stairs. But the under table-cloth was kept in + a drawer in the closet. So, whenever the cloths were changed, the trunk + had to be pushed away under some projecting shelves to make room for + opening the closet-door (as the under table-cloth must be taken out + first), then the trunk was pushed back to make room for it to be opened + for the upper table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to push the + trunk away again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. This always + consumed a great deal of time. + </p> + <p> + Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find a place + in it. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house there was + no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept upstairs, which was + very inconvenient, and the volumes of the Encyclopædia could not be + together. There was not room for all in one place. So from A to P were to + be found downstairs, and from Q to Z were scattered in different rooms + upstairs. And the worst of it was, you could never remember whether from A + to P included P. “I always went upstairs after P,” said Agamemnon, “and + then always found it downstairs, or else it was the other way.” + </p> + <p> + Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the books all + in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking for them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. If they + went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. Elizabeth Eliza could + talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, German with the Germans; + Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish in Spain; + and perhaps he could himself master all the Eastern Languages and Russian. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all the + family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth Eliza + dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more willing. + </p> + <p> + Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always said she + would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, and she was sure + it did not look like it now. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something new every day, + and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a telephone, for they + had bridges in the very earliest days. + </p> + <p> + Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could be found + in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three could be brought out + in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for them, and could learn a little + on the way out and in. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. He was told + that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed they should all begin + with Sanscrit. They would thus require but one teacher, and could branch + out into the other languages afterward. + </p> + <p> + But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth Eliza + already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk it, without + much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of the side-stands. But + she found she had been talking with a Moorish gentleman who did not + understand French. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers came + at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they would be using + different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought something might be + learned by having them all at once. Each one might pick up something + beside the language he was studying, and it was a great thing to learn to + talk a foreign language while others were talking about you. Mrs. Peterkin + was afraid it would be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it was all + right. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they ought to have + foreign teachers, who spoke only their native languages. But, in this + case, how could they engage them to come, or explain to them about the + carryall, or arrange the proposed hours? He did not understand how anybody + ever began with a foreigner, because he could not even tell him what he + wanted. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and pantomime. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be done. + Elizabeth Eliza explained how “langues” meant both “languages” and + “tongues,” and they could point to their tongues. For practice, the little + boys represented the foreign teachers talking in their different + languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon John went to invite them to come out, + and teach the family by a series of signs. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they might + almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and trust to + explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not yet made, it + might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they were + invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to his mouth as + he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and it looked a great + deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than asking them to teach. + Agamemnon suggested that they might carry the separate dictionaries when + they went to see the teachers, and that would show that they meant + lessons, and not lunch. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for them, if + they had come all that way; but she certainly did not know what they were + accustomed to eat. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the + foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and they + might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys were + delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. Agamemnon had heard + that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the Germans, and he would inquire + how it was made in the first lesson. Solomon John had heard they were all + very fond of garlic, and thought it would be a pretty attention to have + some in the house the first day, that they might be cheered by the odor. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by her + knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons before the + Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + </p> + <p> + There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to obtain + teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He did not want to + be tempted to talk any English with them. He wanted the latest and + freshest languages, and at last came home one day with a list of + “brand-new foreigners.” + </p> + <p> + They decided to borrow the Bromwicks’ carryall to use, beside their own, + for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon drove into town to bring + all the teachers out. One was a Russian gentleman, travelling, who came + with no idea of giving lessons, but perhaps he would consent to do so. He + could not yet speak English. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several gentlemen who + had recommended the different teachers, and he went with Agamemnon from + hotel to hotel collecting them. He found them all very polite, and ready + to come, after the explanation by signs agreed upon. The dictionaries had + been forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which looked the same, and + seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian instead of + one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new teacher of that language + lately arrived. + </p> + <p> + But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian gentleman + into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for he was a Turk, + sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! They glared at each + other, and began to assail each other in every language they knew, none of + which Mr. Peterkin could understand. It might be Russian, it might be + Arabic. It was easy to understand that they would never consent to sit in + the same carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten about the + Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + </p> + <p> + Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But the + French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to go with him + in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For the German + professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As soon as the French + gentleman put his foot on the step and saw him, he addressed him in such + forcible language that the German professor got out of the door the other + side, and came round on the sidewalk, and took him by the collar. + Certainly the German and French gentlemen could not be put together, and + more crowd collected! + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word “Herr,” and he + applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to take a seat in the + other carryall. The German consented to sit by the Turk, as they neither + of them could understand the other; and at last they started, Mr. Peterkin + with the Italian by his side, and the French and Russian teachers behind, + vociferating to each other in languages unknown to Mr. Peterkin, while he + feared they were not perfectly in harmony, so he drove home as fast as + possible. Agamemnon had a silent party. The Spaniard by his side was a + little moody, while the Turk and the German behind did not utter a word. + </p> + <p> + At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin and + Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over her + shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin was careful + to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant part of the + library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting the Frenchman and + Russian apart. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by his + Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the German. The little + boys took their copy of the “Arabian Nights” to the Turk. Mr. Peterkin + attempted to explain to the Russian that he had no Russian dictionary, as + he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of him, while Mrs. Peterkin was trying to + inform her teacher that she had no books in Spanish. She got over all + fears of the Inquisition, he looked so sad, and she tried to talk a + little, using English words, but very slowly, and altering the accent as + far as she knew how. The Spaniard bowed, looked gravely interested, and + was very polite. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with the + Parisian. + </p> + <p> + She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But he + understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her vocabularies, + and went on with—“J’ai le livre.” “As-tu le pain?” “L’enfant a une + poire.” He listened with great attention, and replied slowly. Suddenly she + started after making out one of his sentences, and went to her mother to + whisper, “They have made the mistake you feared. They think they are + invited to lunch! He has just been thanking me for our politeness in + inviting them to déjeûner,—that means breakfast!” + </p> + <p> + “They have not had their breakfast!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, looking at + her Spaniard; “he does look hungry! What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? How should + they make them understand that they invited them to teach, not lunch. + Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out “apprendre” in the + dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they found it means both to teach + and to learn! What should they do? The foreigners were now sitting silent + in their different corners. The Spaniard grew more and more sallow. What + if he should faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of his mustaches to + a point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian should fight the + Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the airs of the + Parisian? + </p> + <p> + “We must give them something to eat,” said Mr. Peterkin, in a low tone. + “It would calm them.” + </p> + <p> + “If I only knew what they were used to eating,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others were used to + eating, and they might bring in anything. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could make good + coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American dish. Solomon John sent a + little boy for some olives. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked beans. + Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled eggs, and some + bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every man spoke his own + tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to her. They + all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was fluent about “les + moeurs Américaines.” Elizabeth Eliza supposed he alluded to their not + having set any table. The Turk smiled, the Russian was voluble. In the + midst of the clang of the different languages, just as Mr. Peterkin was + again repeating, under cover of the noise of many tongues, “How shall we + make them understand that we want them to teach?”—at this very + moment the door was flung open, and there came in the lady from + Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + </p> + <p> + She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different languages! + The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together they called upon + her to explain for them. Could she help them? Could she tell the + foreigners they wanted to take lessons? Lessons? They had no sooner + uttered the word than their guests all started up with faces beaming with + joy. It was the one English word they all knew! They had come to Boston to + give lessons! The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English in this + way. The thought pleased them more than the déjeûner. + </p> + <p> + Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. The + first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to teach. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS’. + </h2> + <p> + AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a profession. It + was important on account of the little boys. If he should make a trial of + several different professions he could find out which would be the most + likely to be successful, and it would then be easy to bring up the little + boys in the right direction. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family occasionally made + mistakes, and had come near disgracing themselves. Now was their chance to + avoid this in future by giving the little boys a proper education. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From earliest + childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips of paper. Mrs. + Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She could not bear the idea + of his bringing one disease after the other into the family circle. + Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. He thought he might manage it + if he should not have to see his patients while they were sick. If he + could only visit them when they were recovering, and when the danger of + infection was over, he would really enjoy making calls. + </p> + <p> + He should have a comfortable doctor’s chaise, and take one of the little + boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he could get + through the conversational part very well, and feeling the pulse, perhaps + looking at the tongue. He should take and read all the newspapers, and so + be thoroughly acquainted with the news of the day to talk of. But he + should not like to be waked up at night to visit. Mr. Peterkin thought + that would not be necessary. He had seen signs on doors of “Night Doctor,” + and certainly it would be as convenient to have a sign of “Not a Night + Doctor.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his patients + who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger of infection. And + then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his prescriptions would probably be so + satisfactory that they would keep his patients well,—not too well to + do without a doctor, but needing his recipes. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, by a desire + he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only invent something + important, and get out a patent, he would make himself known all over the + country. If he could get out a patent he would be set up for life, or at + least as long as the patent lasted, and it would be well to be sure to + arrange it to last through his natural life. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been suggested + by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their new house. He + had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked it up in the + Encyclopædia, and had spent a day or two in the Public Library, in reading + about Chubb’s Lock and other patent locks. + </p> + <p> + But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be made + alike! + </p> + <p> + He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, Solomon John + said, with all inventions, with Christopher Columbus, and everybody. + Nobody knew the invention till it was invented, and then it looked very + simple. With Agamemnon’s plan you need have but one key, that should fit + everything! It should be a medium-sized key, not too large to carry. It + ought to answer for a house door, but you might open a portmanteau with + it. How much less danger there would be of losing one’s keys if there were + only one to lose! + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were out, + and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But Agamemnon + explained that he did not mean there should be but one key in the family, + or in a town,—you might have as many as you pleased, only they + should all be alike. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,—they could + keep the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the key of + her upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And Mrs. Peterkin + felt it might be a convenience if they had one on each story, so that they + need not go up and down for it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide about + the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one morning, they went + into town to visit a patent-agent. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady from + Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + </p> + <p> + “I have had a delightful call,” she said; “but—perhaps I was wrong—I + could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon’s proposed patent. + I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things are kept profound + secrets; they say women always do tell things; I suppose that is the + reason.” + </p> + <p> + “But where is the harm?” asked Mrs. Peterkin. “I’m sure you can trust the + lady from Philadelphia.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had + questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had suggested that + “if everybody had the same key there would be no particular use in a + lock.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you explain to her,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “that we were not all to + have the same keys?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t quite understand her,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “but she seemed + to think that burglars and other people might come in if the keys were the + same.” + </p> + <p> + “Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!” said Mrs. Peterkin, + indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “But about other people,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “there is my upper drawer; + the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,—and their presents + in it!” + </p> + <p> + “And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda,” said Mrs. Peterkin, + considering. + </p> + <p> + Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know what the + lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza then proposed going + into town, but it would take so long she might not reach them in time. A + telegram would be better, and she ventured to suggest using the Telegraph + Alarm. + </p> + <p> + For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was provided + with all the modern improvements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. + Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since their experience the last + winter, when their water-pipes were frozen up. She had been originally + attracted to the house by an old pump at the side, which had led her to + believe there were no modern improvements. It had pleased the little boys, + too. They liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump all the + water needed, and bring it into the house. + </p> + <p> + There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner by the + barn. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the little + boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great fondness for + pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, that the well was dry. + There was no water in it; so she had some moss thrown down, and an old + feather-bed, for safety, and the old well was a favorite place of + amusement. + </p> + <p> + The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and “set- + waters” everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a + hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would be + summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to conceal from them + the use of the knobs, and the card of directions at the side was + destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first inventions to help this. He + had arranged a number of similar knobs to be put in rows in different + parts of the house, to appear as if they were intended for ornament, and + had added some to the original knobs. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a patent + for this invention. + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed sending a + telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was pleased with the idea. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she herself + would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write the telegram. + </p> + <p> + “I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning,” she said, looking at + one of the rows of knobs. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had put three + extra knobs at each end. + </p> + <p> + “But which is the end, and which is the beginning,—the top or the + bottom?” Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin asked hopelessly. + </p> + <p> + Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened with her + to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see the telegraph boy? + </p> + <p> + They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible noise was + heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the fire-brigade were + seen rushing at a fatal speed! + </p> + <p> + It was a terrific moment! + </p> + <p> + “I have touched the fire-alarm,” Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the fire-engines + were approaching. + </p> + <p> + “Do not be alarmed,” said the chief engineer; “the furniture shall be + carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “Move again!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a telegram to + her father, who was in Boston. + </p> + <p> + “It is not important,” said the head engineer; “the fire will all be out + before it could reach him.” + </p> + <p> + And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon the roof. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more + necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + </p> + <p> + “Write a telegram to your father,” she said to Elizabeth Eliza, “to ‘come + home directly.’” + </p> + <p> + “That will take but three words,” said Elizabeth Eliza, with presence of + mind, “and we need ten. I was just trying to make them out.” + </p> + <p> + “What has come now?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried again to + the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the street. + </p> + <p> + “I must have touched the carriage-knob,” cried Mrs. Peterkin, “and I + pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!” + </p> + <p> + Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were assembling. + Even their own little boys had returned from school, and were showing the + firemen the way to the well. + </p> + <p> + Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound arose. She + had touched the burglar-alarm! + </p> + <p> + The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, had + invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with a knob. A wire + attached to the knob moved a spring that could put in motion a number of + watchmen’s rattles, hidden under the eaves of the piazza. + </p> + <p> + All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those of the + neighborhood who had not before assembled around the house. At this moment + Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + </p> + <p> + “You need not send for more help,” he said; “we have all the engines in + town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the neighborhood; there’s + no use in springing any more alarms. I can’t find the fire yet, but we + have water pouring all over the house.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + </p> + <p> + “We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, who are + in town,” she endeavored to explain. + </p> + <p> + “If it is necessary,” said the chief engineer, “you might send it down in + one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing before the door. + We’d better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you women + might fill the carriages with smaller things.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself + with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice of + the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of the + hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched the + right knob. It was the fourth from the beginning; but the beginning was at + the other end! + </p> + <p> + She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind him her + father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and hurried toward them. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where were the + flames? + </p> + <p> + He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? Who was + dead? + </p> + <p> + Who was to be married? + </p> + <p> + He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and read it + aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Come to us directly—the house is NOT on fire!” + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + </p> + <p> + “The house not on fire!” he exclaimed. “What are we all summoned for?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a mistake,” cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. “We touched + the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy!” + </p> + <p> + “We touched all the wrong knobs,” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from the house. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with a few + exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines were heard + approaching. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one of the + carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was now nearly + ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought to send a telegram + down by the boy, for the evening papers, to announce that the Peterkins’ + house had not been on fire. + </p> + <p> + The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of flowers, + bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by the feet of the + crowd that had assembled. + </p> + <p> + The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his men to + order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. The collection of + boys followed the procession as it went away. The fire-brigade hastily + removed covers from some of the furniture, restored the rest to their + places, and took away their ladders. Many neighbors remained, but Mr. + Peterkin hastened into the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before he went + in, as to the success of their visit to town. + </p> + <p> + “We saw all the patent-agents,” answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow + whisper. “Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything to do + with it.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into the house. + She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she recalled some words + of Solomon John. When they were discussing the patent he had said that + many an inventor had grown gray before his discovery was acknowledged by + the public. Others might reap the harvest, but it came, perhaps, only when + he was going to his grave. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed him silently + into the house. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + AGAMEMNON’S CAREER. + </h2> + <p> + THERE had apparently been some mistake in Agamemnon’s education. He had + been to a number of colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his + course in any one. + </p> + <p> + He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. It + was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always tried to + find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit upon the right + thing. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the elective + system, where you were to choose what study you might take. This had + always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + </p> + <p> + “And how was a feller to tell,” Solomon John had asked, “whether he wanted + to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out awful hard!” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood up. He was + at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he would come out a + great scholar, because she could never get him away from his books. + </p> + <p> + And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the library, + reading and reading. But they were always the wrong books. + </p> + <p> + For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the Spartan + war. + </p> + <p> + This turned Agamemnon’s attention to the Fenians, and to study the subject + he read up on “Charles O’Malley,” and “Harry Lorrequer,” and some later + novels of that sort, which did not help him on the subject required, yet + took up all his time, so that he found himself unfitted for anything else + when the examinations came. In consequence he was requested to leave. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason that + Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was always asked the + questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; if the professors had only + asked something else! + </p> + <p> + But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the things + they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing to take for + students only those who already knew certain things. She thought Agamemnon + might be a professor in a college for those students who didn’t know those + things. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal,” she added, + “or they would not have asked you so many questions; they would have told + you something.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he had made + with some of his classmates. They had taken a great deal of trouble to + bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to make a bonfire with, under one + of the professors’ windows. Agamemnon had felt it would be a compliment to + the professor. + </p> + <p> + It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return from + successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled upon lofty + heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes after distant + adventures. As he plodded back and forward he imagined himself some hero + of antiquity. He was reading “Plutarch’s Lives” with deep interest. This + had been recommended at a former college, and he was now taking it up in + the midst of his French course. + </p> + <p> + He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in Lynn, + perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and glorify its + heroes. + </p> + <p> + For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in + consequence of going back and forward through the snow, carrying the wood. + </p> + <p> + But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor’s room, + and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the whole + institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his predecessor, + who gave him his name, must have regretted that other bonfire, on the + shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a daughter. + </p> + <p> + The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, after having + been in the institution but a few months. + </p> + <p> + He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding about the + hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly at ten o’clock, but + found, afterward, that he should have gone at half-past six. This hour + seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin unseasonable, at a time of year when + the sun was not up, and he would have been obliged to go to the expense of + candles. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever he could be + admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it might be found. But, + after going to five, and leaving each before the year was out, he gave it + up. + </p> + <p> + He determined to lay out the money that would have been expended in a + collegiate education in buying an Encyclopædia, the most complete that he + could find, and to spend his life studying it systematically. He would not + content himself with merely reading it, but he would study into each + subject as it came up, and perfect himself in that subject. By the time, + then, that he had finished the Encyclopædia he should have embraced all + knowledge, and have experienced much of it. + </p> + <p> + The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of every + subject that came up. + </p> + <p> + He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second column + of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. This led him to + the study of music. He bought a flute, and took some lessons, and + attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the piano. This, of course, + distracted him from his work on the Encyclopædia. But he did not wish to + return to A until he felt perfect in music. This required a long time. + </p> + <p> + Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was requested + to “see Keys.” It was necessary, then, to turn to “Keys.” This was about + the time the family were moving, which we have mentioned, when the + difficult subject of keys came up, that suggested to him his own simple + invention, and the hope of getting a patent for it. This led him astray, + as inventions before have done with master-minds, so that he was drawn + aside from his regular study. + </p> + <p> + The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career Agamemnon + had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of life, if he should + master the Encyclopædia in a thorough way. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a college + course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different Encyclopædias that + appeared. + </p> + <p> + There would be no “spreads” involved; no expense of receiving friends at + entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that it would not be + necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At all the times of his + leaving he had sold out favorably to other occupants. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John’s destiny was more uncertain. He was looking forward to being + a doctor some time, but he had not decided whether to be allopathic or + homeopathic, or whether he could not better invent his own pills. And he + could not understand how to obtain his doctor’s degree. + </p> + <p> + For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist’s store. But he could + serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it was found he + was not familiar enough with the Latin language to compound the drugs. He + agreed to spend his evenings in studying the Latin grammar; but his course + was interrupted by his being dismissed for treating the little boys too + frequently to soda. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The family had + been much exercised with regard to their education. Elizabeth Eliza felt + that everything should be expected from them; they ought to take advantage + from the family mistakes. Every new method that came up was tried upon the + little boys. + </p> + <p> + They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and were just + able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now considered best + that children should not be taught to read till they were ten years old. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken from them + even then, they might forget what they had learned. But no, the evil was + done; the brain had received certain impressions that could not be blurred + over. + </p> + <p> + This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the public + schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling school, and joined + a class in music, and another in dancing; they went to some afternoon + lectures for children, when there was no other school, and belonged to a + walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin was dissatisfied by the slowness of their + progress. He visited the schools himself, and found that they did not lead + their classes. It seemed to him a great deal of time was spent in things + that were not instructive, such as putting on and taking off their + india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school and taught + by Agamemnon from the Encyclopædia. The rest of the family might help in + the education at all hours of the day. Solomon John could take up the + Latin grammar, and she could give lessons in French. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not want to + have the study-hours all the time. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should make their + life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at breakfast, and study + everything put upon the table,—the material of which it was made, + and where it came from. + </p> + <p> + In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study of music, + and from one meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have the assistance,” said Mr. Peterkin, “of Agamemnon, with his + Encyclopædia.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, and in + their first breakfast everything would therefore have to begin with A. + </p> + <p> + “That would not be impossible,” said Mr. Peterkin. “There is Amanda, who + will wait on table, to start with—” + </p> + <p> + “We could have ‘am-and-eggs,” suggested Solomon John Mrs. Peterkin was + distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything for breakfast, and + impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to do was + to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their answers as they + could. + </p> + <p> + They could still apply to the Encyclopædia, even if it were not in + Agamemnon’s alphabetical course. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study the + botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. The study + of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of the butter-dish + would bring in geology. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from the + cream-jug, and they were promised a potter’s wheel directly. + </p> + <p> + “You see, my dear,” said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, “before many weeks, we + shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our children.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we might begin with botany. That would be near + to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the botany of butter. On + what does the cow feed?” + </p> + <p> + The little boys were eager to go out and see. + </p> + <p> + “If she eats clover,” said Mr. Peterkin, “we shall expect the botany of + clover.” + </p> + <p> + The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that very + evening they should go out and study the cow. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple breakfast. The + little boys took their note-books and pencils, and clambered upon the + fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + </p> + <p> + For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They were always + coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to count them, and + nobody was very sure how many there were. + </p> + <p> + There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She looked at + them with large eyes. + </p> + <p> + “She won’t eat,” they cried, “while we are looking at her!” + </p> + <p> + So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and seated + themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to time, to see + the cow. + </p> + <p> + “Now she is nibbling a clover.” + </p> + <p> + “No, that is a bit of sorrel.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s a whole handful of grass.” + </p> + <p> + “What kind of grass?” they exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and pretending to + the cow that they were looking into the street, and yet to be looking at + the cow all the time, and finding out what she was eating; and the upper + rail of the fence was narrow and a little sharp. It was very high, too, + for some additional rails had been put on to prevent the cow from jumping + into the garden or street. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw six legs + and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys disappeared! + </p> + <p> + “They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the cow!” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. Solomon John + and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but stopped, not knowing + what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered herself with a supreme effort, + and sent them out to the rescue. + </p> + <p> + But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep the cow + out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the milking had gone off + with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps with the key of the shed door. + Even if that were not locked, before Agamemnon could get round by the + wood-shed and cow-shed, the little boys might be gored through and + through! + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the druggist’s for + plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through the dining-room to the + wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. Peterkin mounted the outside of the + fence, while Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high enough + to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported what he saw. + </p> + <p> + They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One of the + little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was moving. + </p> + <p> + The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his + india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + </p> + <p> + Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the grass, + still looking at him. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little boys were next + seen running toward it. + </p> + <p> + A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile with + Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. But, by the time + they had reached the house, the three little boys were safe in the arms of + their mother! + </p> + <p> + “This is too dangerous a form of education,” she cried; “I had rather they + went to school.” + </p> + <p> + “No!” they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other way. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. + </h2> + <p> + MRS. PETERKIN’S nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of the + three little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the + educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys continued at + school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little as possible upon + the subject of education. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin’s spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little boys + were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of strings were + arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by which the little boys could be + pulled up, if they should again fall down into the enclosure. These were + planned something like curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently amused + himself by pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + </p> + <p> + Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of questions. + Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always necessary to answer; that + many who could did not answer questions,—the conductors of the + railroads, for instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations + on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Agamemnon, “one might be a conductor without even knowing the + names of the stations, because you can’t understand them when they do tell + them!” + </p> + <p> + “I never know,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “whether it is ignorance in them, or + unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how soon one station is + coming, or how long you are to stop, even if one asks ever so many times. + It would be useful if they would tell.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in + Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible from the + place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too much to have + the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, ordering the + conductors “to stop at the farthest crossing.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been carrying + on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had imparted to no + one, and at last she announced, as its result, that she was ready for a + breakfast on educational principles. + </p> + <p> + A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken the + alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the whole alphabet + must be represented in one breakfast. + </p> + <p> + This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, Coffee, + Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice (on butter), Jam, + Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, Oatmeal, Pepper, + Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Veal-pie, Waffles, Yeast-biscuit. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. “Excellent!” he cried. “Every + letter represented except Z.” Mrs. Peterkin drew from her pocket a letter + from the lady from Philadelphia. “She thought you would call it X-cellent + for X, and she tells us,” she read, “that if you come with a zest, you + will bring the Z.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite the + children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a zest, indeed, + it would give to the study of their letters! + </p> + <p> + It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + </p> + <p> + “How happy,” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, “that this should come first of all! + A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had mastered the first + letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the more involved subjects + hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc.” + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden in the apple. + There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss independence. The + little boys were wild to act William Tell, but Mrs. Peterkin was afraid of + the arrows. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, then + discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps first + historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first apple. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the griddles + were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at home on the + marmalade, because the quinces came from grandfather’s, and she had seen + them planted; she remembered all about it, and now the bush came up to the + sitting-room window. + </p> + <p> + She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where the + granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite recollected + why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it took you almost + the whole day to stew them, and then you might as well set them on again. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at grandfather’s. In + order to know thoroughly about apples, they ought to understand the making + of cider. + </p> + <p> + Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather’s, scarcely twelve miles + away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should not the family go this + very day up to grandfather’s, and continue the education of the breakfast? + </p> + <p> + “Why not indeed?” exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather’s would + give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard to the + cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, even to + follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + </p> + <p> + It was suggested, too, that at grandfather’s they might study the + processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: they were + both the products of trees—the apple-tree and the maple. Mr. + Peterkin proposed that the lesson for the day should be considered the + study of trees, and on the way they could look at other trees. + </p> + <p> + Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the present. + Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely be in a hurry for + dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day before them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for luncheon. + </p> + <p> + But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could hardly + take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as the little + boys did not take up much room. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at grandfather’s. + </p> + <p> + Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object to + staying some days. This would make it easier about coming home, but it did + not settle the difficulty in getting there. + </p> + <p> + Why not “Ride and Tie”? + </p> + <p> + The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and Agamemnon + and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit in + the carriage, when it was waiting for the pedestrians to come up; or, she + said, she did not object to a little turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin would + start, with Solomon John and the little boys, before the rest, and + Agamemnon should drive his mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first + stopping-place. + </p> + <p> + Then came up another question,—of Elizabeth Eliza’s trunk. If she + stayed a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be hot, and + it might be cold. + </p> + <p> + Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her heaviest + wraps. + </p> + <p> + You never could depend upon the weather. Even “Probabilities” got you no + farther than to-day. + </p> + <p> + In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the + expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left the + table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself with Amanda + over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon went to + order the horse and the expressman, and Solomon John and the little boys + prepared themselves for a pedestrian excursion. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so many + things she might want, and then again she might not. She must put up her + music, because her grandfather had a piano; and then she bethought herself + of Agamemnon’s flute, and decided to pick out a volume or two of the + Encyclopædia. But it was hard to decide, all by herself, whether to take G + for griddle-cakes, or M for maple-syrup, or T for tree. She would take as + many as she could make room for. + </p> + <p> + She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must take some + French books she had never yet found time to read. This involved taking + her French dictionary, as she doubted if her grandfather had one. She + ought to put in a “Botany,” if they were to study trees; but she could not + tell which, so she would take all there were. She might as well take all + her dresses, and it was no harm if one had too many wraps. When she had + her trunk packed, she found it over-full; it was difficult to shut it. She + had heard Solomon John set out from the front door with his father and the + little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse at the side door, so + there was no use in calling for help. She got upon the trunk; she jumped + upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, found she could lock it! + Yes, it was really locked. + </p> + <p> + But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been caught + in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was worse, she was so + fastened to the trunk that she could not lean forward far enough to turn + the key back, to unlock the trunk and release herself! The lock had + slipped easily, but she could not now get hold of the key in the right way + to turn it back. + </p> + <p> + She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She called + for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the trunk. But her door + was shut. + </p> + <p> + Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the door, + to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, in her + constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she would have + been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her travelling-dress, and + too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. Alas, she had packed her + scissors, and her knife she had lent to the little boys the day before! + She called again. What silence there was in the house! Her voice seemed to + echo through the room. At length, as she listened, she heard the sound of + wheels. + </p> + <p> + Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear the + front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to “have the day.” + But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to Amanda, to explain to her + to wait for the expressman. She was to have told her as she went + downstairs. But she had not been able to go downstairs! And Amanda must + have supposed that all the family had left, and she, too, must have gone, + knowing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard the front + door shut! + </p> + <p> + But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she had + proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her father, to be + picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have finished her packing in + time. Her mother must have supposed that she had done so,—that she + had spoken to Amanda, and started with the rest. Well, she would soon + discover her mistake. She would overtake the walking party, and, not + finding Elizabeth Eliza, would return for her. Patience only was needed. + She had looked around for something to read; but she had packed up all her + books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She tried + to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the family. They were + good walkers, and they might have reached the two-mile bridge. But suppose + they should stop for water beneath the arch of the bridge, as they often + did, and the carryall pass over it without seeing them, her mother would + not know but she was with them? And suppose her mother should decide to + leave the horse at the place proposed for stopping and waiting for the + first pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no one would be left to tell + the rest, when they should come up to the carryall. They might go on so, + through the whole journey, without meeting, and she might not be missed + till they should reach her grandfather’s! + </p> + <p> + Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The expressman + would come, but the expressman would go, for he would not be able to get + into the house! + </p> + <p> + She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was shut up + in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and knew not when she + should be released! She had acted once in the ballad of the “Mistletoe + Bough.” She had been one of the “guests,” who had sung “Oh, the Mistletoe + Bough,” and had looked up at it, and she had seen at the side-scenes how + the bride had laughingly stepped into the trunk. But the trunk then was + only a make-believe of some boards in front of a sofa, and this was a + stern reality. + </p> + <p> + It would be late now before her family would reach her grandfather’s. + Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. Perhaps they would fancy she + was coming by express. She gave another tremendous effort to move the + trunk toward the door. + </p> + <p> + In vain. All was still. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering why + Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started on with + Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had packed the things into + the carriage,—a basket of lunch, a change of shoes for Mr. Peterkin, + some extra wraps,—everything Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth Eliza did + not come. “I think she must have walked on with your father,” she said, at + last; “you had better get in.” Agamemnon now got in. “I should think she + would have mentioned it,” she continued; “but we may as well start on, and + pick her up!” + </p> + <p> + They started off. “I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to Amanda, but + we must ask her when we come up with her.” + </p> + <p> + But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond the + village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting manner against a + tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave missives for each other as + they passed on. This note informed them that the walking party was going + to take the short cut across the meadows, and would still be in front of + them. They saw the party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. + Peterkin was explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as + they stood around a large specimen. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a ‘Quercus,’” said + Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an expression, + but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of the party, however, + were behind the tree, some were in front, and Elizabeth Eliza might be + behind the tree. They were too far off to be shouted at. Mrs. Peterkin was + calmed, and went on to the stopping-lace agreed upon, which they reached + before long. This had been appointed near Farmer Gordon’s barn, that there + might be somebody at hand whom they knew, in case there should be any + difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had been that Mrs. Peterkin + should always sit in the carriage, while the others should take turns for + walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a fence, and left her comfortably + arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she had risen so early to prepare for + the alphabetical breakfast, and had since been so tired with preparations, + that she was quite sleepy, and would not object to a nape in the shade, by + the soothing sound of the buzzing of the flies. But she called Agamemnon + back, as he started off for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question: + </p> + <p> + “Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated in + the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth Eliza + gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have expected + that she—Mrs. Peterkin—would walk on to the next stopping- + place!” + </p> + <p> + She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest passed + her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting cheerfully. It was a + little joggly in the carriage, she had already found, for the horse was + restless from the flies, and she did not like being left alone. + </p> + <p> + She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, but the + sun became hot, and it was not long before she was fatigued. When they + reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to rest upon one of the + hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at the other end of the field, + and they were seated there when the carryall passed them in the road. Mrs. + Peterkin waved parasol and hat, and the party in the carryall returned + their greetings, but they were too far apart to hear each other. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall,” she said, “and that + will explain all.” + </p> + <p> + But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent + stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A note was + pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it was “prime + fun.” + </p> + <p> + In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. Peterkin + felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the carryall missed + her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a house to rest, and for a + glass of water. + </p> + <p> + She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The party + had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided all should + meet at the foot of grandfather’s hill, that they might all arrive at the + house together. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all the way, + as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. Peterkin’s last + walk had been so slow, that the other party was far in advance and reached + the stopping-place before them. The little boys were all rowed out on the + stone fence, awaiting them, full of delight at having reached + grandfather’s. Mr. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. + Peterkin, exclaimed: “Where is Elizabeth Eliza?” Each party looked eagerly + at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be seen. Where was she? What was + to be done? Was she left behind? Mrs. Peterkin was convinced she must have + somehow got to grandfather’s. They hurried up the hill. Grandfather and + all the family came out to greet them, for they had been seen approaching. + There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + </p> + <p> + It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin stood and + looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late to send back for + Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the object of + their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking up and down the + road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were explaining to each other the + details of their journeys, they had discovered some facts. + </p> + <p> + “We shall have to go back,” they exclaimed. “We are too late! The + maple-syrup was all made last spring.” + </p> + <p> + “We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months,—the + cider is not made till October.” + </p> + <p> + The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of neither + maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, perhaps forever! The + sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin still stood to look up and down + the road. + </p> + <p> + ... Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, as it seemed for + ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of prisoners,—how they + had watched the growth of flowers through cracks in the pavement. She + wondered how long she could live without eating. How thankful she was for + her abundant breakfast! + </p> + <p> + At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to answer + it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was impossible! + </p> + <p> + How singular!—there were footsteps. Some one was going to the door; + some one had opened it. “They must be burglars.” Well, perhaps that was a + better fate—to be gagged by burglars, and the neighbors informed—than + to be forever locked on her trunk. The steps approached the door. It + opened, and Amanda ushered in the expressman. + </p> + <p> + Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the + breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she must receive. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the key of + her trunk, and she was released! + </p> + <p> + What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had given up all + hope of her family returning for her. But how could she reach them? + </p> + <p> + She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until she + should come up with some of the family. At least she would fall in with + either the walking party or the carryall, or she would meet them if they + were on their return. + </p> + <p> + She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took their way, + stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + </p> + <p> + But much to Elizabeth Eliza’s dismay, they turned off from the main road + on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver insisted he must + go round by Millikin’s to leave a bedstead. They went round by Millikin’s, + and then had further turns to make. Elizabeth Eliza explained that in this + way it would be impossible for her to find her parents and family, and at + last he proposed to take her all the way with her trunk. She remembered + with a shudder that when she had first asked about her trunk, he had + promised it should certainly be delivered the next morning. Suppose they + should have to be out all night? Where did express-carts spend the night? + She thought of herself in a lone wood, in an express-wagon! She could + hardly bring herself to ask, before assenting, when he should arrive. + </p> + <p> + “He guessed he could bring up before night.” + </p> + <p> + And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset were + looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about the lost + Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. A female form sat + upon the front seat. + </p> + <p> + “She has decided to come by express,” said Mrs. Peterkin. “It is—it + is—Elizabeth Eliza!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT THE “CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS” IN BOSTON. + </h2> + <p> + THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about the carnival of + authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was announced, their + interests were excited, and they determined that all the family should go. + </p> + <p> + But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they supposed + that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza thought their lessons + in the foreign languages would help them much in conversing in character. + </p> + <p> + As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there would be + time to read up everything written by all the authors, in order to be + acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. Peterkin did not wish + to begin too early upon the reading, for she was sure she should forget + all that the different authors had written before the day came. + </p> + <p> + But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time enough, as + it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had given up her French + lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and had, indeed, concluded + she had learned in them all she should need to know of that language. She + could repeat one or two pages of phrases, and she was astonished to find + how much she could understand already of what the French teacher said to + her; and he assured her that when she went to Paris she could at least ask + the price of gloves, or of some other things she would need, and he taught + her, too, how to pronounce “garçon,” in calling for more. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might make + themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys were already + acquainted with “Mother Goose.” Mr. Peterkin had read the “Pickwick + Papers,” and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Longfellow getting into a + horse-car. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give lectures + upon the “Arabian Nights.” Everybody else was planning something of the + sort, to “raise funds” for some purpose, and she was sure they ought not + to be behindhand. Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise funds + enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they could go + every night. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the funds + for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds enough they + might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and take the carnival + comfortably. + </p> + <p> + But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were authors, and only + authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had once started upon writing a + book, but he was not able to think of anything to put in it, and nothing + had occurred to him yet. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could come out + before the carnival he could go as an author, and might have a booth of + his own, and take his family. + </p> + <p> + But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an author. You might + indeed publish something, but you had to make sure that it would be read. + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled with + books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For herself, she + had not read half the books in their own library. And she was glad there + was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might know who they were. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a “Carnival”; but he + supposed they should find out when they went to it. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed looking + over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some suitable dresses + there, and these would suggest what characters they should take. Elizabeth + Eliza was pleased with this thought. She remembered an old turban of white + mull muslin, in an old bandbox, and why should not her mother wear it? + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own grandmother. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the East, and + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John thought she + might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. Among the treasures found + were some old bonnets, of large size, with waving plumes. Elizabeth Eliza + decided upon the largest of these. + </p> + <p> + She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John was to take + the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was planning to enter upon + the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was a little afraid of + sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great while finding the shore. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a coal-hod + that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher Columbus was born in + Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian he had lately learned of his + teacher. + </p> + <p> + As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a happy + thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would come in play, + and he was quite sure that his own family name made him kin to that of the + great Czar. He studied up the life in the Encyclopædia, and decided to + take the costume of a ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and some of + the docks; but none of them gave him the true idea of dress for + ship-building in Holland or St. Petersburg. + </p> + <p> + But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a + broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a costumer’s, and + with Elizabeth Eliza’s black waterproof was satisfied with his own + appearance. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in some + Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large bonnet, but she + had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs on their heads, and + she might wear her own muff. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of false + curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed over her + black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much like the picture + of their great-grandmother. But doubtless Cleopatra resembled this + picture, as it was all so long ago, so the rest of the family decided. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as represented in one of + the little boys’ arks, was simple. His father’s red-lined dressing gown, + turned inside out, permitted it easily. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a long dress of + yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the little boys. For the + little boys were to represent two doves and a raven. There were + feather-dusters enough in the family for their costumes, which would be + then complete with their india-rubber boots. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher Columbus. He + had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his pocket, proposing to + repeat, through the evening, the scene of setting the egg on its end. He + gave up the plan of a boat, as it must be difficult to carry one into + town; so he contented himself by practising the motion of landing by + stepping up on a chair. + </p> + <p> + But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, as + Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if it were + not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to take an ark into + town as Solomon John’s boat. + </p> + <p> + The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the hall + late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as they stopped + at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found themselves entangled + with a number of people in costume coming out from a dressing-room below. + Mr. Peterkin was much encouraged. They were thus joining the performers. + The band was playing the “Wedding March” as they went upstairs to a door + of the hall which opened upon one side of the stage. Here a procession was + marching up the steps of the stage, all in costume, and entering behind + the scenes. + </p> + <p> + “We are just in the right time,” whispered Mr. Peterkin to his family; + “they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line.” The little boys + had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from one of the managers made + Peterkin understand the situation. + </p> + <p> + “We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I thought he was dead!” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Authors live forever!” said Agamemnon in her ear. + </p> + <p> + At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage manager glared + at them, as he awaited their names for introduction, while they came up + all unannounced,—a part of the programme not expected. But he + uttered the words upon his lips, “Great Expectations;” and the Peterkin + family swept across the stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as + Peter the Great, Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon + John as Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. + Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. Columbus, and + the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + </p> + <p> + Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then following the + rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the audience, they went; + but into an audience not dressed in costume! + </p> + <p> + There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,—all the neighbors,—all + as natural as though they were walking the streets at home, though Ann + Maria did wear white gloves. + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea you were to appear in character,” said Ann Maria to + Elizabeth Eliza; “to what booth do you belong?” + </p> + <p> + “We are no particular author,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I see, a sort of varieties’ booth,” said Mr. Osborne. + </p> + <p> + “What is your character?” asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “I have not quite decided,” said Elizabeth Eliza. “I thought I should find + out after I came here. The marshal called us ‘Great Expectations.’” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. “I have shaken hands with + Dickens!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken hands + with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + </p> + <p> + They had been swept off in Mother Goose’s train, which had lingered on the + steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the procession of + characters in costume had closed. At this moment they were dancing round + the barberry bush, in a corner of the balcony in Mother Goose’s quarters, + their feather-dusters gayly waving in the air. + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled herself + with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the grand closing + tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which swept her hither and + thither. At last she found herself in the Whittier Booth, and sat a long + time calmly there. As Cleopatra she seemed out of place, but as her own + grandmother she answered well with its New England scenery. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he found a chance + to enter a booth. Once before an admiring audience he set up his egg in + the centre of the Goethe Booth, which had been deserted by its committee + for the larger stage. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the Arabian + Nights. + </p> + <p> + It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going on + the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups represented + there. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the “Dream of Fair Women,” at its + most culminating point. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin found himself with the “Cricket on the Hearth,” in the + Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but always in the + Russian language, which was never understood. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every manager + was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to some other, and she + passed along, always trying to explain that she had not yet decided upon + her character. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand,” he said, “why none of our friends are dressed in + costume, and why we are.” + </p> + <p> + “I rather like it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “though I should be better + pleased if I could form a group with some one.” + </p> + <p> + The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join the + performers. It was the dance of her youth. + </p> + <p> + But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led to the + stage. + </p> + <p> + “I cannot understand this company,” he said, distractedly. + </p> + <p> + “They cannot find their booth,” said another. + </p> + <p> + “That is the case,” said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor,” said a polite marshal. + </p> + <p> + They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the + refreshment-room. + </p> + <p> + “This is the booth for us,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it is,” said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + </p> + <p> + At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,—the little boys, who + had been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose’s establishment, and now came + down for ice-cream. + </p> + <p> + “I hardly know how to sit down,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “for I am sure Mrs. + Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. Shem, I will + venture it.” + </p> + <p> + Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon arranged in a + row, calmly eating ice-cream. + </p> + <p> + “I think the truth is,” said Mr. Peterkin, “that we represent historical + people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters in books. That is, + I observe, what the others are. We shall know better another time.” + </p> + <p> + “If we only ever get home,” said Mrs. Peterkin, “I shall not wish to come + again. It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it is so + bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going round and + round in this way.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid we shall never reach home,” said Agamemnon, who had been + silent for some time; “we may have to spend the night here. I find I have + lost our checks for our clothes in the cloak-room!” + </p> + <p> + “Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra’s turban!” exclaimed Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “We should like to come every night,” cried the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “But to spend the night,” repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night,” said Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “But never to recover our cloaks,” said Mrs. Peterkin; “could not the + little boys look round for the checks on the floors?” + </p> + <p> + She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might never see + again. + </p> + <p> + She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,—her grandmother’s,—that + Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have made into a foot-rug. Now how + she wished she had! And there were Mr. Peterkin’s new overshoes, and + Agamemnon had brought an umbrella, and the little boys had their mittens. + Their india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the character of + birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth Eliza a muff. + Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home in the cold + without them? No, it would be better to wait till everybody had gone, and + then look carefully over the floors for the checks; if only the little + boys could know where Agamemnon had been, they were willing to look. Mr. + Peterkin was not sure as they would have time to reach the train. + </p> + <p> + Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the time. + He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and he thought it + would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear it. + </p> + <p> + At this moment the strains of “Home, Sweet Home” were heard from the band, + and people were seen preparing to go. + </p> + <p> + “All can go home, but we must stay,” said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, as the + well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + </p> + <p> + A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at them, + whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + </p> + <p> + “Can we do anything for you?” asked one at last. “Would you not like to + go?” He seemed eager they should leave the room. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the checks + for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor when + everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not describe what they + had worn, in which case the loss of the checks was not so important, as + the crowds had now almost left, and it would not be difficult to identify + their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin eagerly declared she could describe every + article. + </p> + <p> + It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the quickly + deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their garments! Mrs. + Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness of the marshals; she + feared they had some pretext for getting the family out of the hall. Mrs. + Peterkin was one of those who never consent to be forced to anything. She + would not be compelled to go home, even with strains of music. She + whispered her suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came hastily up to + announce the time, which he had learned from the clock in the large hall. + They must leave directly if they wished to catch the latest train, as + there was barely time to reach it. + </p> + <p> + Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss the + train! + </p> + <p> + If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She was + the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed her, just in + time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + </p> + <p> + The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of their + friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so they had many + questions put to them which they were unable to answer. Still Mrs. + Peterkin’s turban was much admired, and indeed the whole appearance of the + family; so that they felt themselves much repaid for their exertions. + </p> + <p> + But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their friends; + but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, they walked very + slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys were sent on with the + pass-key to open the door. They soon returned with the startling + intelligence that it was not the right key, and they could not get in. It + was Mr. Peterkin’s office-key; he had taken it by mistake, or he might + have dropped the house-key in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + </p> + <p> + “Must we go back?” sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. More than + ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon’s invention in keys had + failed to secure a patent! + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been allowed to go + and spend the night with a friend, so there was no use in ringing, though + the little boys had tried it. + </p> + <p> + “We can return to the station,” said Mr. Peterkin; “the rooms will be + warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think what we + shall do next.” + </p> + <p> + At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the New York + midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the train went through at + half-past. + </p> + <p> + “I saw lights at the locksmith’s over the way, as I passed,” he said; “why + do not you send over to the young man there? He can get your door open for + you. I never would spend the night here.” + </p> + <p> + Solomon John went over to “the young man,” who agreed to go up to the + house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open the door, and + come back to them on his way home. Solomon John came back to the station, + for it was now cold and windy in the deserted streets. The family made + themselves as comfortable as possible by the stove, sending Solomon John + out occasionally to look for the young man. But somehow Solomon John + missed him; the lights were out in the locksmith’s shop, so he followed + along to the house, hoping to find him there. + </p> + <p> + But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young man had + opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and Agamemnon went back + together, but they could not get in. Where was the young man? He had + lately come to town, and nobody knew where he lived, for on the return of + Solomon John and Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of the + young man. The night was wearing on. + </p> + <p> + The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came and went + looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her turban, as she sat by + the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last the station-master had to + leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to lock up the station, but he + promised to return at an early hour to release them. + </p> + <p> + “Of what use,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “if we cannot even then get into our + own house?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had left + town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and helped himself to + spoons, and left. + </p> + <p> + Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. Solomon + John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only ventured to whisper his + suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse Mrs. Peterkin, who still was + nodding in the corner of the long bench. + </p> + <p> + Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; perhaps + by some effort in the early daylight they might make an entrance. + </p> + <p> + On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his beat. He + stopped when he saw the family. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! that accounts,” he said; “you were all out last night, and the + burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a lively + young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had been a + minute late he would have made his way in”—The family then tried to + interrupt—to explain—“Where is he?” exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Safe in the lock-up,” answered the policeman. + </p> + <p> + “But he is the locksmith!” interrupted Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “We have no key!” said Elizabeth Eliza; “if you have locked up the + locksmith we can never get in.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he + understood the case. + </p> + <p> + “The locksmith!” he exclaimed; “he is a new fellow, and I did not + recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, + that he may let you in!” and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin + family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him,” said Mr. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the + house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he appear + so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in the closet + of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, and, almost as + soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released locksmith, and a + few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. + </p> + <p> + The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the + policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, + pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the family + could go in. + </p> + <p> + Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. + Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. “I shall never go to another + carnival!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. + </h2> + <p> + YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and + deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly + postponed. + </p> + <p> + But here they were at last, at the “Old Farm,” so called, where seaside + attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they were + to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of Ann Maria + Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them there, though + she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very next day. + </p> + <p> + Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole thing + had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be sure, had + not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, wonderful to + tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and + the volumes of the Encyclopædia that might tell him how to manage it, and + Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used their + india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and carrying + one in each hand,—a very convenient way for travelling they + considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their + boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat + inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room enough + could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted to them. + </p> + <p> + There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and camera. + Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of the machine + going off; so an out-house was found for them, where Agamemnon and Solomon + John could arrange them. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and + low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little stuffy at + first. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the farm was + evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he gave himself to + examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and the fields and vegetable + gardens, which were shown to him by a highly intelligent person, a Mr. + Atwood, who devoted himself to explaining to Mr. Peterkin all the details + of methods in the farming. + </p> + <p> + The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, when + they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach the beach. The + advertisements had surely stated that the “Old Farm” was directly on the + shore, and that sea-bathing would be exceedingly convenient; which was + hardly the case if it took you an hour and a half to walk to it. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies between the + advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; but he was more + than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to remain and admire it, + while the rest of the family went to find the beach, starting off in a + wagon large enough to accommodate them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + </p> + <p> + Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the family in a + row on the beach; but he decided not to take his camera out the first + afternoon. + </p> + <p> + This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached the beach. + </p> + <p> + “If this wagon were not so shaky,” said Mrs. Peterkin “we might drive over + every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, and I suppose + Agamemnon can turn on the beach.” + </p> + <p> + “We should have to spend the whole day about it,” said Solomon John, in a + discouraged tone, “unless we can have a quicker horse.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps we should prefer that,” said Elizabeth Eliza, a little gloomily, + “to staying at the house.” + </p> + <p> + She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant and + fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was disappointed that + the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would understand the ways of the + place. Yet, again, she was somewhat relieved, for if their trunks did not + come till the next day, as was feared, she should have nothing but her + travelling dress to wear, which would certainly answer for to-night. + </p> + <p> + She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses for this + very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would hardly need them, + and was disappointed to have no chance to display them. But of course, + when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria came, all would be different; but they + would surely be wasted on the two old ladies she had seen, and on the old + men who had lounged about the porch; there surely was not a gentleman + among them. + </p> + <p> + Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as gentlemen wore + their exercise dress, and took a pride in going around in shocking hats + and flannel suits. Doubtless they would be dressed for dinner on their + return. + </p> + <p> + On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals by + themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating dinner or lunch. + There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, that might come under + either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were well pleased. + </p> + <p> + “I had no idea we should have really farm-fare,” Mrs. Peterkin said. “I + have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first meal, as + evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in spite of the + numerous letters that had been exchanged. + </p> + <p> + The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment of + their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining to go to + the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and horses; and all the + way over to the beach the other little boys were hopping in and out of the + wagon, which never went too fast, to pick long mullein-stalks, for whips + to urge on the reluctant horse with, or to gather huckleberries, with + which they were rejoiced to find the fields were filled, although, as yet, + the berries were very green. + </p> + <p> + They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; but + Mrs. + </p> + <p> + Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it + was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + </p> + <p> + On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the same + old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. + </p> + <p> + “A little seedy, I should say,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Smoking pipes,” said Agamemnon; “I believe that is the latest style.” + </p> + <p> + “The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable,” Mrs. Peterkin was + forced to say. + </p> + <p> + There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where they were + to be put, and as to their meals. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, who + were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one of them was + very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. She discovered from a + moderately tidy maid, by the name of Martha, who seemed a sort of + factotum, that there were other ladies in their rooms, too much of + invalids to appear. + </p> + <p> + “Regular bed-ridden,” Martha had described them, which Elizabeth Eliza did + not consider respectful. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind the house, + very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and found it in admirable + order. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and + ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner and + tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for granted + that it was to be “tea,” and if they were unused to a late dinner they + might be disturbed if they had only provided a “tea.” + </p> + <p> + So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was surprised when + Martha replied, “The lady must say,” nodding to Mrs. Peterkin. “She can + have it just when she wants, and just what she wants!” + </p> + <p> + This was an unexpected courtesy. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, they took it a long time ago,” Martha answered. “If the lady will go + out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants.” + </p> + <p> + “Bring us in what you have,” said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite hungry. “If + you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would be well.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps some eggs,” murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Scrambled,” cried one of the little boys. + </p> + <p> + “Fried potatoes would not be bad,” suggested Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + “Couldn’t we have some onions?” asked the little boy who had stayed at + home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the others had their supper. + </p> + <p> + “A pie would come in well,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “And some stewed cherries,” said the other little boy. + </p> + <p> + Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, when, in + the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended appeared. Their + appetites were admirable, and they pronounced the food the same. + </p> + <p> + “This is true Arab hospitality,” said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his juicy + beefsteak. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. “We have + not even seen the host and hostess.” + </p> + <p> + She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her when the + Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. Her room was in + the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, and near the aged deaf + and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake for some time by perplexed + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such circumstances, would + have written to somebody. But ought she to write to Ann Maria or the + Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which had she better write to? She + fully determined to write, the first thing in the morning, to both + parties. But how should she address her letters? Would there be any use in + sending to the Sylvesters’ usual address, which she knew well by this + time, merely to say they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would know + they had not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. + Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where people were + going to, and where to send their letters. She might, at least, write two + letters, to say that they—the Peterkins—had arrived, and were + disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she could add that their + trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their friends might look out for them + on their way. It really seemed a good plan to write. Yet another question + came up, as to how she would get her letters to the post-office, as she + had already learned it was at quite a distance, and in a different + direction from the station, where they were to send the next day for their + trunks. + </p> + <p> + She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the coughing + and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin partition. + </p> + <p> + She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep by the + morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other kind of fowl. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and + declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + </p> + <p> + They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the beach only + in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, which was appointed + at noon. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. “Such a straight road, and the beach + such a safe place to turn round upon!” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to the + station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were probably + left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, might have been + switched off upon one of the White Mountain trains. There was no use to + write any letters, as there was no way to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now + almost hoped the Sylvesters would not come, for what should she do if the + trunks did not come and all her new dresses? On her way over to the beach + she had been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and + cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their time was + spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she would prefer + that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses and the trunks did. + All she could find out, from inquiry, on returning, was, “that another lot + was expected on Saturday.” The next day she suggested:—“Suppose we + take our dinner with us to the beach, and spend the day.” The Sylvesters + and Ann Maria then would find them on the beach, where her + travelling-dress would be quite appropriate. “I am a little tired,” she + added, “of going back and forward over the same road; but when the rest + come we can vary it.” + </p> + <p> + The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys remained to + go over the farm again. + </p> + <p> + They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a ledge of + sand. + </p> + <p> + They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of people + approaching from the other end of the beach. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last,” said Elizabeth + Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + </p> + <p> + As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria Bromwick! And with + her were the Sylvesters,—so they proved to be, for she had never + seen them before. + </p> + <p> + “What! you have come in our absence!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And we have been wondering what had become of you!” cried Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “I thought you would be at the farm before us,” said Elizabeth Eliza to + Mr. + </p> + <p> + Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + </p> + <p> + “We have been looking for you at the farm,” he was saying to her. + </p> + <p> + “But we are at the farm,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “And so are we!” said Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “We have been there two days,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “And so have we, at the ‘Old Farm,’ just at the end of the beach,” said + Ann Maria. + </p> + <p> + “Our farm is old enough,” said Solomon John. + </p> + <p> + “Whereabouts are you?” asked Mr. Sylvester. + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + </p> + <p> + A smile came over Mr. Sylvester’s face; he knew the country well. + </p> + <p> + “You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?” he + asked. + </p> + <p> + The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + </p> + <p> + Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over the faces + of all the party. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is the Poor-house!” she exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “The town farm,” Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + </p> + <p> + The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women there!” said + Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + </p> + <p> + “But we have surely been made very comfortable,” Mrs. Peterkin declared. + </p> + <p> + “A very simple mistake,” said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his amusement. + “Your trunks arrived all right at the ‘Old Farm,’ two days ago.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us go back directly,” said Elizabeth Eliza. + </p> + <p> + “As directly as our horse will allow,” said Agamemnon. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. “Your rooms are awaiting you,” + he said. “Why not come with us?” + </p> + <p> + “We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else,” said Mrs. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, “Do you suppose they + took us for paupers?” + </p> + <p> + “We have not seen any ‘they,’” said Solomon John, “except Mr. Atwood.” + </p> + <p> + At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + </p> + <p> + “I have been looking for you,” he said. “I have just made a discovery.” + </p> + <p> + “We have made it, too,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “we are in the poor-house.” + </p> + <p> + “How did you find it out?” Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been brought to + him from the station, which he ought to have got two days ago. It came + from a Mr. Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his wife + and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to say he + cannot come till Friday. Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the + Peterses, whom he had sent for the day we arrived, not having received + this telegram.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I see, I see!” said Mrs. Peterkin; “and we did get into a muddle at + the station!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. “I beg pardon,” he said. “I hope you + have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you stay till + Mr. Peters’ family comes.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with an open + wagon, to take the Peterkins to the “Old Farm.” + </p> + <p> + Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, “Beg + pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and putting you in + that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to take you off every day + with the other gentlemen, that looked so wandering.” + </p> + <p> + Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till Friday. + But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave with Mr. Sylvester, and + to take their electrical machine and camera when they came for Mr. + Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened once more + by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. There was not much + packing to be done. She shouted good-by into the ears of the deaf old + lady, and waved her hand to the foreign one, and glad to bid farewell to + the old men with their pipes, leaning against the porch. + </p> + <p> + “This time,” she said, “it is not our trunks that were lost” + </p> + <p> + “But we, as a family,” said Mrs. Peterkin. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Peterkin Papers, by Lucretia P. 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If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain etexts, and royalty free copyright licenses. +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.07.00*END* + +Prepared by David Reed haradda@aol.com or davidr@inconnect.com + + +The Peterkin Papers +By Lucretia P. Hale + + +Mrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee. + +Dedicated +To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia) +To Whom These Stories Were First Told + +The Peterkin Papers +By Lucretia P. Hale + +Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers + +THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor +for the "Young Folks." They were afterwards continued in +numbers of the "St. Nicholas." + +A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which +has never before been published, "The Peterkins at the Farm." + +It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated about +publishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the +matter to the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether +she might happen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write +and ask her. + +Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, +and everybody would read it as it came along, and see its +importance, and help it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were +away, her family and all her servants would read it, and send it +after her, for answer. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take +so long to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But +could they get the whole subject on a postal? + +Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but +one question: + +Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published? + +This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family +to sign, the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches +of their india-rubber boots. + +Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card +to the post-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that +very day, and all the next day, and for many days, came streaming +in answers on postals and on letters. Their card had been +addressed to the lady from Philadelphia, with the number of her +street. But it must have been read by their neighbors in their own +town post-office before leaving; it must have been read along its +way: for by each mail came piles of postals and letters from town +after town, in answer to the question, and all in the same tone: +"Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family." + +"Publish them, of course." + +And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia: +"Yes, of course; publish them." + +This is why they were published. + + CONTENTS. THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE +13 ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA'S PIANO 21 THE +PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE 24 MRS. PETERKIN +WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE 29 THE PETERKINS AT HOME +33 WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER 36 +THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY 41 THE +PETERKINS SNOWED-UP 48 THE PETERKINS DECIDE +TO KEEP A COW 56 THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE +63 MRS. PETERKINS TEA-PARTY 72 THE PETERKINS +TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION 82 THE PETERKINS +CELEBRATE THE "FOURTH" 90 THE PETERKINS' PICNIC +104 THE PETERKINS' CHARADES 114 THE PETERKINS +ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE 124 THE PETERKINS DECIDE +TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES 136 MODERN +IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS' 148 +AGAMEMNON'S CAREER 160 THE EDUCATIONAL +BREAKFAST 172 THE PETERKINS AT THE "CARNIVAL +OF AUTHORS" IN BOSTON 188 THE PETERKINS AT THE +FARM 206 + +THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. THIS was Mrs. +Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a delicious cup of +coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she found she +had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do? +Of course she couldn't drink the coffee; so she called in the +family, for she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family +came in; they all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be +done, and all sat down to think. + +At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, " Why don't +we go over and ask the advice of the chemist? " (For the chemist +lived over the way, and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin +said, "Yes," and Mr. Peterkin said, "Very well," and all the +children said they would go too. So the little boys put on their +india-rubber boots, and over they went. + +Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which +should turn everything it touched into gold; and he had a large +glass bottle into which he put all kinds of gold and silver, and +many other valuable things, and melted them all up over the fire, +till he had almost found what he wanted. He could turn things +into almost gold. But just now he had used up all the gold that he +had round the house, and gold was high. He had used up his wife's +gold thimble and his great-grandfather's gold-bowed spectacles; +and he had melted up the gold head of his +great-great-grandfather's cane; and, just as the Peterkin family +came in, he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to +let him have her wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because +this time he knew he should succeed, and should be able to turn +everything into gold; and then she could have a new wedding-ring +of diamonds, all set in emeralds and rubies and topazes, and all +the furniture could be turned into the finest of gold. + +Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst +in. You can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near +throwing his cruciblethat was the name of his melting-potat their +heads. But he didn't. He listened as calmly as he could to the story +of how Mrs. Peterkin had put salt in her coffee. + +At first he said he couldn't do anything about it; but when +Agamemnon said they would pay in gold if he would only go, he +packed up his bottles in a leather case, and went back with them +all. + + First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in a +little chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but it +tasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia. +But Mrs. Peterkin didn't like that. Then he added some tartaric +acid and some hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. "I +have it!" exclaimed the chemist,"a little ammonia is just the +thing!" No, it wasn't the thing at all. + +Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, +phosphoric, chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, +nitric, formic, nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin +tasted each, and said the flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that +of coffee. So then he tried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and +strontium, a little clear bitumen, and a half of a third of a +sixteenth of a grain of arsenic. This gave rather a pretty color; but +still Mrs. + +Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The +chemist was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and +atropine, some granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little +antimony, finishing off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. +Peterkin was not satisfied. + +The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the +salt. The theory remained the same, although the experiment had +failed. Perhaps a little starch would have some effect. If not, that +was all the time he could give. He should like to be paid, and go. +They were all much obliged to him, and willing to give him $1.37 +1/2 in gold. Gold was now 2.69 3/4, so Mr. Peterkin found in the +newspaper. This gave Agamemnon a pretty little sum. He sat +himself down to do it. But there was the coffee! All sat and +thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said, "Why don't we go to the +herb-woman?" Elizabeth Eliza was the only daughter. She was +named after her two aunts,Elizabeth, from the sister of her father; +Eliza, from her mother's sister. Now, the herb-woman was an old +woman who came round to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. +They all shouted with joy at the idea of asking her, and Solomon +John and the younger children agreed to go and find her too. The +herb-woman lived down at the very end of the street; so the boys +put on their india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It was a +long walk through the village, but they came at last to the +herb-woman's house, at the foot of a high hill. They went through +her little garden. Here she had marigolds and hollyhocks, and old +maids and tall sunflowers, and all kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, +so that the air was full of tansy-tea and elder-blow. Over the porch +grew a hop-vine, and a brandy-cherry tree shaded the door, and a +luxuriant cranberry-vine flung its delicious fruit across the +window. They went into a small parlor, which smelt very spicy. +All around hung little bags full of catnip, and peppermint, and all +kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the ceiling; and on the +shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the like. + + But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the +woods to get some more wild herbs, so they all thought they +would follow her,Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little +boys. They had to climb up over high rocks, and in among +huckleberry-bushes and black berry-vines. But the little boys had +their india-rubber boots. At last they discovered the little old +woman. They knew her by her hat. It was steeple-crowned, +without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel round a +sassafras bush. They told her their story,how their mother had put +salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead +of better, and how their mother couldn't drink it, and wouldn't she +come and see what she could do? And she said she would, and +took up her little old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with +everlasting and pennyroyal, and went back to her house. + + There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all +the kinds of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and +caraway-seed and dill, spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and +sweet marjoram, basil and rosemary, wild thyme and some of the +other time,such as you have in clocks,sappermint and oppermint, +catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed, there isn't a kind of herb you can +think of that the little old woman didn't have done up in her little +paper bags, that had all been dried in her little Dutch-oven. She +packed these all up, and then went back with the children, taking +her stick. + +Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her +coffee. + +As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, +and began to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop +for the bitter. Mrs. + +Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Then +she tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, +and some caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some +sweet marjoram and sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little +spearmint and peppermint, some wild thyme, and some of the +other tame time, some tansy and basil, and catnip and valerian, and +sassafras, ginger, and pennyroyal. The children tasted after each +mixture, but made up dreadful faces. Mrs. Peterkin tasted, and did +the same. The more the old woman stirred, and the more she put +in, the worse it all seemed to taste. + + So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and +said she must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She +bundled up her packets of herbs, and took her trowel, and her +basket, and her stick, and went back to her root of sassafras, that +she had left half in the air and half out. And all she would take for +pay was five cents in currency. + +Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great +while. It was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn't had +her cup of coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, "They say that the +lady from Philadelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. +Suppose I go and ask her what is best to be done." To this they all +agreed, it was a great thought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went. + + She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,how her +mother had put salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called +in; how he tried everything but could make it no better; and how +they went for the little old herb-woman, and how she had tried in +vain, for her mother couldn't drink the coffee. The lady from +Philadelphia listened very attentively, and then said, "Why doesn't +your mother make a fresh cup of coffee?" Elizabeth Eliza started +with surprise. + +Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just +finished his sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. +"Why didn't we think of that?" said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all +went back to their mother, and she had her cup of coffee. + + ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA'S PIANO. ELIZABETH ELIZA +had a present of a piano, and she was to take lessons of the +postmaster's daughter. + +They decided to have the piano set across the window in the +parlor, and the carters brought it in, and went away. + +After they had gone the family all came in to look at the piano; but +they found the carters had placed it with its back turned towards +the middle of the room, standing close against the window. + + How could Elizabeth Eliza open it? How could she reach the keys +to play upon it? + +Solomon John proposed that they should open the window, which +Agamemnon could do with his long arms. Then Elizabeth Eliza +should go round upon the piazza, and open the piano. Then she +could have her music-stool on the piazza, and play upon the piano +there. + +So they tried this; and they all thought it was a very pretty sight to +see Elizabeth Eliza playing on the piano, while she sat on the +piazza, with the honeysuckle vines behind her. + +It was very pleasant, too, moonlight evenings. Mr. Peterkin liked +to take a doze on his sofa in the room; but the rest of the family +liked to sit on the piazza. + +So did Elizabeth Eliza, only she had to have her back to the moon. + +All this did very well through the summer; but, when the fall +came, Mr. Peterkin thought the air was too cold from the open +window, and the family did not want to sit out on the piazza. + + Elizabeth Eliza practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but +she was obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family +shivered so. + +One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, +she spoke of this trouble. + +The lady from Philadelphia looked surprised, and then said, "But +why don't you turn the piano round?" + +One of the little boys pertly said, "It is a square piano." + +But Elizabeth Eliza went home directly, and, with the help of +Agamemnon and Solomon John, turned the piano round. + +"Why did we not think of that before?" said Mrs. Peterkin. "What +shall we do when the lady from Philadelphia goes home again?" + + THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. THEY were +sitting round the breakfast-table, and wondering what they should +do because the lady from Philadelphia had gone away. "If," said +Mrs. Peterkin, "we could only be more wise as a family!" How +could they manage it? Agamemnon had been to college, and the +children all went to school; but still as a family they were not +wise. "It comes from books," said one of the family. "People who +have a great many books are very wise." Then they counted up +that there were very few books in the house,a few school-books +and Mrs. Peterkin's cook-book were all. + +"That's the thing!" said Agamemnon. "We want a library." + + "We want a library!" said Solomon John. And all of them +exclaimed, "We want a library!" + +"Let us think how we shall get one," said Mrs. Peterkin. "I have +observed that other people think a great deal of thinking." + +So they all sat and thought a great while. + +Then said Agamemnon, "I will make a library. There are some +boards in the wood-shed, and I have a hammer and some nails , +and perhaps we can borrow some hinges, and there we have our +library!" + +They were all very much pleased at the idea. + +"That's the book-case part," said Elizabeth Eliza; "but where are +the books?" + + So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John +exclaimed, "I will make a book!" + +They all looked at him in wonder. + +"Yes," said Solomon John, "books will make us wise, but first I +must make a book." + +So they went into the parlor, and sat down to make a book. But +there was no ink. + +What should he do for ink? Elizabeth Eliza said she had heard that +nutgalls and vinegar made very good ink. So they decided to make +some. The little boys said they could find some nutgalls up in the +woods. So they all agreed to set out and pick some. Mrs. Peterkins +put on her cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their +india-rubber boots, and off they went. + +The nutgalls were hard to find. There was almost everything else +in the woods,chestnuts, and walnuts, and small hazel-nuts, and a +great many squirrels; and they had to walk a great way before they +found any nutgalls. At last they came home with a large basket +and two nutgalls in it. Then came the question of the vinegar. Mrs. +Peterkin had used her very last on some beets they had the day +before. "Suppose we go and ask the minister's wife," said Elizabeth +Eliza. So they all went to the minister's wife. She said if they +wanted some good vinegar they had better set a barrel of cider +down in the cellar, and in a year or two it would make very nice +vinegar. But they said they wanted it that very afternoon. When +the minister's wife heard this, she said she should be very glad to +let them have some vinegar, and gave them a cupful to carry home. + +So they stirred in the nutgalls, and by the time evening came they +had very good ink. + + Then Solomon John wanted a pen. Agamemnon had a steel one, +but Solomon John said, "Poets always used quills." Elizabeth +Eliza suggested that they should go out to the poultry-yard and get +a quill. But it was already dark. They had, however, two lanterns, +and the little boys borrowed the neighbors'. They set out in +procession for the poultry-yard. When they got there, the fowls +were all at roost, so they could look at them quietly. + + SOLOMON JOHN'S BOOK. But there were no geese! There were +Shanghais and Cochin-Chinas, and Guinea hens, and Barbary +hens, and speckled hens, and Poland roosters, and bantams, and +ducks, and turkeys, but not one goose! "No geese but ourselves," +said Mrs. + +Peterkin, wittily, as they returned to the house. The sight of this +procession roused up the village. "A torchlight procession!" cried +all the boys of the town; and they gathered round the house, +shouting for the flag; and Mr. Peterkin had to invite them in, and +give them cider and gingerbread, before he could explain to them +that it was only his family visiting his hens. + + After the crowd had dispersed, Solomon John sat down to think of +his writing again. Agamemnon agreed to go over to the bookstore +to get a quill. They all went over with him. The bookseller was +just shutting up his shop. However, he agreed to go in and get a +quill, which he did, and they hurried home. + +So Solomon John sat down again, but there was no paper. And +now the bookstore was shut up. Mr. Peterkin suggested that the +mail was about in, and perhaps he should have a letter, and then +they could use the envelope to write upon. So they all went to the +post-office, and the little boys had their india-rubber boots on, and +they all shouted when they found Mr. Peterkin had a letter. The +postmaster inquired what they were shouting about; and when they +told him, he said he would give Solomon John a whole sheet of +paper for his book. And they all went back rejoicing. + + So Solomon John sat down, and the family all sat round the table +looking at him. He had his pen, his ink, and his paper. He dipped +his pen into the ink and held it over the paper, and thought a +minute, and then said, "But I haven't got anything to say." + + MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. ONE morning +Mrs. Peterkin was feeling very tired, as she had been having a +great many things to think of, and she said to Mr. Peterkin, "I +believe I shall take a ride this morning!" + +And the little boys cried out, "Oh, may we go too?" + +Mrs. Peterkin said that Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys might go. + +So Mr. Peterkin had the horse put into the carryall, and he and +Agamemnon went off to their business, and Solomon John to +school; and Mrs. Peterkin began to get ready for her ride. + +She had some currants she wanted to carry to old Mrs. Twomly, +and some gooseberries for somebody else, and Elizabeth Eliza +wanted to pick some flowers to take to the minister's wife, so it +took them a long time to prepare. + +The little boys went out to pick the currants and the gooseberries, +and Elizabeth Eliza went out for her flowers, and Mrs. Peterkin +put on her cape-bonnet, and in time they were all ready. The little +boys were in their india-rubber boots, and they got into the +carriage. + + Elizabeth Eliza was to drive; so she sat on the front seat, and took +up the reins, and the horse started off merrily, and then suddenly +stopped, and would not go any farther. + +Elizabeth Eliza shook the reins, and pulled them, and then she +clucked to the horse; and Mrs. Peterkin clucked; and the little +boys whistled and shouted; but still the horse would not go. + +"We shall have to whip him," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +Now Mrs. Peterkin never liked to use the whip; but, as the horse +would not go, she said she would get out and turn her head the +other way, while Elizabeth Eliza whipped the horse, and when he +began to go she would hurry and get in. + +So they tried this, but the horse would not stir. + +"Perhaps we have too heavy a load," said Mrs. Peterkin, as she got +in. + +So they took out the currants and the gooseberries and the flowers, +but still the horse would not go. + +One of the neighbors, from the opposite house, looking out just +then, called out to them to try the whip. There was a high wind, +and they could not hear exactly what she said. + +"I have tried the whip," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"She says 'whips,' such as you eat," said one of the little boys. + +"We might make those," said Mrs. Peterkin, thoughtfully. + +"We have got plenty of cream," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Yes, let us have some whips," cried the little boys, getting out. + +And the opposite neighbor cried out something about whips; and +the wind was very high. + +So they went into the kitchen, and whipped up the cream, and +made some very delicious whips; and the little boys tasted all +round, and they all thought they were very nice. + +They carried some out to the horse, who swallowed it down very +quickly. + + "That is just what he wanted," said Mrs. Peterkin; "now he will +certainly go!" + +So they all got into the carriage again, and put in the currants and +the gooseberries and the flowers; and Elizabeth Eliza shook the +reins, and they all clucked; but still the horse would not go! + +"We must either give up our ride," said Mrs. Peterkin, mournfully, +"or else send over to the lady from Philadelphia, and see what she +will say." + +The little boys jumped out as quickly as they could; they were +eager to go and ask the lady from Philadelphia. Elizabeth Eliza +went with them, while her mother took the reins. + + They found that the lady from Philadelphia was very ill that day, +and was in her bed. But when she was told what the trouble was, +she very kindly said they might draw up the curtain from the +window at the foot of the bed, and open the blinds, and she would +see. Then she asked for her opera-glass, and looked through it, +across the way, up the street, to Mrs. Peterkin's door. + +After she had looked through the glass, she laid it down, leaned +her head back against the pillow, for she was very tired, and then +said, "Why don't you unchain the horse from the horse-post?" + +Elizabeth Eliza and the little boys looked at one another, and then +hurried back to the house and told their mother. The horse was +untied, and they all went to ride. + + THE PETERKINS AT HOME. AT DINNER. ANOTHER little +incident occurred in the Peterkin family. This was at dinner-time. + + They sat down to a dish of boiled ham. Now it was a peculiarity of +the children of the family, that half of them liked fat, and half +liked lean. Mr. Peterkin sat down to cut the ham. But the ham +turned out to be a very remarkable one. The fat and the lean came +in separate slices,first one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices +of lean, and so on. Mr. Peterkin began as usual by helping the +children first, according to their age. Now Agamemnon, who liked +lean, got a fat slice; and Elizabeth Eliza, who preferred fat, had a +lean slice. Solomon John, who could eat nothing but lean, was +helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had what he could eat. + +It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of +the vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the +children saw upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato +and sweet potato and sour potato, not one of them could eat a +mouthful, because not one was satisfied with the meat. Mr. and +Mrs. Peterkin, however, liked both fat and lean, and were making +a very good meal, when they looked up and saw the children all +sitting eating nothing, and looking dissatisfied into their plates. + +"What is the matter now?" said Mr. Peterkin. + +But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon, +however, made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at +her lean, and so on, and they presently discovered what was the +difficulty. + +"What shall be done now?" said Mrs. Peterkin. + +They all sat and thought for a little while. + +At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, "Suppose we ask the +lady from Philadelphia what is best to be done." + +But Mr. Peterkin said he didn't like to go to her for everything; let +the children try and eat their dinner as it was. + +And they all tried, but they couldn't. "Very well, then." said Mr. +Peterkin, "let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia." + +"All of us?" cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the +moment. + + "Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin, "only put on your india-rubber boots." +And they hurried out of the house. + +The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she +kindly stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. +Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the +lady from Philadelphia said, "But why don't you give the slices of +fat to those who like the fat, and the slices of lean to those who +like the lean?" + +They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth +Eliza, and Solomon John looked at the little boys. "Why didn't we +think of that?" said they, and ran home to tell their mother. + + WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. THE trouble +was in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the +dinner-table, and Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had +sent up from the kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was +the matter; she could not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she +could not reach it. All the family, in turn, went and tried; all +pulled together, in vain;the dinner could not be stirred. + +"No dinner!" exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"I am quite hungry," said Solomon John. + +At last Mr. Peterkin said, "I am not proud. I am willing to dine in +the kitchen." + +This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each +one went down, taking a napkin. + +The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and +the family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the +dinner, but she could not move it down. + +The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way +between the kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all +hungry to eat it! + + "What is there for dinner?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"Roast turkey," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling. + +"Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato," Mrs. Peterkin +continued. + +"Sweet potato!" exclaimed both the little boys. + +"I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry," said Mrs. +Peterkin, anxious to find a bright point. + +"Let us sit down and think about it," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"I have an idea," said Agamemnon, after a while. + +"Let us hear it," said Mr. Peterkin. "Let each one speak his mind." + +"The turkey," said Agamemnon, "must be just above the kitchen +door. If I had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering +and reach it." + +"That is a great idea," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"If you think you could do it," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Would it not be better to have a carpenter?" asked Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have +neither," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"A carpenter! A carpenter!" exclaimed the rest. + +It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John, and the little boys +should go in search of a carpenter. + +Agamemnon proposed that, meanwhile, he should go and borrow a +book; for he had another idea. + +"This affair of the turkey," he said, "reminds me of those buried +cities that have been dug out,Herculaneum, for instance." + +"Oh, yes," interrupted Elizabeth Eliza, "and Pompeii." + + "Yes," said Agamemnon, "they found there pots and kettles. Now, +I should like to know how they did it; and I mean to borrow a +book and read. I think it was done with a pickaxe." + +So the party set out. But when Mr. Peterkin reached the carpenter's +shop, there was no carpenter to be found there. + +"He must be at his house, eating his dinner," suggested Solomon +John. + +"Happy man," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, "he has a dinner to eat!" + +They went to the carpenter's house, but found he had gone out of +town for a day's job. But his wife told them that he always came +back at night to ring the nine-o'clock bell. + +"We must wait till then," said Mr. Peterkin, with an effort at +cheerfulness. + +At home he found Agamemnon reading his book, and all sat down +to hear of Herculaneum and Pompeii. + +Time passed on, and the question arose about tea. Would it do to +have tea when they had had no dinner? A part of the family +thought it would not do; the rest wanted tea. + +"I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadelphia, who was +here not long ago," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Oh, yes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Let us try to think what she would advise us," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"I wish she were here," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"I think," said Mr. Peterkin, "she would say, let them that want tea +have it; the rest can go without." + +So they had tea, and, as it proved, all sat down to it. But not much +was eaten, as there had been no dinner. + +When the nine-o'clock bell was heard, Agamemnon, Solomon +John, and the little boys rushed to the church, and found the +carpenter. + +They asked him to bring a ladder, axes and pickaxe. As he felt it +might be a case of fire, he brought also his fire-buckets. + +When the matter was explained to him, he went into the +dining-room, looked into the dumb-waiter, untwisted a cord, and +arranged the weight, and pulled up the dinner. + +There was a family shout. + +"The trouble was in the weight," said the carpenter. + +"That is why it is called a dumb-waiter," Solomon John explained +to the little boys. + +The dinner was put upon the table. + +Mrs. Peterkin frugally suggested that they might now keep it for +the next day, as to-day was almost gone, and they had had tea. + +But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast turkey; and Amanda +warmed over the vegetables. + +"Patient waiters are no losers," said Agamemnon. + + THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY. IN fact, it was their +last summer's journeyfor it had been planned then; but there had +been so many difficulties, it had been delayed. + +The first trouble had been about trunks. The family did not own a +trunk suitable for travelling. + +Agamemnon had his valise, that he had used when he stayed a +week at a time at the academy; and a trunk had been bought for +Elizabeth Eliza when she went to the seminary. Solomon John and +Mr. Peterkin, each had his patent-leather hand-bag. But all these +were too small for the family. And the little boys wanted to carry +their kite. + +Mrs. Peterkin suggested her grandmother's trunk. This was a +hair-trunk, very large and capacious. It would hold everything they +would want to carry, except what would go in Elizabeth Eliza's +trunk, or the valise and bags. + +Everybody was delighted at this idea. It was agreed that the next +day the things should be brought into Mrs. Peterkin's room, for her +to see if they could all be packed. + +"If we can get along," said Elizabeth Eliza, "without having to ask +advice, I shall be glad!" + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "It is time now for people to be coming +to ask advice of us." + + The next morning Mrs. Peterkin began by taking out the things +that were already in the trunk. Here were last year's winter things, +and not only these, but old clothes that had been put away,Mrs. +Peterkin's wedding-dress; the skirts the little boys used to wear +before they put on jackets and trousers. + +All day Mrs. Peterkin worked over the trunk, putting away the old +things, putting in the new. She packed up all the clothes she could +think of, both summer and winter ones, because you never can tell +what sort of weather you will have. + +Agamemnon fetched his books, and Solomon John his spy-glass. +There were her own and Elizabeth Eliza's best bonnets in a +bandbox; also Solomon John's hats, for he had an old one and a +new one. He bought a new hat for fishing, with a very wide brim +and deep crown; all of heavy straw. + +Agamemnon brought down a large heavy dictionary, and an atlas +still larger. This contained maps of all the countries in the world. + +"I have never had a chance to look at them," he said; "but when +one travels, then is the time to study geography." + + Mr. Peterkin wanted to take his turning-lathe. So Mrs. Peterkin +packed his tool-chest. It gave her some trouble, for it came to her +just as she had packed her summer dresses. At first she thought it +would help to smooth the dresses, and placed it on top; but she +was forced to take all out, and set it at the bottom. This was not so +much matter, as she had not yet the right dresses to put in. Both +Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza would need new dresses for this +occasion. The little boys' hoops went in; so did their india-rubber +boots, in case it should not rain when they started. They each had +a hoe and shovel, and some baskets, that were packed. + +Mrs. Peterkin called in all the family on the evening of the second +day to see how she had succeeded. Everything was packed, even +the little boys' kite lay smoothly on the top. + +"I like to see a thing so nicely done," said Mr. Peterkin. + +The next thing was to cord up the trunk, and Mr. Peterkin tried to +move it. But neither he, nor Agamemnon, nor Solomon John +could lift it alone, or all together. + +Here was a serious difficulty. Solomon John tried to make light of +it. + +"Expressmen could lift it. Expressmen were used to such things." + +"But we did not plan expressing it," said Mrs. Peterkin, in a +discouraged tone. + +"We can take a carriage," said Solomon John. + + "I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back of a carriage," +said Mrs. + +Peterkin. + +"The hackman could not lift it, either," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"People do travel with a great deal of baggage," said Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"And with very large trunks," said Agamemnon. + +"Still they are trunks that can be moved," said Mr. Peterkin, giving +another try at the trunk in vain. "I am afraid we must give it up," +he said; "it would be such a trouble in going from place to place." + +"We would not mind if we got it to the place," said Elizabeth +Eliza. + +"But how to get it there?" Mr. Peterkin asked, with a sigh. + +"This is our first obstacle," said Agamemnon; "we must do our +best to conquer it." + +"What is an obstacle?" asked the little boys. + +"It is the trunk," said Solomon John. + +"Suppose we look out the word in the dictionary," said +Agamemnon, taking the large volume from the trunk. "Ah, here it +is" And he read: "OBSTACLE, an impediment." + +"That is a worse word than the other," said one of the little boys. + +"But listen to this," and Agamemnon continued: "Impediment is +something that entangles the feet; obstacle, something that stands +in the way; obstruction, something that blocks up the passage; +hinderance, something that holds back." + +"The trunk is all these," said Mr. Peterkin, gloomily. + +"It does not entangle the feet," said Solomon John, "for it can't +move." + +"I wish it could," said the little boys together. + +Mrs. Peterkin spent a day or two in taking the things out of the +trunk and putting them away. + +"At least," she said, "this has given me some experience in +packing." + +And the little boys felt as if they had quite been a journey. + +But the family did not like to give up their plan. It was suggested +that they might take the things out of the trunk, and pack it at the +station; the little boys could go and come with the things. But +Elizabeth Eliza thought the place too public. + +Gradually the old contents of the great trunk went back again to it. + +At length a friend unexpectedly offered to lend Mr. Peterkin a +good-sized family trunk. But it was late in the season, and so the +journey was put off from that summer. + +But now the trunk was sent round to the house, and a family +consultation was held about packing it. Many things would have +to be left at home, it was so much smaller than the grandmother's +hair-trunk. But Agamemnon had been studying the atlas through +the winter, and felt familiar with the more important places, so it +would not be necessary to take it. And Mr. Peterkin decided to +leave his turning-lathe at home, and his tool-chest. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin spent two days in accommodating the things. +With great care and discretion, and by borrowing two more +leather bags, it could be accomplished. Everything of importance +could be packed, except the little boys' kite. What should they do +about that? + +The little boys proposed carrying it in their hands; but Solomon +John and Elizabeth Eliza would not consent to this. + +"I do think it is one of the cases where we might ask the advice of +the lady from Philadelphia," said Mrs. Peterkin, at last. + +"She has come on here," said Agamemnon, "and we have not been +to see her this summer." + +"She may think we have been neglecting her," suggested Mr. +Peterkin. + +The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask her opinion +about the kite. + +They came back in high spirits. + +"She says we might leave this one at home, and make a new kite +when we get there," they cried. + +"What a sensible idea!" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin; "and I may have +leisure to help you." + +"We'll take plenty of newspapers," said Solomon John. + +"And twine," said the little boys. And this matter was settled. + +The question then was, "When should they go?" + + THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. MRS. PETERKIN awoke one +morning to find a heavy snow-storm raging. The wind had flung +the snow against the windows, had heaped it up around the house, +and thrown it into huge white drifts over the fields, covering +hedges and fences. + +Mrs. Peterkin went from one window to the other to look out; but +nothing could be seen but the driving storm and the deep white +snow. Even Mr. Bromwick's house, on the opposite side of the +street, was hidden by the swift-falling flakes. + + "What shall I do about it?" thought Mrs. Peterkin. "No roads +cleared out! Of course there'll be no butcher and no milkman !" + +The first thing to be done was to wake up all the family early; for +there was enough in the house for breakfast, and there was no +knowing when they would have anything more to eat. + +It was best to secure the breakfast first. + + So she went from one room to the other, as soon as it was light, +waking the family, and before long all were dressed and +downstairs. + +And then all went round the house to see what had happened. + +All the water-pipes that there were were frozen. The milk was +frozen. They could open the door into the wood-house; but the +wood-house door into the yard was banked up with snow; and the +front door, and the piazza door, and the side door stuck. Nobody +could get in or out! + + Meanwhile, Amanda, the cook, had succeeded in making the +kitchen fire, but had discovered there was no furnace coal. + +"The furnace coal was to have come to-day," said Mrs. Peterkin, +apologetically. + +"Nothing will come to-day," said Mr. Peterkin, shivering. + +But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. + + All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot coffee. The little +boys were much pleased to have "ice-cream" for breakfast. + +"When we get a little warm," said Mr. Peterkin, "we will consider +what is to be done." + +"I am thankful I ordered the sausages yesterday," said Mrs. +Peterkin. "I was to have had a leg of mutton to-day." + +"Nothing will come to-day," said Agamemnon, gloomily. + +"Are these sausages the last meat in the house?" asked Mr. +Peterkin. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The potatoes also were gone, the barrel of apples empty, and she +had meant to order more flour that very day. + +"Then we are eating our last provisions," said Solomon John, +helping himself to another sausage. + +"I almost wish we had stayed in bed," said Agamemnon. + +"I thought it best to make sure of our breakfast first," repeated Mrs. +Peterkin. + + "Shall we literally have nothing left to eat?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +"There's the pig!" suggested Solomon John. + +Yes, happily, the pigsty was at the end of the wood-house, and +could be reached under cover. + +But some of the family could not eat fresh pork. + +"We should have to 'corn' part of him," said Agamemnon. + +"My butcher has always told me," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that if I +wanted a ham I must keep a pig. Now we have the pig, but have +not the ham!" + +"Perhaps we could 'corn' one or two of his legs," suggested one of +the little boys. + + "We need not settle that now," said Mr. Peterkin. "At least the pig +will keep us from starving." + +The little boys looked serious; they were fond of their pig. + +"If we had only decided to keep a cow," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Alas! yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "one learns a great many things too +late!" + +"Then we might have had ice-cream all the time!" exclaimed the +little boys. + +Indeed, the little boys, in spite of the prospect of starving, were +quite pleasantly excited at the idea of being snowed-up, and +hurried through their breakfasts that they might go and try to +shovel out a path from one of the doors. + +"I ought to know more about the water-pipes," said Mr. Peterkin. +"Now, I shut off the water last night in the bath-room, or else I +forgot to; and I ought to have shut it off in the cellar." + +The little boys came back. Such a wind at the front door, they were +going to try the side door. + +"Another thing I have learned to-day," said Mr. Peterkin, "is not to +have all the doors on one side of the house, because the storm +blows the snow against all the doors." + +Solomon John started up. + +"Let us see if we are blocked up on the east side of the house!" he +exclaimed. + +"Of what use," asked Mr. Peterkin, "since we have no door on the +east side?" + +"We could cut one," said Solomon John. + +"Yes, we could cut a door," exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"But how can we tell whether there is any snow there?" asked +Elizabeth Eliza,"for there is no window." + +In fact, the east side of the Peterkins' house formed a blank wall. +The owner had originally planned a little block of semi-detached +houses. He had completed only one, very semi and very detached. + +"It is not necessary to see," said Agamemnon, profoundly; "of +course, if the storm blows against this side of the house, the house +itself must keep the snow from the other side." + + "Yes," said Solomon John, "there must be a space clear of snow +on the east side of the house, and if we could open a way to that " +"We could open a way to the butcher," said Mr. Peterkin, +promptly. + +Agamemnon went for his pick-axe. He had kept one in the house +ever since the adventure of the dumb-waiter. + +"What part of the wall had we better attack?" asked Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was alarmed. + +"What will Mr. Mudge, the owner of the house, think of it?" she +exclaimed. "Have we a right to injure the wall of the house?" + +"It is right to preserve ourselves from starving," said Mr. Peterkin. +"The drowning man must snatch at a straw!" + + "It is better that he should find his house chopped a little when the +thaw comes," said Elizabeth Eliza, "than that he should find us +lying about the house, dead of hunger, upon the floor." + +Mrs. Peterkin was partially convinced. + +The little boys came in to warm their hands. They had not +succeeded in opening the side door, and were planning trying to +open the door from the wood-house to the garden. + +"That would be of no use," said Mrs. Peterkin, "the butcher cannot +get into the garden." + + "But we might shovel off the snow," suggested one of the little +boys, "and dig down to some of last year's onions." + +Meanwhile, Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John had +been bringing together their carpenter's tools, and Elizabeth Eliza +proposed using a gouge, if they would choose the right spot to +begin. + +The little boys were delighted with the plan, and hastened to +find,one, a little hatchet, and the other a gimlet. Even Amanda +armed herself with a poker. + + "It would be better to begin on the ground floor," said Mr. +Peterkin. + +"Except that we may meet with a stone foundation," said Solomon +John. + +"If the wall is thinner upstairs," said Agamemnon, "it will do as +well to cut a window as a door, and haul up anything the butcher +may bring below in his cart." + + Everybody began to pound a little on the wall to find a favorable +place, and there was a great deal of noise. The little boys actually +cut a bit out of the plastering with their hatchet and gimlet. +Solomon John confided to Elizabeth Eliza that it reminded him of +stories of prisoners who cut themselves free, through stone walls, +after days and days of secret labor. + + Mrs. Peterkin, even, had come with a pair of tongs in her hand. +She was interrupted by a voice behind her. + +"Here's your leg of mutton, marm!" + +It was the butcher. How had he got in? + +"Excuse me, marm, for coming in at the side door, but the back +gate is kinder blocked up. You were making such a pounding I +could not make anybody hear me knock at the side door." + +"But how did you make a path to the door?" asked Mr. Peterkin. +"You must have been working at it a long time. It must be near +noon now." + + "I'm about on regular time," answered the butcher. "The town +team has cleared out the high road, and the wind has been down +the last half-hour. The storm is over." + +True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they +had not noticed the ceasing of the storm outside. + +"And we were all up an hour earlier than usual," said Mr. Peterkin, +when the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he +had a pickaxe in his hand. + +"If we had lain abed till the usual time," said Solomon John, "we +should have been all right." + +"For here is the milkman!" said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was +now heard at the side door. + +"It is a good thing to learn," said Mr. Peterkin, "not to get up any +earlier than is necessary." + + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. NOT that they +were fond of drinking milk, nor that they drank very much. But +for that reason Mr. Peterkin thought it would be well to have a +cow, to encourage the family to drink more, as he felt it would be +so healthy. + +Mrs. Peterkin recalled the troubles of the last cold winter, and how +near they came to starving, when they were shut up in a severe +snow-storm, and the water-pipes burst, and the milk was frozen. If +the cow-shed could open out of the wood-shed, such trouble might +be prevented. + +Tony Larkin was to come over and milk the cow every morning, +and Agamemnon and Solomon John agreed to learn how to milk, +in case Tony should be "snowed up," or have the whooping-cough +in the course of the winter. The little boys thought they knew how +already. + +But if they were to have three or four pailfuls of milk every day, it +was important to know where to keep it. + +"One way will be," said Mrs. Peterkin, "to use a great deal every +day. We will make butter." + +"That will be admirable," thought Mr. Peterkin. + +"And custards," suggested Solomon John. + +"And syllabub," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And cocoa-nut cakes," exclaimed the little boys. + +"We don't need the milk for cocoa-nut cakes," said Mrs. Peterkin. + + The little boys thought they might have a cocoa-nut tree instead of +a cow. You could have the milk from the cocoa-nuts, and it would +be pleasant climbing the tree, and you would not have to feed it. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "we shall have to feed the cow." + +"Where shall we pasture her?" asked Agamemnon. + +"Up on the hills, up on the hills," exclaimed the little boys, "where +there are a great many bars to take down, and huckleberry-bushes! +" + +Mr. Peterkin had been thinking of their own little lot behind the +house. + +"But I don't know," he said, "but the cow might eat off all the grass +in one day, and there would not be any left for to-morrow, unless +the grass grew fast enough every night." + +Agamemnon said it would depend upon the season. In a rainy +season the grass would come up very fast, in a drought it might +not grow at all. + +"I suppose," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that is the worst of having a +cow,there might be a drought." + +Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calculation from the +quantity of grass in the lot. + +Solomon John suggested that measurements might be made by +seeing how much grass the Bromwicks' cow, opposite them, eat +up in a day. + + The little boys agreed to go over and spend the day on the +Bromwicks' fence, and take an observation. + +"The trouble would be," said Elizabeth Eliza, "that cows walk +about so, and the Bromwicks' yard is very large. Now she would +be eating in one place, and then she would walk to another. She +would not be eating all the time, a part of the time she would be +chewing." + +The little boys thought they should like nothing better than to have +some sticks, and keep the cow in one corner of the yard till the +calculations were made. + +But Elizabeth Eliza was afraid the Bromwicks would not like it. + +"Of course, it would bring all the boys in the school about the +place, and very likely they would make the cow angry." + +Agamemnon recalled that Mr. Bromwick once wanted to hire Mr. +Peterkin's lot for his cow. + +Mr. Peterkin started up. + +"That is true; and of course Mr. Bromwick must have known there +was feed enough for one cow." + +"And the reason you didn't let him have it," said Solomon John, +"was that Elizabeth Eliza was afraid of cows." + + "I did not like the idea," said Elizabeth Eliza, "of their cow's +looking at me over the top of the fence, perhaps, when I should be +planting the sweet peas in the garden. I hope our cow would be a +quiet one. I should not like her jumping over the fence into the +flower-beds." + +Mr. Peterkin declared that he should buy a cow of the quietest +kind. + +"I should think something might be done about covering her +horns," said Mrs. + +Peterkin; "that seems the most dangerous part. Perhaps they might +be padded with cotton." + +Elizabeth Eliza said cows were built so large and clumsy, that if +they came at you they could not help knocking you over. + +The little boys would prefer having the pasture a great way off. +Half the fun of having a cow would be going up on the hills after +her. + +Agamemnon thought the feed was not so good on the hills. + + "The cow would like it ever so much better," the little boys +declared, "on account of the variety. If she did not like the rocks +and the bushes, she could walk round and find the grassy places." + +"I am not sure," said Elizabeth Eliza, "but it would be less +dangerous to keep the cow in the lot behind the house, because +she would not be coming and going, morning and night, in that +jerky way the Larkins' cows come home. They don't mind which +gate they rush in at. I should hate to have our cow dash into our +front yard just as I was coming home of an afternoon." + +"That is true," said Mr. Peterkin; "we can have the door of the +cow-house open directly into the pasture, and save the coming and +going." + +The little boys were quite disappointed. The cow would miss the +exercise, and they would lose a great pleasure. + +Solomon John suggested that they might sit on the fence and watch +the cow. + +It was decided to keep the cow in their own pasture; and as they +were to put on an end kitchen, it would be perfectly easy to build +a dairy. + +The cow proved a quiet one. She was a little excited when all the +family stood round at the first milking, and watched her slowly +walking into the shed. + +Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fortnight before. +It was the one she did her gardening in, and it might have +infuriated the cow. And she kept out of the garden the first day or +two. + + Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza bought the best kind of +milk-pans, of every size. + +But there was a little disappointment about the taste of the milk. + +The little boys liked it, and drank large mugs of it. Elizabeth Eliza +said she could never learn to love milk warm from the cow, +though she would like to do her best to patronize the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid Amanda did not under stand about taking +care of the milk; yet she had been down to overlook her, and she +was sure the pans and the closet were all clean. + +"Suppose we send a pitcher of cream over to the lady from +Philadelphia to try," + +said Elizabeth Eliza; "it will be a pretty attention before she goes." + +"It might be awkward if she didn't like it," said Solomon John. +"Perhaps something is the matter with the grass." + +"I gave the cow an apple to eat yesterday," said one of the little +boys, remorsefully. + +Elizabeth Eliza went over, and Mrs. Peterkin too, and explained all +to the lady from Philadelphia, asking her to taste the milk. + +The lady from Philadelphia tasted, and said the truth was that the +milk was sour ! + +"I was afraid it was so," said Mrs. Peterkin; "but I didn't know what +to expect from these new kinds of cows." + +The lady from Philadelphia asked where the milk was kept. + + "In the new dairy," answered Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Is that in a cool place?" asked the lady from Philadelphia. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained it was close by the new kitchen. + +"Is it near the chimney ?" inquired the lady from Philadelphia. + +"It is directly back of the chimney and the new kitchen-range," +replied Elizabeth Eliza. "I suppose it is too hot! " + +"Well, well!" said Mrs. Peterkin, "that is it! Last winter the milk +froze, and now we have gone to the other extreme! Where shall +we put our dairy?" + + THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE. EARLY in the autumn +the Peterkins began to prepare for their Christmas-tree. + +Everything was done in great privacy, as it was to be a surprise to +the neighbors, as well as to the rest of the family. Mr. Peterkin +had been up to Mr. + +Bromwick's wood-lot, and, with his consent, selected the tree. +Agamemnon went to look at it occasionally after dark, and +Solomon John made frequent visits to it mornings, just after +sunrise. Mr. Peterkin drove Elizabeth Eliza and her mother that +way, and pointed furtively to it with his whip; but none of them +ever spoke of it aloud to each other. It was suspected that the little +boys had been to see it Wednesday and Saturday afternoons. But +they came home with their pockets full of chestnuts, and said +nothing about it. + + At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought secretly into +the Larkin's barn. A week or two before Christmas a measurement +was made of it with Elizabeth Eliza's yard-measure. To Mr. +Peterkin's great dismay it was discovered that it was too high to +stand in the back parlor. + +This fact was brought out at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. +Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza, and Agamemnon. + +Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slanting; but Mrs. +Peterkin was very sure it would make her dizzy, and the candles +would drip. + +But a brilliant idea came to Mr. Peterkin. He proposed that the +ceiling of the parlor should be raised to make room for the top of +the tree. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought the space would need to be quite large. It +must not be like a small box, or you could not see the tree. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "I should have the ceiling lifted all across +the room; the effect would be finer." + +Elizabeth Eliza objected to having the whole ceiling raised, +because her room was over the back parlor, and she would have +no floor while the alteration was going on, which would be very +awkward. Besides, her room was not very high now, and, if the +floor were raised, perhaps she could not walk in it upright. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn't propose altering the whole +ceiling, but to life up a ridge across the room at the back part +where the tree was to stand. + +This would make a hump, to be sure, in Elizabeth Eliza's room; but +it would go across the whole room. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she would not mind that. It would be like the +cuddy thing that comes up on the deck of a ship, that you sit +against, only here you would not have the sea-sickness. She +thought she should like it, for a rarity. She might use it for a +divan. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would come in the worn place of the +carpet, and might be a convenience in making the carpet over. + +Agamemnon was afraid there would be trouble in keeping the +matter secret, for it would be a long piece of work for a carpenter; +but Mr. Peterkin proposed having the carpenter for a day or two, +for a number of other jobs. + + One of them was to make all the chairs in the house of the same +height, for Mrs. Peterkin had nearly broken her spine by sitting +down in a chair that she had supposed was her own rocking-chair, +and it had proved to be two inches lower. The little boys were +now large enough to sit in any chair; so a medium was fixed upon +to satisfy all the family, and the chairs were made uniformly of +the same height. + +On consulting the carpenter, however, he insisted that the tree +could be cut off at the lower end to suit the height of the parlor, +and demurred at so great a change as altering the ceiling. But Mr. +Peterkin had set his mind upon the improvement, and Elizabeth +Eliza had cut her carpet in preparation for it. + + So the folding-doors into the back parlor were closed, and for +nearly a fortnight before Christmas there was great litter of fallen +plastering, and laths, and chips, and shavings; and Elizabeth +Eliza's carpet was taken up, and the furniture had to be changed, +and one night she had to sleep at the Bromwicks', for there was a +long hole in her floor that might be dangerous. + +All this delighted the little boys. They could not understand what +was going on. + +Perhaps they suspected a Christmas-tree, but they did not know +why a Christmas-tree should have so many chips, and were still +more astonished at the hump that appeared in Elizabeth Eliza's +room. It must be a Christmas present, or else the tree in a box. + +Some aunts and uncles, too, arrived a day or two before Christmas, +with some small cousins. These cousins occupied the attention of +the little boys, and there was a great deal of whispering and +mystery, behind doors, and under the stairs, and in the corners of +the entry. + +Solomon John was busy, privately making some candles for the +tree. He had been collecting some bayberries, as he understood +they made very nice candles, so that it would not be necessary to +buy any. + +The elders of the family never all went into the back parlor +together, and all tried not to see what was going on. Mrs. Peterkin +would go in with Solomon John, or Mr. Peterkin with Elizabeth +Eliza, or Elizabeth Eliza and Agamemnon and Solomon John. The +little boys and the small cousins were never allowed even to look +inside the room. + +Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile went into town a number of times. She +wanted to consult Amanda as to how much ice-cream they should +need, and whether they could make it at home, as they had cream +and ice. She was pretty busy in her own room; the furniture had to +be changed, and the carpet altered. The "hump" was higher than +she expected. There was danger of bumping her own head +whenever she crossed it. She had to nail some padding on the +ceiling for fear of accidents. + +The afternoon before Christmas, Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, +and their father collected in the back parlor for a council. The +carpenters had done their work, and the tree stood at its full height +at the back of the room, the top stretching up into the space +arranged for it. All the chips and shavings were cleared away, and +it stood on a neat box. + +But what were they to put upon the tree? + + Solomon John had brought in his supply of candles; but they +proved to be very "stringy" and very few of them. It was strange +how many bayberries it took to make a few candles! The little +boys had helped him, and he had gathered as much as a bushel of +bayberries. He had put them in water, and skimmed off the wax, +according to the directions; but there was so little wax! + +Solomon John had given the little boys some of the bits sawed off +from the legs of the chairs. He had suggested that they should +cover them with gilt paper, to answer for gilt apples, without +telling them what they were for. + +These apples, a little blunt at the end, and the candles were all they +had for the tree! + +After all her trips into town Elizabeth Eliza had forgotten to bring +anything for it. + +"I thought of candies and sugar-plums," she said; "but I concluded +if we made caramels ourselves we should not need them. But, +then, we have not made caramels. The fact is, that day my head +was full of my carpet. I had bumped it pretty badly, too." + +Mr. Peterkin wished he had taken, instead of a fir-tree, an +apple-tree he had seen in October, full of red fruit. + +"But the leaves would have fallen off by this time," said Elizabeth +Eliza. + + "And the apples, too," said Solomon John. + +"It is odd I should have forgotten, that day I went in on purpose to +get the things," said Elizabeth Eliza, musingly. "But I went from +shop to shop, and didn't know exactly what to get. I saw a great +many gilt things for Christmas-trees; but I knew the little boys +were making the gilt apples; there were plenty of candles in the +shops, but I knew Solomon John was making the candles." + +Mr. Peterkin thought it was quite natural. + +Solomon John wondered if it were too late for them to go into +town now. + +Elizabeth Eliza could not go in the next morning, for there was to +be a grand Christmas dinner, and Mr. Peterkin could not be +spared, and Solomon John was sure he and Agamemnon would +not know what to buy. Besides, they would want to try the candles +to-night. + +Mr. Peterkin asked if the presents everybody had been preparing +would not answer. But Elizabeth Eliza knew they would be too +heavy. + +A gloom came over the room. There was only a flickering gleam +from one of Solomon John's candles that he had lighted by way of +trial. + +Solomon John again proposed going into town. He lighted a match +to examine the newspaper about the trains. There were plenty of +trains coming out at that hour, but none going in except a very late +one. That would not leave time to do anything and come back. + +"We could go in, Elizabeth Eliza and I," said Solomon John, "but +we should not have time to buy anything." + +Agamemnon was summoned in. Mrs. Peterkin was entertaining the +uncles and aunts in the front parlor. Agamemnon wished there +was time to study up something about electric lights. If they could +only have a calcium light! Solomon John's candle sputtered and +went out. + +At this moment there was a loud knocking at the front door. The +little boys, and the small cousins, and the uncles and aunts, and +Mrs. Peterkin, hastened to see what was the matter. + +The uncles and aunts thought somebody's house must be on fire. +The door was opened, and there was a man, white with flakes, for +it was beginning to snow, and he was pulling in a large box. + +Mrs. Peterkin supposed it contained some of Elizabeth Eliza's +purchases, so she ordered it to be pushed into the back parlor, and +hastily called back her guests and the little boys into the other +room. The little boys and the small cousins were sure they had +seen Santa Claus himself. + +Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was addressed to Elizabeth +Eliza. It was from the lady from Philadelphia! She had gathered a +hint from Elizabeth Eliza's letters that there was to be a +Christmas-tree, and had filled this box with all that would be +needed. + +It was opened directly. There was every kind of gilt hanging-thing, +from gilt pea-pods to butterflies on springs. There were shining +flags and lanterns, and birdcages, and nests with birds sitting on +them, baskets of fruit, gilt apples and bunches of grapes, and, at +the bottom of the whole, a large box of candles and a box of +Philadelphia bonbons! + + Elizabeth Eliza and Solomon John could scarcely keep from +screaming. The little boys and the small cousins knocked on the +folding-doors to ask what was the matter. + +Hastily Mr. Peterkin and the rest took out the things and hung +them on the tree, and put on the candles. + +When all was done, it looked so well that Mr. Peterkin exclaimed: +"Let us light the candles now, and send to invite all the neighbors +to-night, and have the tree on Christmas Eve!" + +And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christmas-tree the day +before, and on Christmas night could go and visit their neighbors. + + MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. TWAS important to have a +tea-party, as they had all been invited by everybody,the +Bromwicks, the Tremletts, and the Gibbonses. It would be such a +good chance to pay off some of their old debts, now that the lady +from Philadelphia was back again, and her two daughters, who +would be sure to make it all go off well. + +But as soon as they began to make out the list, they saw there were +too many to have at once, for there were but twelve cups and +saucers in the best set. + +"There are seven of us, to begin with," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"We need not all drink tea," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"I never do," said Solomon John. The little boys never did. + +"And we could have coffee, too," suggested Elizabeth Eliza. + +"That would take as many cups," objected Agamemnon. + +"We could use the every-day set for the coffee," answered +Elizabeth Eliza; "they are the right shape. Besides," she went on, +"they would not all come. Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick, for instance; +they never go out." + + "There are but six cups in the every-day set," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +The little boys said there were plenty of saucers; and Mr. Peterkin +agreed with Elizabeth Eliza that all would not come. Old Mr. +Jeffers never went out. + +"There are three of the Tremletts," said Elizabeth Eliza; "they +never go out together. One of them, if not two, will be sure to +have the headache. Ann Maria Bromwick would come, and the +three Gibbons boys, and their sister Juliana; but the other sisters +are out West, and there is but one Osborne." + +It really did seem safe to ask "everybody." They would be sorry, +after it was over, that they had not asked more. + +"We have the cow," said Mrs. Peterkin, "so there will be as much +cream and milk as we shall need." + +"And our own pig," said Agamemnon. "I am glad we had it salted; +so we can have plenty of sandwiches." + +"I will buy a chest of tea," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin. "I have been +thinking of a chest for some time." + + Mrs. Peterkin thought a whole chest would not be needed: it was +as well to buy the tea and coffee by the pound. But Mr. Peterkin +determined on a chest of tea and a bag of coffee. + +So they decided to give the invitations to all. It might be a stormy +evening and some would be prevented. + +The lady from Philadelphia and her daughters accepted. + +And it turned out a fair day, and more came than were expected. +Ann Maria Bromwick had a friend staying with her, and brought +her over, for the Bromwicks were opposite neighbors. And the +Tremletts had a niece, and Mary Osborne an aunt, that they took +the liberty to bring. + + The little boys were at the door, to show in the guests, and as each +set came to the front gate, they ran back to tell their mother that +more were coming. + +Mrs. Peterkin had grown dizzy with counting those who had come, +and trying to calculate how many were to come, and wondering +why there were always more and never less, and whether the cups +would go round. + +The three Tremletts all came, with their niece. They all had had +their headaches the day before, and were having that banged +feeling you always have after a headache; so they all sat at the +same side of the room on the long sofa. + +All the Jefferses came, though they had sent uncertain answers. +Old Mr. Jeffers had to be helped in, with his cane, by Mr. +Peterkin. + +The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just outside the parlor +door. And Juliana appeared afterward, with the two other sisters, +unexpectedly home from the West. + + "Got home this morning!" they said. "And so glad to be in time to +see everybody,a little tired, to be sure, after forty-eight hours in a +sleeping-car!" + +"Forty-eight!" repeated Mrs. Peterkin; and wondered if there were +forty-eight people, and why they were all so glad to come, and +whether all could sit down. + +Old Mr. and Mrs. Bromwick came. They thought it would not be +neighborly to stay away. They insisted on getting into the most +uncomfortable seats. + +Yet there seemed to be seats enough while the Gibbons boys +preferred to stand. + +But they never could sit round a tea-table. Elizabeth Eliza had +thought they all might have room at the table, and Solomon John +and the little boys could help in the waiting. + +It was a great moment when the lady from Philadelphia arrived +with her daughters. Mr. Peterkin was talking to Mr. Bromwick, +who was a little deaf. The Gibbons boys retreated a little farther +behind the parlor door. Mrs. Peterkin hastened forward to shake +hands with the lady from Philadelphia, saying: "Four Gibbons +girls and Mary Osborne's aunt,that makes nineteen; and now" It +made no difference what she said; for there was such a murmuring +of talk that any words suited. And the lady from Philadelphia +wanted to be introduced to the Bromwicks. + +It was delightful for the little boys. They came to Elizabeth Eliza, +and asked: + +"Can't we go and ask more ? Can't we fetch the Larkins?" + +"Oh, dear, no!" answered Elizabeth Eliza. "I can't even count +them." + +Mrs. Peterkin found time to meet Elizabeth Eliza in the side entry, +to ask if there were going to be cups enough. + +"I have set Agamemnon in the front entry to count," said Elizabeth +Eliza, putting her hand to her head. + +The little boys came to say that the Maberlys were coming. + +"The Maberlys!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. "I never asked them." + +"It is your father's doing," cried Mrs. Peterkin. "I do believe he +asked everybody he saw!" And she hurried back to her guests. + +"What if father really has asked everybody?" Elizabeth Eliza said +to herself, pressing her head again with her hand. + +There were the cow and the pig. But if they all took tea or coffee, +or both, the cups could not go round. + +Agamemnon returned in the midst of her agony. + + MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. He had not been able to count +the guests, they moved about so, they talked so; and it would not +look well to appear to count. + +"What shall we do?" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +"We are not a family for an emergency," said Agamemnon. + +"What do you suppose they did in Philadelphia at the Exhibition, +when there were more people than cups and saucers?" asked +Elizabeth Eliza. "Could not you go and inquire? I know the lady +from Philadelphia is talking about the Exhibition, and telling how +she stayed at home to receive friends. And they must have had +trouble there! Could not you go in and ask, just as if you wanted to +know?" + +Agamemnon looked into the room, but there were too many +talking with the lady from Philadelphia. + +"If we could only look into some book," he said,"the +encyclopaedia or the dictionary, they are such a help sometimes!" + +At this moment he thought of his "Great Triumphs of Great Men," +that he was reading just now. He had not reached the lives of the +Stephensons, or any of the men of modern times. He might skip +over to them,he knew they were men for emergencies. + +He ran up to his room, and met Solomon John coming down with +chairs. + +"That is a good thought," said Agamemnon. "I will bring down +more upstairs chairs." + +"No," said Solomon John; "here are all that can come down; the +rest of the bedroom chairs match bureaus, and they never will +do!" + +Agamemnon kept on to his own room, to consult his books. If only +he could invent something on the spur of the moment,a set of +bedroom furniture, that in an emergency could be turned into +parlor chairs! It seemed an idea; and he sat himself down to his +table and pencils, when he was interrupted by the little boys, who +came to tell him that Elizabeth Eliza wanted him. + +The little boys had been busy thinking. They proposed that the +tea-table, with all the things on, should be pushed into the front +room, where the company were; and those could take cups who +could find cups. + +But Elizabeth Eliza feared it would not be safe to push so large a +table; it might upset, and break what china they had. + +Agamemnon came down to find her pouring out tea, in the back +room. She called to him: "Agamemnon, you must bring Mary +Osborne to help, and perhaps one of the Gibbons boys would carry +round some of the cups." + +And so she began to pour out and to send round the sandwiches, +and the tea, and the coffee. Let things go as far as they would! + +The little boys took the sugar and cream. + +"As soon as they have done drinking bring back the cups and +saucers to be washed," she said to the Gibbons boys and the little +boys. + +This was an idea of Mary Osborne's. + +But what was their surprise, that the more they poured out, the +more cups they seemed to have! Elizabeth Eliza took the coffee, +and Mary Osborne the tea. + +Amanda brought fresh cups from the kitchen. + +"I can't understand it," Elizabeth Eliza said to Amanda. "Do they +come back to you, round through the piazza? Surely there are +more cups than there were!" + +Her surprise was greater when some of them proved to be +coffee-cups that matched the set! And they never had had +coffee-cups. + +Solomon John came in at this moment, breathless with triumph. + +"Solomon John!" Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed; "I cannot understand +the cups!" + +"It is my doing," said Solomon John, with an elevated air. "I went +to the lady from Philadelphia, in the midst of her talk. 'What do +you do in Philadelphia, when you haven't enough cups?' 'Borrow +of my neighbors,' she answered, as quick as she could." + +"She must have guessed," interrupted Elizabeth Eliza. + +"That may be," said Solomon John. "But I whispered to Ann Maria +Bromwick,she was standing by,and she took me straight over +into their closet, and old Mr. + +Bromwick bought this set just where we bought ours. And they had +a coffee-set, too" "You mean where our father and mother +bought them. We were not born," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"It is all the same," said Solomon John. "They match exactly." + +So they did, and more and more came in. + +Elizabeth Eliza exclaimed: + +"And Agamemnon says we are not a family for emergencies!" + +"Ann Maria was very good about it," said Solomon John; "and +quick, too. And old Mrs. Bromwick has kept all her set of two +dozen coffee and tea cups!" + +Elizabeth Eliza was ready to faint with delight and relief. She told +the Gibbons boys, by mistake, instead of Agamemnon, and the +little boys. She almost let fall the cups and saucers she took in her +hand. + +"No trouble now!" + +She thought of the cow, and she thought of the pig, and she poured +on. + +No trouble, except about the chairs. She looked into the room; all +seemed to be sitting down, even her mother. No, her father was +standing, talking to Mr. + +Jeffers. But he was drinking coffee, and the Gibbons boys were +handing things around. + +The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sitting on shawls +on the edge of the window that opened upon the piazza. It was a +soft, warm evening, and some of the young people were on the +piazza. Everybody was talking and laughing, except those who +were listening. + +Mr. Peterkin broke away, to bring back his cup and another for +more coffee. + + "It's a great success, Elizabeth Eliza," he whispered. "The coffee is +admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked none too many. I should +not mind having a tea-party every week." + +Elizabeth Eliza sighed with relief as she filled his cup. It was going +off well. + +There were cups enough, but she was not sure she could live over +another such hour of anxiety; and what was to be done after tea? + + THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. +Dramatis Person. Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda's +mother, girls of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth +Eliza. AMANDA [coming in with a few graduates ]. + + MOTHER, the exhibition is over, and I have brought the whole +class home to the collation. + +MOTHER. The whole class! I But I only expected a few. + +AMANDA. The rest are coming. I brought Julie, and Clara, and +Sophie with me. [A voice is heard. ] Here are the rest. + +MOTHER. Why, no. It is Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza! + +AMANDA. Too late for the exhibition. Such a shame! But in time +for the collation. + +MOTHER [to herself ]. If the ice-cream will go round. + +AMANDA. But what made you so late? Did you miss the train? +This is Elizabeth Eliza, girlsyou have heard me speak of her. +What a pity you were too late! + +MRS. PETERKIN. We tried to come; we did our best. + +MOTHER. Did you miss the train? Didn't you get my postal-card? + +MRS. PETERKIN. We had nothing to do with the train. + +AMANDA. You don't mean you walked? + +MRS. PETERKIN. O no, indeed! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. We came in a horse and carryall. + +JULIA. I always wondered how anybody could come in a horse! + +AMANDA. You are too foolish, Julia. They came in the carryall +part. But didn't you start in time? + +MRS. PETERKIN. It all comes from the carryall being so hard to +turn. I told Mr. + +Peterkin we should get into trouble with one of those carryalls that +don't turn easy. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. They turn easy enough in the stable, so you +can't tell. + +MRS. PETERKIN. Yes; we started with the little boys and +Solomon John on the back seat, and Elizabeth Eliza on the front. +She was to drive, and I was to see to the driving. But the horse +was not faced toward Boston. + +MOTHER. And you tipped over in turning round! Oh, what an +accident! + +AMANDA. And the little boyswhere are they? Are they killed? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. The little boys are all safe. We left them at +the Pringles', with Solomon John. + +MOTHER. But what did happen? + +MRS. PETERKIN. We started the wrong way. + +MOTHER. You lost your way, after all? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. No; we knew the way well enough. + +AMANDA. It's as plain as a pikestaff! + +MRS. PETERKIN. No; we had the horse faced in the wrong +direction,toward Providence. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. And mother was afraid to have me turn, and +we kept on and on till we should reach a wide place. + +MRS. PETERKIN. I thought we should come to a road that would +veer off to the right or left, and bring us back to the right +direction. + +MOTHER. Could not you all get out and turn the thing round? + +MRS. PETERKIN. Why, no; if it had broken down we should not +have been in anything, and could not have gone anywhere. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. Yes, I have always heard it was best to stay +in the carriage, whatever happens. + +JULIA. But nothing seemed to happen. + +MRS. PETERKIN. O yes; we met one man after another, and we +asked the way to Boston. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. And all they would say was, "Turn right +roundyou are on the road to Providence." + +MRS. PETERKIN. As if we could turn right round! That was just +what we couldn't. + + MOTHER. You don't mean you kept on all the way to +Providence? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. O dear, no! We kept on and on, till we met +a man with a black hand-bagblack leather I should say. + +JULIA. He must have been a book-agent. + +MRS. PETERKIN. I dare say he was; his bag seemed heavy. He +set it on a stone. + +MOTHER. I dare say it was the same one that came here the other +day. He wanted me to buy the "History of the Aborigines, Brought +up from Earliest Times to the Present Date," in four volumes. I +told him I hadn't time to read so much. He said that was no matter, +few did, and it wasn't much worth itthey bought books for the +look of the thing. + +AMANDA. Now, that was illiterate; he never could have +graduated. I hope, Elizabeth Eliza, you had nothing to do with that +man. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. Very likely it was not the same one. + +MOTHER. Did he have a kind of pepper-and-salt suit, with one of +the buttons worn? + +MRS. PETERKIN. I noticed one of the buttons was off. + +AMANDA. We're off the subject. Did you buy his book? + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. He never offered us his book. + +MRS. PETERKIN. He told us the same story,we were going to +Providence; if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly +round. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. I told him I couldn't; but he took the horse's +head, and the first thing I knew AMANDA. He had yanked you +round! + +MRS. PETERKIN. I screamed; I couldn't help it! + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. I was glad when it was over! + +MOTHER. Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting +wrong. + +MRS. PETERKIN. Yes, we came straight enough when the horse +was headed right; but we lost time. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. I am sorry enough I lost the exhibition, and +seeing you take the diploma, Amanda. I never got the diploma +myself. I came near it. + +MRS. PETERKIN. Somehow, Elizabeth Eliza never succeeded. I +think there was partiality about the promotions. + + ELIZABETH ELIZA. I never was good about remembering +things. I studied well enough, but, when I came to say off my +lesson, I couldn't think what it was. Yet I could have answered +some of the other girls' questions. + +JULIA. It's odd how the other girls always have the easiest +questions. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. I never could remember poetry There was +only one thing I could repeat. + +AMANDA. Oh, do let us have it now; and then we'll recite to you +some of our exhibition pieces. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. I'll try. + +MRS. PETERKIN. Yes, Elizabeth Eliza, do what you can to help +entertain Amanda's friends. + +[All stand looking at ELIZABETH ELIZA, who remains silent and +thoughtful. ] ELIZABETH ELIZA. I'm trying to think what it is +about. You all know it. You remember, Amanda,the name is +rather long. + +AMANDA. It can't be Nebuchadnezzar, can it?that is one of the +longest names I know. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. O dear, no! + +JULIA. Perhaps it's Cleopatra. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. It does begin with a "C"only he was a boy. + +AMANDA. That's a pity, for it might be " We are seven," only +that is a girl. + +Some of them were boys. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. It begins about a boyif I could only think +where he was. I can't remember. + +AMANDA. Perhaps he "stood upon the burning deck?" + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. That's just it; I knew he stood somewhere. + +AMANDA. Casabianca! Now begingo ahead. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. "The boy stood on the burning deck, +WhenWhen" + +I can't think who stood there with him JULIA. If the deck was +burning, it must have been on fire. I guess the rest ran away, or +jumped into boats. + +AMANDA. That's just it: "Whence all but him had fled." + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. I think I can say it now. + + "The boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had +fled" + +[She hesitates. ] Then I think he went JULIA. Of course, he fled +after the rest. + +AMANDA. Dear, no! That's the point. He didn't. + + "The flames rolled on, he would not go Without his father's +word." + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. O yes. Now I can say it. + + "The boy stood on the burning deck, Whence all but him had +fled; The flames rolled on, he would not go Without his +father's word." + +But it used to rhyme. I don't know what has happened to it. + +MRS. PETERKIN. Elizabeth Eliza is very particular about the +rhymes. + +ELIZABETH ELIZA. It must be "without his father's head," or, +perhaps, "without his father said" he should. + +JULIA. I think you must have omitted something. + +AMANDA. She has left out ever so much! + +MOTHER. Perhaps it's as well to omit some, for the ice-cream +has come, and you must all come down. + +AMANDA. And here are the rest of the girls; and let us all unite +in a song! + +[Exeunt omnes, singing. ] + +THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF JULY. THE +day began early. + +A compact had been made with the little boys the evening before. + +They were to be allowed to usher in the glorious day by the +blowing of horns exactly at sunrise. But they were to blow them +for precisely five minutes only, and no sound of the horns should +be heard afterward till the family were downstairs. + +It was thought that a peace might thus be bought by a short, though +crowded, period of noise. + +The morning came. Even before the morning, at half-past three +o'clock, a terrible blast of the horns aroused the whole family. + + Mrs. Peterkin clasped her hands to her head and exclaimed: "I am +thankful the lady from Philadelphia is not here!" For she had been +invited to stay a week, but had declined to come before the Fourth +of July, as she was not well, and her doctor had prescribed quiet. + +And the number of the horns was most remarkable! It was as +though every cow in the place had arisen and was blowing +through both her own horns! + +"How many little boys are there? How many have we?" exclaimed +Mr. Peterkin, going over their names one by one mechanically, +thinking he would do it, as he might count imaginary sheep +jumping over a fence, to put himself to sleep. Alas! + +the counting could not put him to sleep now, in such a din. + + And how unexpectedly long the five minutes seemed! Elizabeth +Eliza was to take out her watch and give the signal for the end of +the five minutes, and the ceasing of the horns. Why did not the +signal come? Why did not Elizabeth Eliza stop them? + +And certainly it was long before sunrise; there was no dawn to be +seen! + +"We will not try this plan again," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"If we live to another Fourth," added Mr. Peterkin, hastening to the +door to inquire into the state of affairs. + +Alas! Amanda, by mistake, had waked up the little boys an hour +too early. And by another mistake the little boys had invited three +or four of their friends to spend the night with them. Mrs. Peterkin +had given them permission to have the boys for the whole day, +and they understood the day as beginning when they went to bed +the night before. This accounted for the number of horns. + + It would have been impossible to hear any explanation; but the +five minutes were over, and the horns had ceased, and there +remained only the noise of a singular leaping of feet, explained +perhaps by a possible pillow-fight, that kept the family below +partially awake until the bells and cannon made known the +dawning of the glorious day,the sunrise, or "the rising of the +sons," as Mr. + +Peterkin jocosely called it when they heard the little boys and their +friends clattering down the stairs to begin the outside festivities. + +They were bound first for the swamp, for Elizabeth Eliza, at the +suggestion of the lady from Philadelphia, had advised them to +hang some flags around the pillars of the piazza. Now the little +boys knew of a place in the swamp where they had been in the +habit of digging for "flag-root," and where they might find plenty +of flag flowers. They did bring away all they could, but they were a +little out of bloom. The boys were in the midst of nailing up all +they had on the pillars of the piazza when the procession of the +Antiques and Horribles passed along. As the procession saw the +festive arrangements on the piazza, and the crowd of boys, who +cheered them loudly, it stopped to salute the house with some +especial strains of greeting. + +Poor Mrs. Peterkin! They were directly under her windows! In a +few moments of quiet, during the boys' absence from the house on +their visit to the swamp, she had been trying to find out whether +she had a sick-headache, or whether it was all the noise, and she +was just deciding it was the sick headache, but was falling into a +light slumber, when the fresh noise outside began. + +There were the imitations of the crowing of cocks, and braying of +donkeys, and the sound of horns, encored and increased by the +cheers of the boys. Then began the torpedoes, and the Antiques +and Horribles had Chinese crackers also. + +And, in despair of sleep, the family came down to breakfast. + +Mrs. Peterkin had always been much afraid of fire-works, and had +never allowed the boys to bring gunpowder into the house. She +was even afraid of torpedoes; they looked so much like +sugar-plums she was sure some the children would swallow them, +and explode before anybody knew it. + +She was very timid about other things. She was not sure even +about pea-nuts. + +Everybody exclaimed over this: "Surely there was no danger in +pea-nuts!" But Mrs. Peterkin declared she had been very much +alarmed at the Centennial Exhibition, and in the crowded corners +of the streets in Boston, at the pea-nut stands, where they had +machines to roast the pea-nuts. She did not think it was safe. They +might go off any time, in the midst of a crowd of people, too! + +Mr. Peterkin thought there actually was no danger, and he should +be sorry to give up the pea-nut. He thought it an American +institution, something really belonging to the Fourth of July. He +even confessed to a quiet pleasure in crushing the empty shells +with his feet on the sidewalks as he went along the streets. + +Agamemnon thought it a simple joy. + +In consideration, however, of the fact that they had had no real +celebration of the Fourth the last year, Mrs. Peterkin had +consented to give over the day, this year, to the amusement of the +family as a Centennial celebration. She would prepare herself for +a terrible noise,only she did not want any gunpowder brought into +the house. + +The little boys had begun by firing some torpedoes a few days +beforehand, that their mother might be used to the sound, and had +selected their horns some weeks before. + +Solomon John had been very busy in inventing some fireworks. As +Mrs. Peterkin objected to the use of gunpowder, he found out +from the dictionary what the different parts of gunpowder +are,saltpetre, charcoal, and sulphur. Charcoal, he discovered, they +had in the wood-house; saltpetre they would find in the cellar, in +the beef barrel; and sulphur they could buy at the apothecary's. He +explained to his mother that these materials had never yet +exploded in the house, and she was quieted. + +Agamemnon, meanwhile, remembered a recipe he had read +somewhere for making a "fulminating paste" of iron-filings and +powder of brimstone. He had written it down on a piece of paper +in his pocket-book. But the iron filings must be finely powdered. +This they began upon a day or two before, and the very afternoon +before laid out some of the paste on the piazza. + + Pin-wheels and rockets were contributed by Mr. Peterkin for the +evening. + +According to a programme drawn up by Agamemnon and +Solomon John, the reading of the Declaration of Independence +was to take place in the morning, on the piazza, under the flags. + +The Bromwicks brought over their flag to hang over the door. + +"That is what the lady from Philadelphia meant," explained +Elizabeth Eliza. + + "She said the flags of our country," said the little boys. "We +thought she meant 'in the country.'" + +Quite a company assembled; but it seemed nobody had a copy of +the Declaration of Independence. + +Elizabeth Eliza said she could say one line, if they each could add +as much. But it proved they all knew the same line that she did, as +they began: "When, in the course ofwhen, in the course ofwhen, +in the course of humanwhen in the course of human eventswhen, +in the course of human events, it becomeswhen, in the course of +human events, it becomes necessarywhen, in the course of human +events it becomes necessary for one people" They could not get +any farther. Some of the party decided that "one people" was a +good place to stop, and the little boys sent off some fresh +torpedoes in honor of the people. But Mr. Peterkin was not +satisfied. He invited the assembled party to stay until sunset, and +meanwhile he would find a copy, and torpedoes were to be saved +to be fired off at the close of every sentence. + +And now the noon bells rang and the noon bells ceased. + + Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have +some cold beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the +Fourth, and everybody ought to be free that one day; so she could +not have much of a dinner. But when she went to cut her beef she +found Solomon had taken it to soak, on account of the saltpetre, +for the fireworks! + +Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought +tamarinds and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, +and when the Antiques and Horribles passed again they were +treated to pea-nuts and lemonade. + + They sung patriotic songs, they told stories, they fired torpedoes, +they frightened the cats with them. It was a warm afternoon; the +red poppies were out wide, and the hot sun poured down on the +alley-ways in the garden. There was a seething sound of a hot day +in the buzzing of insects, in the steaming heat that came up from +the ground. Some neighboring boys were firing a toy cannon. +Every time it went off Mrs. Peterkin started, and looked to see if +one of the little boys was gone. Mr. Peterkin had set out to find a +copy of the "Declaration." Agamemnon had disappeared. She had +not a moment to decide about her headache. + +She asked Ann Maria if she were not anxious about the fireworks, +and if rockets were not dangerous. They went up, but you were +never sure where they came down. + +And then came a fresh tumult! All the fire-engines in town rushed +toward them, clanging with bells, men and boys yelling! They +were out for a practice and for a Fourth-of-July show. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought the house was on fire, and so did some of +the guests. + +There was great rushing hither and thither. Some thought they +would better go home; some thought they would better stay. Mrs. +Peterkin hastened into the house to save herself, or see what she +could save. Elizabeth Eliza followed her, first proceeding to +collect all the pokers and tongs she could find, because they could +be thrown out of the window without breaking. She had read of +people who had flung looking-glasses out of the window by +mistake, in the excitement of the house being on fire, and had +carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. There was +nothing like being prepared. She had always determined to do the +reverse. So with calmness she told Solomon John to take down the +looking-glasses. But she met with a difficulty,there were no +pokers and tongs, as they did not use them. They had no open +fires; Mrs. Peterkin had been afraid of them. So Elizabeth Eliza +took all the pots and kettles up to the upper windows, ready to be +thrown out. + +But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to +the attic in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it +was the most unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to +collect some bags of old pieces, that nobody would think of +saving from the general wreck, she said, unless she did. Alas! this +was the result of fireworks on Fourth of July! As they came +downstairs they heard the voices of all the company declaring +there was no fire; the danger was past. It was long before Mrs. +Peterkin could believe it. They told her the fire company was only +out for show, and to celebrate the Fourth of July. She thought it +already too much celebrated. + +Elizabeth Eliza's kettles and pans had come down through the +windows with a crash, that had only added to the festivities, the +little boys thought. + + Mr. Peterkin had been roaming about all this time in search of a +copy of the Declaration of Independence. The public library was +shut, and he had to go from house to house; but now, as the sunset +bells and cannon began, he returned with a copy, and read it, to +the pealing of the bells and sounding of the cannon. + +Torpedoes and crackers were fired at every pause. Some +sweet-marjoram pots, tin cans filled with crackers which were +lighted, went off with great explosions. + +At the most exciting moment, near the close of the reading, +Agamemnon, with an expression of terror, pulled Solomon John +aside. + +"I have suddenly remembered where I read about the 'fulminating +paste' we made. + +It was in the preface to 'Woodstock,' and I have been round to +borrow the book to read the directions over again, because I was +afraid about the 'paste' going off. READ THIS QUICKLY! and tell +me, Where is the fulminating paste? " + +Solomon John was busy winding some covers of paper over a little +parcel. It contained chlorate of potash and sulphur mixed. A +friend had told him of the composition. The more thicknesses of +paper you put round it the louder it would go off. You must pound +it with a hammer. Solomon John felt it must be perfectly safe, as +his mother had taken potash for a medicine. + +He still held the parcel as he read from Agamemnon's book: "This +paste, when it has lain together about twenty-six hours, will of +itself take fire, and burn all the sulphur away with a blue flame +and a bad smell." + +"Where is the paste?" repeated Solomon John, in terror. + +"We made it just twenty-six hours ago," said Agamemnon. + +"We put it on the piazza," exclaimed Solomon John, rapidly +recalling the facts, "and it is in front of our mother's feet!" + + He hastened to snatch the paste away before it should take fire, +flinging aside the packet in his hurry. Agamemnon, jumping upon +the piazza at the same moment, trod upon the paper parcel, which +exploded at once with the shock, and he fell to the ground, while +at the same moment the paste "fulminated" into a blue flame +directly in front of Mrs. Peterkin! + +It was a moment of great confusion. There were cries and screams. +The bells were still ringing, the cannon firing, and Mr. Peterkin +had just reached the closing words: "Our lives, our fortunes, and +our sacred honor." + + "We are all blown up, as I feared we should be," Mrs. Peterkin at +length ventured to say, finding herself in a lilac-bush by the side +of the piazza. She scarcely dared to open her eyes to see the +scattered limbs about her. + +It was so with all. Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of +the piazza, with closed eyes. + +At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, "Is anybody killed?" + +There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because +everybody was killed, or because they were too wounded to +answer. It was a great while before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to +move. + +But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success +of Solomon John's fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One +of them had his face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and +Elizabeth Eliza's muslin dress was burned here and there. But no +one was hurt; no one had lost any limbs, though Mrs. Peterkin was +sure she had seen some flying in the air. Nobody could understand +how, as she had kept her eyes firmly shut. + + No greater accident had occurred than the singeing of the tip of +Solomon John's nose. But there was an unpleasant and terrible +odor from the "fulminating paste." + +Mrs. Peterkin was extricated from the lilac-bush. No one knew +how she got there. + +Indeed, the thundering noise had stunned everybody. It had roused +the neighborhood even more than before. Answering explosions +came on every side, and, though the sunset light had not faded +away, the little boys hastened to send off rockets under cover of +the confusion. Solomon John's other fireworks would not go. But +all felt he had done enough. + +Mrs. Peterkin retreated into the parlor, deciding she really did have +a headache. At times she had to come out when a rocket went off, +to see if it was one of the little boys. She was exhausted by the +adventures of the day, and almost thought it could not have been +worse if the boys had been allowed gunpowder. The distracted +lady was thankful there was likely to be but one Centennial Fourth +in her lifetime, and declared she should never more keep anything +in the house as dangerous as saltpetred beef, and she should never +venture to take another spoonful of potash. + + THE PETERKINS' PICNIC. THERE was some doubt about the +weather. Solomon John looked at the "Probabilities;" there were +to be "areas" of rain in the New England States. + +Agamemnon thought if they could only know where the areas of +rain were to be they might go to the others. Mr. Peterkin proposed +walking round the house in a procession, to examine the sky. As +they returned they met Ann Maria Bromwick, who was to go, +much surprised not to find them ready. + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were to go in the carryall, and take up the +lady from Philadelphia, and Ann Maria, with the rest, was to +follow in a wagon, and to stop for the daughters of the lady from +Philadelphia. The wagon arrived, and so Mr. Peterkin had the +horse put into the carryall. + + A basket had been kept on the back piazza for some days, where +anybody could put anything that would be needed for the picnic as +soon as it was thought of. + +Agamemnon had already decided to take a thermometer; +somebody was always complaining of being too hot or too cold at +a picnic, and it would be a great convenience to see if she really +were so. He thought now he might take a barometer, as +"Probabilities" was so uncertain. Then, if it went down in a +threatening way, they could all come back. + +The little boys had tied their kites to the basket. They had never +tried them at home; it might be a good chance on the hills. +Solomon John had put in some fishing-poles; Elizabeth Eliza, a +book of poetry. Mr. Peterkin did not like sitting on the ground, +and proposed taking two chairs, one for himself and one for +anybody else. The little boys were perfectly happy; they jumped in +and out of the wagon a dozen times, with new india-rubber boots, +bought for the occasion. + + Before they started, Mrs. Peterkin began to think she had already +had enough of the picnic, what with going and coming, and trying +to remember things. So many mistakes were made. The things that +were to go in the wagon were put in the carryall, and the things in +the carryall had to be taken out for the wagon! + +Elizabeth Eliza forgot her water-proof, and had to go back for her +veil, and Mr. + +Peterkin came near forgetting his umbrella. + +Mrs. Peterkin sat on the piazza and tried to think. She felt as if she +must have forgotten something; she knew she must. Why could +not she think of it now, before it was too late? It seems hard any +day to think what to have for dinner, but how much easier now it +would be to stay at home quietly and order the dinner,and there +was the butcher's cart! But now they must think of everything. + + At last she was put into the carryall, and Mr. Peterkin in front to +drive. + +Twice they started, and twice they found something was left +behind,the loaf of fresh brown bread on the back piazza, and a +basket of sandwiches on the front porch. And just as the wagon +was leaving, the little boys shrieked, "The basket of things was +left behind!" + +Everybody got out of the wagon. Agamemnon went back into the +house, to see if anything else were left. He looked into the closets; +he shut the front door, and was so busy that he forgot to get into +the wagon himself. It started off and went down the street without +him! + +He was wondering what he should do if he were left behind (why +had they not thought to arrange a telegraph wire to the back wheel +of the wagon, so that he might have sent a message in such a +case!), when the Bromwicks drove out of their yard in their buggy, +and took him in. + + They joined the rest of the party at Tatham Corners, where they +were all to meet and consult where they were to go. Mrs. Peterkin +called to Agamemnon, as soon as he appeared. She had been +holding the barometer and the thermometer, and they waggled so +that it troubled her. It was hard keeping the thermometer out of +the sun, which would make it so warm. It really took away her +pleasure, holding the things. Agamemnon decided to get into the +carryall, on the seat with his father, and take the barometer and +thermometer. + +The consultation went on. Should they go to Cherry Swamp, or +Lonetown Hill? You had the view if you went to Lonetown Hill, +but maybe the drive to Cherry Swamp was prettier. + +Somebody suggested asking the lady from Philadelphia, as the +picnic was got up for her. + +But where was she? + +"I declare," said Mr. Peterkin, "I forgot to stop for her!" The whole +picnic there, and no lady from Philadelphia! + +It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a threatening manner +as they passed the house, and Mr. Peterkin had forgotten to stop, +and Mrs. Peterkin had been so busy managing the thermometers +that she had not noticed, and the wagon had followed on behind. + + Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. She knew they had forgotten +something! She did not like to have Mr. Peterkin make a short +turn, and it was getting late, and what would the lady from +Philadelphia think of it, and had they not better give it all up? + +But everybody said "No!" and Mr. Peterkin said he could make a +wide turn round the Lovejoy barn. So they made the turn, and took +up the lady from Philadelphia, and the wagon followed behind +and took up their daughters, for there was a driver in the wagon +besides Solomon John. + + Ann Maria Bromwick said it was so late by this time, they might +as well stop and have the picnic on the Common! But the question +was put again, Where should they go? + +The lady from Philadelphia decided for Strawberry Nookit +sounded inviting. + +There were no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, +but there was a good place to tie the horses. + +Mrs. Peterkin was feeling a little nervous, for she did not know +what the lady from Philadelphia would think of their having +forgotten her, and the more she tried to explain it, the worse it +seemed to make it. She supposed they never did such things in +Philadelphia; she knew they had invited all the world to a party, +but she was sure she would never want to invite anybody again. +There was no fun about it till it was all over. Such a mistaketo +have a party for a person, and then go without her; but she knew +they would forget something! She wished they had not called it +their picnic. + +There was another bother! Mr. Peterkin stopped. "Was anything +broke?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. "Was something forgotten?" +asked the lady from Philadelphia. + + No! But Mr. Peterkin didn't know the way; and here he was +leading all the party, and a long row of carriages following. + +They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry +Nook, unless it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind. They +were made to drive up, and said that Strawberry Nook was in +quite a different direction, but they could bring the party round to +it through the meadows. + +The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, +such a pleasant day, but Mr. Peterkin said they were started for +Strawberry Nook, and had better keep on, So they kept on. It +proved to be an excellent place, where they could tie the horses to +a fence. Mrs. Peterkin did not like their all heading different ways; +it seemed as if any of them might come at her, and tear up the +fence, especially as the little boys had their kites flapping round. +The Tremletts insisted upon the whole party going up the hill; it +was too damp below. So the Gibbons boys, and the little boys and +Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all the party had to carry +everything up to the rocks. The large basket of "things" was very +heavy. + +It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to +take it out. But with the help of the driver, and Mr. Peterkin, and +old Mr. Bromwick, it was got up the hill. + +And at last all was arranged. Mr. Peterkin was seated in his chair. +The other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she +preferred the carriage cushions; so did old Mr. Bromwick. And +the table-cloth was spread,for they did bring a table-cloth,and +the baskets were opened, and the picnic really began. + +The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been +forgotten, and the Tremletts' basket had been left on their front +door-step. But nobody seemed to mind. Everybody was hungry, +and everything they ate seemed of the best. The little boys were +perfectly happy, and ate of all the kinds of cake. Two of the +Tremletts would stand while they were eating, because they were +afraid of the ants and the spiders that seemed to be crawling +round. And Elizabeth Eliza had to keep poking with a fern leaf to +drive the insects out of the plates. The lady from Philadelphia was +made comfortable with the cushions and shawls, leaning against a +rock. Mrs. Peterkin wondered if she forgot she had been forgotten. + +John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: "Why is +a pastoral musical play better than the music we have here? +Because one is a grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!" + +Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one +of her friends in Boston had told her. It was, "Why is" It began, +"Why is something like" + +no, "Why are they different?" It was something about an old +woman, or else it was something about a young one. It was very +funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was +alike or different. + +The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess +Elizabeth Eliza's conundrum, first the question, and then the +answer, when one of the Tremletts came running down the hill, +and declared she had just discovered a very threatening cloud, and +she was sure it was going to rain down directly. + +Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen. + +There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs. Then it +appeared that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she +had gone back for it twice. + +Mr. Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he +had put the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been +brought up the hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes! + + There was a great cry for the "emergency basket," that had not +been opened yet. + +Mrs. Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting +into it what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of. +Everybody stopped to see its contents. It was carefully covered +with newspapers. First came out a backgammon-board. "That +would be useful," said Ann Maria, "if we have to spend the +afternoon in anybody's barn." Next, a pair of andirons. "What were +they for?" "In case of needing a fire in the woods," explained +Solomon John. Then came a volume of the Encyclopdia. But it +was the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and contained +only A and a part of B, and nothing about rain or showers. Next, a +bag of pea-nuts, put in by the little boys, and Elizabeth Eliza's +book of poetry, and a change of boots for Mr. Peterkin; a small +foot-rug in case the ground should be damp; some paint-boxes of +the little boys'; a box of fish-hooks for Solomon John; an +ink-bottle, carefully done up in a great deal of newspaper, which +was fortunate, as the ink was oozing out; some old magazines, and +a blacking-bottle; and at the bottom, a sun-dial. It was all very +entertaining, and there seemed to be something for every occasion +but the present. Old Mr. Bromwick did not wonder the basket was +so heavy. It was all so interesting that nobody but the Tremletts +went down to the carriages. + +The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on +setting up the sun-dial. Certainly there was no danger of a shower, +and they might as well go on with the picnic. But when Solomon +John and Ann Maria had arranged the sun-dial, they asked +everybody to look at their watches, so that they might see if it was +right. And then came a great exclamation at the hour: "It was time +they were all going home!" + +The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about +her, as she felt the sun was low. But nobody had any idea it was so +late! Well, they had left late, and went back a great many times, +had stopped sometimes to consult, and had been long on the road, +and it had taken a long time to fetch up the things, so it was no +wonder it was time to go away. But it had been a delightful picnic, +after all. + + THE PETERKINS' CHARADES. EVER since the picnic the +Peterkins had been wanting to have "something" at their house in +the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted to get up a "great +Exposition," to show to the people of the place. But Mr. Peterkin +thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for +"exhibits," and it was given up. + +There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town +common, and the ladies of the place thought it ought to be +something handsome,something more than a common +trough,and they ought to work for it. + +Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had +done, and she felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She +had an idea, but she would not speak of it at first, not until after +she had written to the lady from Philadelphia. She had often +thought, in many cases, if they had asked her advice first, they +might have saved trouble. + + Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew +what they wanted? + +It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to ask +about. And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, but +you could not always put them together. There was this idea of the +water-trough, and then this idea of getting some money for it. So +she began with writing to the lady from Philadelphia. The little +boys believed she spent enough for it in postage-stamps before it +all came out. + +But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to have some +charades at their own house for the benefit of the needed +water-trough,tickets sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria +Bromwick was to help act, because she could bring some old +bonnets and gowns that had been worn by an aged aunt years ago, +and which they had always kept. Elizabeth Eliza said that +Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and they must borrow all +the red things and cashmere scarfs in the place. She knew people +would be willing to lend things. + +Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the +Hindoos, they were such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you +must not have it too odd, or people would not understand it, and +she did not want anything to frighten her mother. + +She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in her +letters,the one that had "Turk" in it,but they ought to have two +words "Oh, yes," Ann Maria said, "you must have two words; if +the people paid for their tickets they would want to get their +money's worth." + +Solomon John thought you might have "Hindoos"; the little boys +could color their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could +have the first scene an Irishman catching a hen, and then paying +the water-taxes for "dues," and then have the little boys for +Hindoos. + + A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to +suit. There was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the +folding-doors stuck when you tried to open and shut them. +Agamemnon said that the Pan-Elocutionists had a curtain they +would probably lend John Osborne, and so it was decided to ask +John Osborne to help. + +If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said +he was sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy +to make a stage if John Osborne would help put it up. + +All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it Ann +Maria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, +and they spent the evening in trying on the various things,such +odd caps and remarkable bonnets ! Solomon John said they ought +to have plenty of bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a +charade was sure to go off well; he had seen charades in Boston. +Mrs. + +Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys +brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with +costumes. + +Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew +what they were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring +anything she had,it would all come of use. + +The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. +Agamemnon and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and +John Osborne helped zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists +would lend a scene also. There was a great clatter of bandboxes, +and piles of shawls in corners, and such a piece of work in getting +up the curtain! In the midst of it came in the little boys, shouting, +"All the tickets are sold, at ten cents each !" + +"Seventy tickets sold!" exclaimed Agamemnon. + +"Seven dollars for the water-trough!" said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And we do not know yet what we are going to act!" exclaimed +Ann Maria. + +But everybody's attention had to be given to the scene that was +going up in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. +It was magnificent, and represented a forest. + +"Where are we going to put seventy people?" exclaimed Mrs. +Peterkin, venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and +boards, and litter. + +The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience +consisted of boys, who would not take up much room. But how +much clearing and sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary +before all could be made ready! It was late, and some of the +people had already come to secure good seats, even before the +actors had assembled. + +"What are we going to act?" asked Ann Maria. + +"I have been so torn with one thing and another," said Elizabeth +Eliza, "I haven't had time to think!" + +"Haven't you the word yet?" asked John Osborne, for the audience +was flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly. + +"I have got one word in my pocket," said Elizabeth Eliza, "in the +letter from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of +the word. Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don't yet understand +the whole of the word." + +"You don't know the word, and the people are all here!" said John +Osborne, impatiently. + +"Elizabeth Eliza !" exclaimed Ann Maria, "Solomon John says I'm +to be a Turkish slave, and I'll have to wear a veil. Do you know +where the veils are? You know I brought them over last night." + +"Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large +cashmere scarf !" + +exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. + +"Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!" +cried another of the boys. + +And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the +other side of the thin curtain. + +"You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; +sit where you can hear." + +"And let Julia Fitch come where she can see," said another voice. + +"And we have not any words for them to hear or see!" exclaimed +John Osborne, behind the curtain. + +"Oh, I wish we'd never determined to have charades! exclaimed +Elizabeth Eliza. + +"Can't we return the money?" + +"They are all here; we must give them something!" said John +Osborne, heroically. + + "And Solomon John is almost dressed," reported Ann Maria, +winding a veil around her head. + +"Why don't we take Solomon John's word 'Hindoos' for the first?" +said Agamemnon. + + John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the "hin," or +anything, and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with +the help of a feather duster. + +The bell rang, and the first scene began. + +It was a great success. John Osborne's Irish was perfect. Nobody +guessed the word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received +great applause. + +Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the +water-rates, and made a long speech on taxation. He was +interrupted by Ann Maria as an old woman in a huge bonnet. She +persisted in turning her back to the audience, speaking so low +nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, who appeared in a more +remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directly back, saying +she had forgotten something But this was supposed to be the +effect intended, and it was loudly cheered. + +Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of +their friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the +piano till the scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown +boys done up in blankets and turbans. + +"I am thankful that is over," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for now we can +act my word. + +Only I don't myself know the whole." + +"Never mind, let us act it," said John Osborne, "and the audience +can guess the whole." + +"The first syllable must be the letter P," said Elizabeth Eliza, "and +we must have a school." + +Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went +on as scholars. + +All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a +school by flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master. + +"They'll guess that to be 'row,'" said John Osborne in despair; +"they'll never guess 'P'!" + + The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined +on John Osborne's army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long +beard, and all the family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza +were brought in to him, veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo +costumes. + +This was considered the great scene of the evening, though +Elizabeth Eliza was sure she did not know what to do,whether to +kneel or sit down; she did not know whether Turkish women did +sit down, and she could not help laughing whenever she looked at +Solomon John. He, however, kept his solemnity. "I suppose I need +not say much," he had said, "for I shall be the 'Turk who was +dreaming of the hour.'" But he did order the little boys to bring +sherbet, and when they brought it without ice insisted they must +have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and the scene +closed. + +"What are we to do now?" asked John Osborne, warming up to the +occasion. + +"We must have an 'inn' scene," said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her +letter; "two inns, if we can." + + "We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going +to another," + +said John Osborne. + +"Now is the time for the bandboxes," said Solomon John, who, +since his Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest +of the charade. + +Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to +draw Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their +several inns. The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, +and bandboxes. Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when +Agamemnon sat down upon his the applause was immense. At last +the curtain fell. + +"Now for the whole," said John Osborne, as he made his way off +the stage over a heap of umbrellas. + +"I can't think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the +whole," said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter. + +"Listen, they are guessing," said John Osborne. "'D-ice-box.' I don't +wonder they get it wrong." + +"But we know it can't be that!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in +agony. "How can we act the whole if we don't know it ourselves?" + +"Oh, I see it!" said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. "Get your +whole family in for the last scene." + +Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed +the background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon +and Solomon John, leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a +little in advance, and in front of all, half kneeling, were the little +boys, in their india-rubber boots. + +The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, "The Peterkins !" +"P-Turk-Inns!" + + It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the +whole. + +"What a tableau!" exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; "the Peterkin family +guessing their own charade." + + THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. AGAMEMNON +had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that was called a +"semi-detached" house, when there was no other "semi" to it. It +had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never +built the other half. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking the +terrible process of a move to another house, when they were fully +satisfied with the one they were in. + +But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a new +railroad had to be carried directly through the place, and a station +was to be built on that very spot. + +Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned +whether they could not continue to live in the upper part of the +house and give up the lower part to the station. They could then +dine at the restaurant, and it would be very convenient about +travelling, as there would be no danger of missing the train, if one +were sure of the direction. + +But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and +the steam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed +under the dining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked +in to see what the family had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they +must move. + +But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house that +satisfied the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into a +tan-pit; another was too much in the middle of the town, next door +to a machine-shop. Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with +vines, that should face the sunset; while Mr. + +Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking +towards the west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure +time), for the sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a +house with a great many doors, so that they could go in and out +often. But Mr. Peterkin did not like so much slamming, and felt +there was more danger of burglars with so many doors. + +Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for +a workshop. If he could have carpenters' tools and a workbench he +could build an observatory, if it were wanted. + + But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must +leave their house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. +Finch's, at the Corners. It satisfied none of the family. The porch +was a piazza, and was opposite a barn. There were three other +doors,too many to please Mr. Peterkin, and not enough for the +little boys. There was no observatory, and nothing to observe if +there were one, as the house was too low and some high trees shut +out any view. Elizabeth Eliza had hoped for a view; but Mr. +Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was more healthy to have to +walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that they might get tired +of the same every day. + + And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys +carried their india-rubber boots the very first afternoon. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and +spent the evening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to +arrange everything beforehand, so that there should not be the +confusion that her mother dreaded, and the discomfort they had in +their last move. Mrs. Peterkin shook her head; she did not think it +possible to move with any comfort. Agamemnon said a great deal +could be done with a list and a programme. + + Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme +would make it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor +carpets, which could be put down in the new house the first thing. +Then the parlor furniture could be moved in, and there would be +two comfortable rooms, in which Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin could sit +while the rest of the move went on. Then the old parlor carpets +could be taken up for the new dining-room and the downstairs +bedroom, and the family could meanwhile dine at the old house. +Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though the distance was +considerable, as he felt exercise would be good for them all. + +Elizabeth Eliza's programme then arranged that the dining-room +furniture should be moved the third day, by which time one of the +old parlor carpets would be down in the new dining-room, and +they could still sleep in the old house. Thus there would always be +a quiet, comfortable place in one house or the other. Each night, +when Mr. Peterkin came home, he would find some place for quiet +thought and rest, and each day there should be moved only the +furniture needed for a certain room. Great confusion would be +avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrote these last +words at the head of her programme," Misplace nothing." + +And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member +of the family. + + THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.Page 126. The first thing to be +done was to buy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already +looked at some in Boston, and the next morning she went, by an +early train, with her father, Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to +decide upon them. + + They got home about eleven o'clock, and when they reached the +house were dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the +gate, already partly filled ! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out +of the open door, a large book in one hand, and a duster in the +other, and she came to meet them in an agony of anxiety. What +should they do? The furniture carts had appeared soon after the +rest had left for Boston, and the men had insisted upon beginning +to move the things. In vain had she shown Elizabeth Eliza's +programme; in vain had she insisted they must take only the +parlor furniture. They had declared they must put the heavy pieces +in the bottom of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. So she +had seen them go into every room in the house, and select one +piece of furniture after another, without even looking at Elizabeth +Eliza's programme; she doubted if they could have read it if they +had looked at it. + +Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea +they would come so early, and supposed it would take them a long +time to fill the carts. + + But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,a heavy piece +of furniture,and all its contents were now on the dining-room +tables. Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had +set every book on the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they +would put the books in the bottom of the cart, very much in the +order they were taken from the shelves. But by this time Mrs. +Peterkin was considering the carters as natural enemies, and dared +not trust them; besides, the books ought all to be dusted. So she +was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon's +Encyclopdia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting +it with the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment +four men were bringing down a large chest of drawers from her +father's room, and they called to her to stand out of the way. The +parlors were a scene of confusion. In dusting the books Mrs. +Peterkin neglected to restore them to the careful rows in which +they were left by the men, and they lay in hopeless masses in +different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk in despair upon +the end of a sofa. + +"It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet," said +Solomon John. + +"Is not the carpet bought?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they +were obliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, +and had come back to consult Mrs. Peterkin. + +"What shall we do?" asked Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, "I +shall be back in a moment." + +Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the +scattered volumes of his Encyclopdia. Mr. Peterkin offered a +helping hand to a man lifting a wardrobe. + +Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. "I did not like to go and ask her. But +I felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the +whole matter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at +Makillan's." + +"Makillan's" was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only +one all the family had liked without any doubt; but they had +supposed they might prefer one from Boston. + +The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly to +Makillan's to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But +where should they dine? where should they have their supper? and +where was Mr. Peterkin's "quiet hour" ? + +Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table were +covered with things. + +It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the +Bromwicks, who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the +rest should get something to eat at the baker's. + +Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hastened away to be ready to +receive the carts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they +could. After all there was something exhilarating in this opening +of the new house, and in deciding where things should go. Gayly +Elizabeth Eliza stepped down the front garden of the new home, +and across the piazza, and to the door. But it was locked, and she +had no keys! + +"Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?" she exclaimed. + +No, he had not seen them since the morning,whenah!yes, the +little boys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber +boots, as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left +some door unfastenedperhaps they had put the keys under the +door-mat. No, each door, each window, was solidly closed, and +there was no mat! + +"I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys with +them," said Agamemnon; "or else go home to see if they left them +there." The school was in a different direction from the house, and +far at the other end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet +changed the boys' school, as he proposed to do after their move. + +"That will be the only way," said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had been +arranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and +not come home at noon. + +She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for the +carts soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with +the furniture? Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she +should need them to set the furniture up in the right places. But +they could not stop for this. They put it down upon the piazza, on +the steps, in the garden, and Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous +it was! There was something from every room in the house! Even +the large family chest, which had proved too heavy for them to +travel with had come down from the attic, and stood against the +front door. + +And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy +with a wheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and +waited. Some opposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and +look on, and Elizabeth Eliza groaned inwardly that only the +shabbiest of their furniture appeared to be standing full in view. + + It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for +he had been to the house, then to the school, then back to the +house, for one of the little boys had left the keys at home, in the +pocket of his clothes. Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, +and the boy with the wheelbarrow had waited, and when they got +in they found the parlor must be swept and cleaned. So the +carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure there would +not be time enough to do anything. + +And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set the +furniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a +little place in the dining-room, where they might have their +supper, and go home to sleep. But she looked out, and there were +the carters bringing the bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them +upstairs. + +In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had +been there she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin +in an agony about the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the +house, and how could it be taken out of the house? Agamemnon +made measurements; it certainly could not go out of the front +door! He suggested it might be left till the house was pulled down, +when it could easily be moved out of one side. But Elizabeth Eliza +reminded him that the whole house was to be moved without +being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in strips narrow enough +to go out. One of the men loading the remaining cart disposed of +the question by coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth and carrying +it on on top of his wagon. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But +what should they do?no beds here, no carpets there! The +dining-room table and sideboard were at the other house, the +plates, and forks, and spoons here. In vain she looked at her +programme. It was all reversed; everything was misplaced. Mr. +Peterkin would suppose they were to eat here and sleep here, and +what had become of the little boys? + +Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to +packing the dining-room china. + +They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even one +suggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they +should want to take them next. + +Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair. + +"Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house !" +she exclaimed. + +Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. +Peterkin would be there for his "quiet hour." And when the carters +at last appeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she +sighed and said, "There is nothing left," + +and meekly consented to be led away. + +They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in +a rocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the +opposite barn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John +had taken back with him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut +tree, at the side of the house. + + Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with +furniture, the floors were strewn with books; the bureau was +upstairs that was to stand in a lower bedroom; there was not a +place to lay a table,there was nothing to lay upon it; for the +knives and plates and spoons had not come, and although the +tables were there they were covered with chairs and boxes. + +At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from +Philadelphia. It contained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, +and at the same moment appeared a pot of hot tea from an +opposite neighbor. They placed all this on the back of a bookcase +lying upset, and sat around it. Solomon John came rushing in from +the gate. + +"The last load is coming! We are all moved!" he exclaimed; and +the little boys joined in a chorus, "We are moved! we are moved!" + +Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying +on the parlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza's +hat-box. The parlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles +had been placed on the parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in +the door-way, and the looking-glasses leaned against the pillars of +the piazza. But they were moved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that +they were very much moved. + + THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE LANGUAGES. +CERTAINLY now was the time to study the languages. The +Peterkins had moved into a new house, far more convenient than +their old one, where they would have a place for everything and +everything in its place. Of course they would then have more time. + +Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house, how for a +long time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the +piazza, when she wanted to play on her piano. + +Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the +table-cloths. The upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to +stand in front of the door to the closet under the stairs. But the +under table-cloth was kept in a drawer in the closet. So, whenever +the cloths were changed, the trunk had to be pushed away under +some projecting shelves to make room for opening the closet-door +(as the under table-cloth must be taken out first), then the trunk +was pushed back to make room for it to be opened for the upper +table-cloth, and, after all, it was necessary to push the trunk away +again to open the closet-door for the knife-tray. This always +consumed a great deal of time. + +Now that the china-closet was large enough, everything could find +a place in it. + + Agamemnon especially enjoyed the new library. In the old house +there was no separate room for books. The dictionaries were kept +upstairs, which was very inconvenient, and the volumes of the +Encyclopdia could not be together. There was not room for all in +one place. So from A to P were to be found downstairs, and from +Q to Z were scattered in different rooms upstairs. And the worst of +it was, you could never remember whether from A to P included +P. "I always went upstairs after P," said Agamemnon, "and then +always found it downstairs, or else it was the other way." + +Of course now there were more conveniences for study. With the +books all in one room, there would be no time wasted in looking +for them. + +Mr. Peterkin suggested they should each take a separate language. +If they went abroad, this would prove a great convenience. +Elizabeth Eliza could talk French with the Parisians; Agamemnon, +German with the Germans; Solomon John, Italian with the +Italians; Mrs. Peterkin, Spanish in Spain; and perhaps he could +himself master all the Eastern Languages and Russian. + +Mrs. Peterkin was uncertain about undertaking the Spanish, but all +the family felt very sure they should not go to Spain (as Elizabeth +Eliza dreaded the Inquisition), and Mrs. Peterkin felt more +willing. + +Still she had quite an objection to going abroad. She had always +said she would not go till a bridge was made across the Atlantic, +and she was sure it did not look like it now. + +Agamemnon said there was no knowing. There was something +new every day, and a bridge was surely not harder to invent than a +telephone, for they had bridges in the very earliest days. + +Then came up the question of the teachers. Probably these could +be found in Boston. If they could all come the same day, three +could be brought out in the carryall. Agamemnon could go in for +them, and could learn a little on the way out and in. + +Mr. Peterkin made some inquiries about the Oriental languages. +He was told that Sanscrit was at the root of all. So he proposed +they should all begin with Sanscrit. They would thus require but +one teacher, and could branch out into the other languages +afterward. + +But the family preferred learning the separate languages. Elizabeth +Eliza already knew something of the French. She had tried to talk +it, without much success, at the Centennial Exhibition, at one of +the side-stands. But she found she had been talking with a +Moorish gentleman who did not understand French. Mr. + +Peterkin feared they might need more libraries, if all the teachers +came at the same hour; but Agamemnon reminded him that they +would be using different dictionaries. And Mr. Peterkin thought +something might be learned by having them all at once. Each one +might pick up something beside the language he was studying, +and it was a great thing to learn to talk a foreign language while +others were talking about you. Mrs. Peterkin was afraid it would +be like the Tower of Babel, and hoped it was all right. + +Agamemnon brought forward another difficulty. Of course they +ought to have foreign teachers, who spoke only their native +languages. But, in this case, how could they engage them to come, +or explain to them about the carryall, or arrange the proposed +hours? He did not understand how anybody ever began with a +foreigner, because he could not even tell him what he wanted. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought a great deal might be done by signs and +pantomime. + +Solomon John and the little boys began to show how it might be +done. Elizabeth Eliza explained how "langues " meant both +"languages" and "tongues," and they could point to their tongues. +For practice, the little boys represented the foreign teachers +talking in their different languages, and Agamemnon and Solomon +John went to invite them to come out, and teach the family by a +series of signs. + + Mr. Peterkin thought their success was admirable, and that they +might almost go abroad without any study of the languages, and +trust to explaining themselves by signs. Still, as the bridge was not +yet made, it might be as well to wait and cultivate the languages. + +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid the foreign teachers might imagine they +were invited out to lunch. Solomon John had constantly pointed to +his mouth as he opened it and shut it, putting out his tongue; and +it looked a great deal more as if he were inviting them to eat, than +asking them to teach. Agamemnon suggested that they might carry +the separate dictionaries when they went to see the teachers, and +that would show that they meant lessons, and not lunch. + +Mrs. Peterkin was not sure but she ought to prepare a lunch for +them, if they had come all that way; but she certainly did not +know what they were accustomed to eat. + +Mr. Peterkin thought this would be a good thing to learn of the +foreigners. It would be a good preparation for going abroad, and +they might get used to the dishes before starting. The little boys +were delighted at the idea of having new things cooked. +Agamemnon had heard that beer-soup was a favorite dish with the +Germans, and he would inquire how it was made in the first +lesson. Solomon John had heard they were all very fond of garlic, +and thought it would be a pretty attention to have some in the +house the first day, that they might be cheered by the odor. + +Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Philadelphia by +her knowledge of French, and hoped to begin on her lessons +before the Philadelphia family arrived for their annual visit. + +There were still some delays. Mr. Peterkin was very anxious to +obtain teachers who had been but a short time in this country. He +did not want to be tempted to talk any English with them. He +wanted the latest and freshest languages, and at last came home +one day with a list of "brand-new foreigners." + +They decided to borrow the Bromwicks' carryall to use, beside +their own, for the first day, and Mr. Peterkin and Agamemnon +drove into town to bring all the teachers out. One was a Russian +gentleman, travelling, who came with no idea of giving lessons, +but perhaps he would consent to do so. He could not yet speak +English. + +Mr. Peterkin had his card-case, and the cards of the several +gentlemen who had recommended the different teachers, and he +went with Agamemnon from hotel to hotel collecting them. He +found them all very polite, and ready to come, after the +explanation by signs agreed upon. The dictionaries had been +forgotten, but Agamemnon had a directory, which looked the +same, and seemed to satisfy the foreigners. + + Mr. Peterkin was obliged to content himself with the Russian +instead of one who could teach Sanscrit, as there was no new +teacher of that language lately arrived. + +But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the Russian +gentleman into the same carriage with the teacher of Arabic, for +he was a Turk, sitting with a fez on his head, on the back seat! +They glared at each other, and began to assail each other in every +language they knew, none of which Mr. Peterkin could +understand. It might be Russian, it might be Arabic. It was easy to +understand that they would never consent to sit in the same +carriage. Mr. Peterkin was in despair; he had forgotten about the +Russian war! What a mistake to have invited the Turk! + + Quite a crowd collected on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. But +the French gentleman politely, but stiffly, invited the Russian to +go with him in the first carryall. Here was another difficulty. For +the German professor was quietly ensconced on the back seat! As +soon as the French gentleman put his foot on the step and saw +him, he addressed him in such forcible language that the German +professor got out of the door the other side, and came round on the +sidewalk, and took him by the collar. Certainly the German and +French gentlemen could not be put together, and more crowd +collected! + + Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the German word +"Herr," and he applied it to the German, inviting him by signs to +take a seat in the other carryall. The German consented to sit by +the Turk, as they neither of them could understand the other; and +at last they started, Mr. Peterkin with the Italian by his side, and +the French and Russian teachers behind, vociferating to each other +in languages unknown to Mr. Peterkin, while he feared they were +not perfectly in harmony, so he drove home as fast as possible. +Agamemnon had a silent party. The Spaniard by his side was a +little moody, while the Turk and the German behind did not utter +a word. + + At last they reached the house, and were greeted by Mrs. Peterkin +and Elizabeth Eliza, Mrs. Peterkin with her llama lace shawl over +her shoulders, as a tribute to the Spanish teacher. Mr. Peterkin +was careful to take his party in first, and deposit them in a distant +part of the library, far from the Turk or the German, even putting +the Frenchman and Russian apart. + +Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated himself by +his Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dictionary, by the +German. The little boys took their copy of the "Arabian Nights" to +the Turk. Mr. Peterkin attempted to explain to the Russian that he +had no Russian dictionary, as he had hoped to learn Sanscrit of +him, while Mrs. Peterkin was trying to inform her teacher that she +had no books in Spanish. She got over all fears of the Inquisition, +he looked so sad, and she tried to talk a little, using English +words, but very slowly, and altering the accent as far as she knew +how. The Spaniard bowed, looked gravely interested, and was +very polite. + + Elizabeth Eliza, meanwhile, was trying her grammar phrases with +the Parisian. + +She found it easier to talk French than to understand him. But he +understood perfectly her sentences. She repeated one of her +vocabularies, and went on with"J'ai le livre." "As-tu le pain? " +"L'enfant a une poire." He listened with great attention, and +replied slowly. Suddenly she started after making out one of his +sentences, and went to her mother to whisper, "They have made +the mistake you feared. They think they are invited to lunch! He +has just been thanking me for our politeness in inviting them to +djener,that means breakfast!" + +"They have not had their breakfast!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, +looking at her Spaniard; "he does look hungry! What shall we +do?" + + Elizabeth Eliza was consulting her father. What should they do? +How should they make them understand that they invited them to +teach, not lunch. Elizabeth Eliza begged Agamemnon to look out +"apprendre " in the dictionary. It must mean to teach. Alas, they +found it means both to teach and to learn! What should they do? +The foreigners were now sitting silent in their different corners. +The Spaniard grew more and more sallow. What if he should +faint? The Frenchman was rolling up each of his mustaches to a +point as he gazed at the German. What if the Russian should fight +the Turk? What if the German should be exasperated by the airs of +the Parisian? + +"We must give them something to eat," said Mr. Peterkin, in a low +tone. "It would calm them." + +"If I only knew what they were used to eating," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +Solomon John suggested that none of them knew what the others +were used to eating, and they might bring in anything. + +Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. Amanda could +make good coffee. Mr. Peterkin had suggested some American +dish. Solomon John sent a little boy for some olives. + +It was not long before the coffee came in, and a dish of baked +beans. Next, some olives and a loaf of bread, and some boiled +eggs, and some bottles of beer. The effect was astonishing. Every +man spoke his own tongue, and fluently. Mrs. + +Peterkin poured out coffee for the Spaniard, while he bowed to +her. They all liked beer, they all liked olives. The Frenchman was +fluent about "les moeurs Amricaines." Elizabeth Eliza supposed +he alluded to their not having set any table. The Turk smiled, the +Russian was voluble. In the midst of the clang of the different +languages, just as Mr. Peterkin was again repeating, under cover +of the noise of many tongues, "How shall we make them +understand that we want them to teach?"at this very moment the +door was flung open, and there came in the lady from +Philadelphia, that day arrived, her first call of the season! + +She started back in terror at the tumult of so many different +languages! The family, with joy, rushed to meet her. All together +they called upon her to explain for them. Could she help them? +Could she tell the foreigners they wanted to take lessons? +Lessons? They had no sooner uttered the word than their guests all +started up with faces beaming with joy. It was the one English +word they all knew! They had come to Boston to give lessons! +The Russian traveller had hoped to learn English in this way. The +thought pleased them more than the djener. + +Yes, gladly would they give lessons. The Turk smiled at the idea. +The first step was taken. The teachers knew they were expected to +teach + +MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. +AGAMEMNON felt that it became necessary for him to choose a +profession. It was important on account of the little boys. If he +should make a trial of several different professions he could find +out which would be the most likely to be successful, and it would +then be easy to bring up the little boys in the right direction. + +Elizabeth Eliza agreed with this. She thought the family +occasionally made mistakes, and had come near disgracing +themselves. Now was their chance to avoid this in future by giving +the little boys a proper education. + +Solomon John was almost determined to become a doctor. From +earliest childhood he had practiced writing recipes on little slips +of paper. Mrs. Peterkin, to be sure, was afraid of infection. She +could not bear the idea of his bringing one disease after the other +into the family circle. Solomon John, too, did not like sick people. +He thought he might manage it if he should not have to see his +patients while they were sick. If he could only visit them when +they were recovering, and when the danger of infection was over, +he would really enjoy making calls. + + He should have a comfortable doctor's chaise, and take one of the +little boys to hold his horse while he went in, and he thought he +could get through the conversational part very well, and feeling +the pulse, perhaps looking at the tongue. He should take and read +all the newspapers, and so be thoroughly acquainted with the +news of the day to talk of. But he should not like to be waked up +at night to visit. Mr. Peterkin thought that would not be necessary. +He had seen signs on doors of "Night Doctor," and certainly it +would be as convenient to have a sign of "Not a Night Doctor." + +Solomon John thought he might write his advice to those of his +patients who were dangerously ill, from whom there was danger +of infection. And then Elizabeth Eliza agreed that his +prescriptions would probably be so satisfactory that they would +keep his patients well,not too well to do without a doctor, but +needing his recipes. + +Agamemnon was delayed, however, in his choice of a profession, +by a desire he had to become a famous inventor. If he could only +invent something important, and get out a patent, he would make +himself known all over the country. If he could get out a patent he +would be set up for life, or at least as long as the patent lasted, and +it would be well to be sure to arrange it to last through his natural +life. + +Indeed, he had gone so far as to make his invention. It had been +suggested by their trouble with a key, in their late moving to their +new house. He had studied the matter over a great deal. He looked +it up in the Encyclopdia, and had spent a day or two in the Public +Library, in reading about Chubb's Lock and other patent locks. + + But his plan was more simple. It was this: that all keys should be +made alike ! + +He wondered it had not been thought of before; but so it was, +Solomon John said, with all inventions, with Christopher +Columbus, and everybody. Nobody knew the invention till it was +invented, and then it looked very simple. With Agamemnon's plan +you need have but one key, that should fit everything! It should be +a medium-sized key, not too large to carry. It ought to answer for +a house door, but you might open a portmanteau with it. How +much less danger there would be of losing one's keys if there were +only one to lose! + +Mrs. Peterkin thought it would be inconvenient if their father were +out, and she wanted to open the jam-closet for the little boys. But +Agamemnon explained that he did not mean there should be but +one key in the family, or in a town,you might have as many as +you pleased, only they should all be alike. + + Elizabeth Eliza felt it would be a great convenience,they could +keep the front door always locked, yet she could open it with the +key of her upper drawer; that she was sure to have with her. And +Mrs. Peterkin felt it might be a convenience if they had one on +each story, so that they need not go up and down for it. + +Mr. Peterkin studied all the papers and advertisements, to decide +about the lawyer whom they should consult, and at last, one +morning, they went into town to visit a patent-agent. + +Elizabeth Eliza took the occasion to make a call upon the lady +from Philadelphia, but she came back hurriedly to her mother. + +"I have had a delightful call," she said; "butperhaps I was wrongI +could not help, in conversation, speaking of Agamemnon's +proposed patent. I ought not to have mentioned it, as such things +are kept profound secrets; they say women always do tell things; I +suppose that is the reason." + +"But where is the harm? " asked Mrs. Peterkin. " I'm sure you can +trust the lady from Philadelphia." + +Elizabeth Eliza then explained that the lady from Philadelphia had +questioned the plan a little when it was told her, and had +suggested that " if everybody had the same key there would be no +particular use in a lock." + + "Did you explain to her," said Mrs. Peterkin, "that we were not all +to have the same keys? " + +"I couldn't quite understand her," said Elizabeth Eliza, "but she +seemed to think that burglars and other people might come in if +the keys were the same." + +"Agamemnon would not sell his patent to burglars!" said Mrs. +Peterkin, indignantly. + +"But about other people," said Elizabeth Eliza; "there is my upper +drawer; the little boys might open it at Christmas-time,and their +presents in it!" + +"And I am not sure that I could trust Amanda," said Mrs. Peterkin, +considering. + + Both she and Elizabeth Eliza felt that Mr. Peterkin ought to know +what the lady from Philadelphia had suggested. Elizabeth Eliza +then proposed going into town, but it would take so long she +might not reach them in time. A telegram would be better, and she +ventured to suggest using the Telegraph Alarm. + +For, on moving into their new house, they had discovered it was +provided with all the modern improvements. This had been a +disappointment to Mrs. Peterkin, for she was afraid of them, since +their experience the last winter, when their water-pipes were +frozen up. She had been originally attracted to the house by an old +pump at the side, which had led her to believe there were no +modern improvements. It had pleased the little boys, too. They +liked to pump the handle up and down, and agreed to pump all the +water needed, and bring it into the house. + + There was an old well, with a picturesque well-sweep, in a corner +by the barn. + +Mrs. Peterkin was frightened by this at first. She was afraid the +little boys would be falling in every day. And they showed great +fondness for pulling the bucket up and down. It proved, however, +that the well was dry. There was no water in it; so she had some +moss thrown down, and an old feather-bed, for safety, and the old +well was a favorite place of amusement. + +The house, it had proved, was well furnished with bath-rooms, and +"set-waters" + +everywhere. Water-pipes and gas-pipes all over the house; and a +hack-, telegraph-, and fire-alarm, with a little knob for each. + +Mrs. Peterkin was very anxious. She feared the little boys would +be summoning somebody all the time, and it was decided to +conceal from them the use of the knobs, and the card of directions +at the side was destroyed. Agamemnon had made one of his first +inventions to help this. He had arranged a number of similar +knobs to be put in rows in different parts of the house, to appear as +if they were intended for ornament, and had added some to the +original knobs. Mrs. + +Peterkin felt more secure, and Agamemnon thought of taking out a +patent for this invention. + +It was, therefore, with some doubt that Elizabeth Eliza proposed +sending a telegram to her father. Mrs. Peterkin, however, was +pleased with the idea. + +Solomon John was out, and the little boys were at school, and she +herself would touch the knob, while Elizabeth Eliza should write +the telegram. + +"I think it is the fourth knob from the beginning," she said, looking +at one of the rows of knobs. + + Elizabeth Eliza was sure of this. Agamemnon, she believed, had +put three extra knobs at each end. + +"But which is the end, and which is the beginning, the top or the +bottom?" Mrs. + +Peterkin asked hopelessly. + +Still she bravely selected a knob, and Elizabeth Eliza hastened +with her to look out for the messenger. How soon should they see +the telegraph boy? + +They seemed to have scarcely reached the window, when a terrible +noise was heard, and down the shady street the white horses of the +fire-brigade were seen rushing at a fatal speed! + +It was a terrific moment! + +"I have touched the fire-alarm," Mrs. Peterkin exclaimed. + +Both rushed to open the front door in agony. By this time the +fire-engines were approaching. + +"Do not be alarmed," said the chief engineer; "the furniture shall +be carefully covered, and we will move all that is necessary." + +"Move again!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, in agony. + +Elizabeth Eliza strove to explain that she was only sending a +telegram to her father, who was in Boston. + + "It is not important," said the head engineer; "the fire will all be +out before it could reach him." + +And he ran upstairs, for the engines were beginning to play upon +the roof. + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs again hurriedly; there was more +necessity for summoning Mr. Peterkin home. + +"Write a telegram to your father," she said to Elizabeth Eliza, "to +'come home directly.'" + +"That will take but three words," said Elizabeth Eliza, with +presence of mind, "and we need ten. I was just trying to make +them out." + + "What has come now?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, and they hurried +again to the window, to see a row of carriages coming down the +street. + +"I must have touched the carriage-knob," cried Mrs. Peterkin, "and +I pushed it half-a-dozen times I felt so anxious!" + +Six hacks stood before the door. All the village boys were +assembling. Even their own little boys had returned from school, +and were showing the firemen the way to the well. + +Again Mrs. Peterkin rushed to the knobs, and a fearful sound +arose. She had touched the burglar-alarm ! + + The former owner of the house, who had a great fear of burglars, +had invented a machine of his own, which he had connected with +a knob. A wire attached to the knob moved a spring that could put +in motion a number of watchmen's rattles, hidden under the eaves +of the piazza. + +All these were now set a-going, and their terrible din roused those +of the neighborhood who had not before assembled around the +house. At this moment Elizabeth Eliza met the chief engineer. + +"You need not send for more help," he said; "we have all the +engines in town here, and have stirred up all the towns in the +neighborhood; there's no use in springing any more alarms. I can't +find the fire yet, but we have water pouring all over the house." + +Elizabeth Eliza waved her telegram in the air. + +"We are only trying to send a telegram to my father and brother, +who are in town," she endeavored to explain. + +"If it is necessary," said the chief engineer, "you might send it +down in one of the hackney carriages. I see a number standing +before the door. We'd better begin to move the heavier furniture, +and some of you women might fill the carriages with smaller +things." + +Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled +herself with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another +knob. + + Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the +advice of the chief engineer and went to the door to give her +message to one of the hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy +appear. Her mother had touched the right knob. It was the fourth +from the beginning; but the beginning was at the other end! + +She went out to meet the boy, when, to her joy, she saw behind +him her father and Agamemnon. She clutched her telegram, and +hurried toward them. + +Mr. Peterkin was bewildered. Was the house on fire? If so, where +were the flames? + +He saw the row of carriages. Was there a funeral, or a wedding? +Who was dead? + +Who was to be married? + +He seized the telegram that Elizabeth Eliza reached to him, and +read it aloud. + +"Come to us directlythe house is NOT on fire!" + +The chief engineer was standing on the steps. + +"The house not on fire!" he exclaimed. "What are we all +summoned for?" + +"It is a mistake," cried Elizabeth Eliza, wringing her hands. "We +touched the wrong knob; we wanted the telegraph boy! " + +"We touched all the wrong knobs," exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, from +the house. + +The chief engineer turned directly to give counter-directions, with +a few exclamations of disgust, as the bells of distant fire-engines +were heard approaching. + +Solomon John appeared at this moment, and proposed taking one +of the carriages, and going for a doctor for his mother, for she was +now nearly ready to fall into hysterics, and Agamemnon thought +to send a telegram down by the boy, for the evening papers, to +announce that the Peterkins' house had not been on fire. + +The crisis of the commotion had reached its height. The beds of +flowers, bordered with dark-colored leaves, were trodden down by +the feet of the crowd that had assembled. + +The chief engineer grew more and more indignant, as he sent his +men to order back the fire-engines from the neighboring towns. +The collection of boys followed the procession as it went away. +The fire-brigade hastily removed covers from some of the +furniture, restored the rest to their places, and took away their +ladders. Many neighbors remained, but Mr. Peterkin hastened into +the house to attend to Mrs. Peterkin. + +Elizabeth Eliza took an opportunity to question her father, before +he went in, as to the success of their visit to town. + +"We saw all the patent-agents," answered Mr. Peterkin, in a hollow +whisper. "Not one of them will touch the patent, or have anything +to do with it." + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon, as he walked silently into +the house. She would not now speak to him of the patent; but she +recalled some words of Solomon John. When they were +discussing the patent he had said that many an inventor had grown +gray before his discovery was acknowledged by the public. Others +might reap the harvest, but it came, perhaps, only when he was +going to his grave. + +Elizabeth Eliza looked at Agamemnon reverently, and followed +him silently into the house. + + AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. THERE had apparently been some +mistake in Agamemnon's education. He had been to a number of +colleges, indeed, but he had never completed his course in any +one. + +He had continually fallen into some difficulty with the authorities. +It was singular, for he was of an inquiring mind, and had always +tried to find out what would be expected of him, but had never hit +upon the right thing. + +Solomon John thought the trouble might be in what they called the +elective system, where you were to choose what study you might +take. This had always bewildered Agamemnon a good deal. + +"And how was a feller to tell," Solomon John had asked, "whether +he wanted to study a thing before he tried it? It might turn out +awful hard!" + +Agamemnon had always been fond of reading, from his childhood +up. He was at his book all day long. Mrs Peterkin had imagined he +would come out a great scholar, because she could never get him +away from his books. + +And so it was in his colleges; he was always to be found in the +library, reading and reading. But they were always the wrong +books. + +For instance: the class were required to prepare themselves on the +Spartan war. + +This turned Agamemnon's attention to the Fenians, and to study +the subject he read up on "Charles O'Malley," and "Harry +Lorrequer," and some later novels of that sort, which did not help +him on the subject required, yet took up all his time, so that he +found himself unfitted for anything else when the examinations +came. In consequence he was requested to leave. + +Agamemnon always missed in his recitations, for the same reason +that Elizabeth Eliza did not get on in school, because he was +always asked the questions he did not know. It seemed provoking; +if the professors had only asked something else! + +But they always hit upon the very things he had not studied up. + +Mrs. Peterkin felt this was encouraging, for Agamemnon knew the +things they did not know in colleges. In colleges they were willing +to take for students only those who already knew certain things. +She thought Agamemnon might be a professor in a college for +those students who didn't know those things. + +"I suppose these professors could not have known a great deal," +she added, "or they would not have asked you so many questions; +they would have told you something." + +Agamemnon had left another college on account of a mistake he +had made with some of his classmates. They had taken a great +deal of trouble to bring some wood from a distant wood-pile to +make a bonfire with, under one of the professors' windows. +Agamemnon had felt it would be a compliment to the professor. + +It was with bonfires that heroes had been greeted on their return +from successful wars. In this way beacon-lights had been kindled +upon lofty heights, that had inspired mariners seeking their homes +after distant adventures. As he plodded back and forward he +imagined himself some hero of antiquity. He was reading +"Plutarch's Lives" with deep interest. This had been recommended +at a former college, and he was now taking it up in the midst of +his French course. + +He fancied, even, that some future Plutarch was growing up in +Lynn, perhaps, who would write of this night of suffering, and +glorify its heroes. + +For himself he took a severe cold and suffered from chilblains, in +consequence of going back and forward through the snow, +carrying the wood. + +But the flames of the bonfire caught the blinds of the professor's +room, and set fire to the building, and came near burning up the +whole institution. Agamemnon regretted the result as much as his +predecessor, who gave him his name, must have regretted that +other bonfire, on the shores of Aulis, that deprived him of a +daughter. + +The result for Agamemnon was that he was requested to leave, +after having been in the institution but a few months. + +He left another college in consequence of a misunderstanding +about the hour for morning prayers. He went every day regularly +at ten o'clock, but found, afterward, that he should have gone at +half-past six. This hour seemed to him and to Mrs. Peterkin +unseasonable, at a time of year when the sun was not up, and he +would have been obliged to go to the expense of candles. + +Agamemnon was always willing to try another college, wherever +he could be admitted. He wanted to attain knowledge, however it +might be found. But, after going to five, and leaving each before +the year was out, he gave it up. + + He determined to lay out the money that would have been +expended in a collegiate education in buying an Encyclopdia, the +most complete that he could find, and to spend his life studying it +systematically. He would not content himself with merely reading +it, but he would study into each subject as it came up, and perfect +himself in that subject. By the time, then, that he had finished the +Encyclopdia he should have embraced all knowledge, and have +experienced much of it. + +The family were much interested in this plan of making practice of +every subject that came up. + +He did not, of course, get on very fast in this way. In the second +column of the very first page he met with A as a note in music. +This led him to the study of music. He bought a flute, and took +some lessons, and attempted to accompany Elizabeth Eliza on the +piano. This, of course, distracted him from his work on the +Encyclopdia. But he did not wish to return to A until he felt +perfect in music. This required a long time. + +Then in this same paragraph a reference was made; in it he was +requested to "see Keys." It was necessary, then, to turn to "Keys." +This was about the time the family were moving, which we have +mentioned, when the difficult subject of keys came up, that +suggested to him his own simple invention, and the hope of getting +a patent for it. This led him astray, as inventions before have done +with master-minds, so that he was drawn aside from his regular +study. + +The family, however, were perfectly satisfied with the career +Agamemnon had chosen. It would help them all, in any path of +life, if he should master the Encyclopdia in a thorough way. + +Mr. Peterkin agreed it would in the end be not as expensive as a +college course, even if Agamemnon should buy all the different +Encyclopdias that appeared. + +There would be no "spreads" involved; no expense of receiving +friends at entertainments in college; he could live at home, so that +it would not be necessary to fit up another room, as at college. At +all the times of his leaving he had sold out favorably to other +occupants. + +Solomon John's destiny was more uncertain. He was looking +forward to being a doctor some time, but he had not decided +whether to be allopathic or homeopathic, or whether he could not +better invent his own pills. And he could not understand how to +obtain his doctor's degree. + +For a few weeks he acted as clerk in a druggist's store. But he +could serve only in the toothbrush and soap department, because it +was found he was not familiar enough with the Latin language to +compound the drugs. He agreed to spend his evenings in studying +the Latin grammar; but his course was interrupted by his being +dismissed for treating the little boys too frequently to soda. + + The little boys were going through the schools regularly. The +family had been much exercised with regard to their education. +Elizabeth Eliza felt that everything should be expected from them; +they ought to take advantage from the family mistakes. Every new +method that came up was tried upon the little boys. + +They had been taught spelling by all the different systems, and +were just able to read, when Mr. Peterkin learned that it was now +considered best that children should not be taught to read till they +were ten years old. + +Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Perhaps, if their books were taken +from them even then, they might forget what they had learned. +But no, the evil was done; the brain had received certain +impressions that could not be blurred over. + + This was long ago, however. The little boys had since entered the +public schools. They went also to a gymnasium, and a whittling +school, and joined a class in music, and another in dancing; they +went to some afternoon lectures for children, when there was no +other school, and belonged to a walking-club. Still Mr. Peterkin +was dissatisfied by the slowness of their progress. He visited the +schools himself, and found that they did not lead their classes. It +seemed to him a great deal of time was spent in things that were +not instructive, such as putting on and taking off their india-rubber +boots. + +Elizabeth Eliza proposed that they should be taken from school +and taught by Agamemnon from the Encyclopdia. The rest of the +family might help in the education at all hours of the day. +Solomon John could take up the Latin grammar, and she could +give lessons in French. + +The little boys were enchanted with the plan, only they did not +want to have the study-hours all the time. + +Mr. Peterkin, however, had a magnificent idea, that they should +make their life one grand Object Lesson. They should begin at +breakfast, and study everything put upon the table,the material of +which it was made, and where it came from. + +In the study of the letter A, Agamemnon had embraced the study +of music, and from one meal they might gain instruction enough +for a day. + +"We shall have the assistance," said Mr. Peterkin, "of +Agamemnon, with his Encyclopdia." + +Agamemnon modestly suggested that he had not yet got out of A, +and in their first breakfast everything would therefore have to +begin with A. + +"That would not be impossible," said Mr. Peterkin. "There is +Amanda, who will wait on table, to start with" + +"We could have 'am-and-eggs," suggested Solomon John Mrs. +Peterkin was distressed. It was hard enough to think of anything +for breakfast, and impossible, if it all had to begin with one letter. + +Elizabeth Eliza thought it would not be necessary. All they were to +do was to ask questions, as in examination papers, and find their +answers as they could. + +They could still apply to the Encyclopdia, even if it were not in +Agamemnon's alphabetical course. + + Mr. Peterkin suggested a great variety. One day they would study +the botany of the breakfast-table, another day, its natural history. +The study of butter would include that of the cow. Even that of +the butter-dish would bring in geology. + +The little boys were charmed at the idea of learning pottery from +the cream-jug, and they were promised a potter's wheel directly. + +"You see, my dear," said Mr. Peterkin to his wife, "before many +weeks, we shall be drinking our milk from jugs made by our +children." + + Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thorough study. + +"Yes," said Mr. Peterkin, "we might begin with botany. That would +be near to Agamemnon alphabetically. We ought to find out the +botany of butter. On what does the cow feed?" + +The little boys were eager to go out and see. + +"If she eats clover," said Mr. Peterkin, "we shall expect the botany +of clover." + + The little boys insisted that they were to begin the next day; that +very evening they should go out and study the cow. + +Mrs. Peterkin sighed, and decided she would order a simple +breakfast. The little boys took their note-books and pencils, and +clambered upon the fence, where they seated themselves in a row. + +For there were three little boys. So it was now supposed. They +were always coming in or going out, and it had been difficult to +count them, and nobody was very sure how many there were. + +There they sat, however, on the fence, looking at the cow. She +looked at them with large eyes. + +"She won't eat," they cried, "while we are looking at her!" + +So they turned about, and pretended to look into the street, and +seated themselves that way, turning their heads back, from time to +time, to see the cow. + +"Now she is nibbling a clover." + +"No, that is a bit of sorrel." + +"It's a whole handful of grass." + +"What kind of grass?" they exclaimed. + +It was very hard, sitting with their backs to the cow, and +pretending to the cow that they were looking into the street, and +yet to be looking at the cow all the time, and finding out what she +was eating; and the upper rail of the fence was narrow and a little +sharp. It was very high, too, for some additional rails had been put +on to prevent the cow from jumping into the garden or street. + + Suddenly, looking out into the hazy twilight, Elizabeth Eliza saw +six legs and six india-rubber boots in the air, and the little boys +disappeared! + +"They are tossed by the cow! The little boys are tossed by the +cow!" + +Mrs. Peterkin rushed for the window, but fainted on the way. +Solomon John and Elizabeth Eliza were hurrying to the door, but +stopped, not knowing what to do next. Mrs. Peterkin recovered +herself with a supreme effort, and sent them out to the rescue. + +But what could they do? The fence had been made so high, to keep +the cow out, that nobody could get in. The boy that did the +milking had gone off with the key of the outer gate, and perhaps +with the key of the shed door. Even if that were not locked, before +Agamemnon could get round by the wood-shed and cow-shed, the +little boys might be gored through and through! + +Elizabeth Eliza ran to the neighbors, Solomon John to the +druggist's for plasters, while Agamemnon made his way through +the dining-room to the wood-shed and outer-shed door. Mr. +Peterkin mounted the outside of the fence, while Mrs. + +Peterkin begged him not to put himself in danger. He climbed high +enough to view the scene. He held to the corner post and reported +what he saw. + +They were not gored. The cow was at the other end of the lot. One +of the little boys were lying in a bunch of dark leaves. He was +moving. + +The cow glared, but did not stir. Another little boy was pulling his +india-rubber boots out of the mud. The cow still looked at him. + +Another was feeling the top of his head. The cow began to crop the +grass, still looking at him. + +Agamemnon had reached and opened the shed-door. The little +boys were next seen running toward it. + +A crowd of neighbors, with pitchforks, had returned meanwhile +with Elizabeth Eliza. Solomon John had brought four druggists. +But, by the time they had reached the house, the three little boys +were safe in the arms of their mother! + +"This is too dangerous a form of education," she cried; "I had +rather they went to school." + +"No!" they bravely cried. They were still willing to try the other +way. + + THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. MRS. PETERKIN'S +nerves were so shaken by the excitement of the fall of the three +little boys into the enclosure where the cow was kept that the +educational breakfast was long postponed. The little boys +continued at school, as before, and the conversation dwelt as little +as possible upon the subject of education. + +Mrs. Peterkin's spirits, however, gradually recovered. The little +boys were allowed to watch the cow at her feed. A series of +strings were arranged by Agamemnon and Solomon John, by +which the little boys could be pulled up, if they should again fall +down into the enclosure. These were planned something like +curtain-cords, and Solomon John frequently amused himself by +pulling one of the little boys up or letting him down. + +Some conversation did again fall upon the old difficulty of +questions. Elizabeth Eliza declared that it was not always +necessary to answer; that many who could did not answer +questions,the conductors of the railroads, for instance, who +probably knew the names of all the stations on a road, but were +seldom able to tell them. + +"Yes," said Agamemnon, "one might be a conductor without even +knowing the names of the stations, because you can't understand +them when they do tell them!" + +"I never know," said Elizabeth Eliza, "whether it is ignorance in +them, or unwillingness, that prevents them from telling you how +soon one station is coming, or how long you are to stop, even if +one asks ever so many times. It would be useful if they would +tell." + + Mrs. Peterkin thought this was carried too far in the horse-cars in +Boston. The conductors had always left you as far as possible +from the place where you wanted to stop; but it seemed a little too +much to have the aldermen take it up, and put a notice in the cars, +ordering the conductors "to stop at the farthest crossing." + +Mrs. Peterkin was, indeed, recovering her spirits. She had been +carrying on a brisk correspondence with Philadelphia, that she had +imparted to no one, and at last she announced, as its result, that +she was ready for a breakfast on educational principles. + +A breakfast indeed, when it appeared! Mrs. Peterkin had mistaken +the alphabetical suggestion, and had grasped the idea that the +whole alphabet must be represented in one breakfast. + +This, therefore, was the bill of fare: Apple-sauce, Bread, Butter, +Coffee, Cream, Doughnuts, Eggs, Fish-balls, Griddles, Ham, Ice +(on butter), Jam, Krout (sour), Lamb-chops, Morning Newspapers, +Oatmeal, Pepper, Quince-marmalade, Rolls, Salt, Tea Urn, +Veal-pie, Waffles, Yeast-biscuit. + +Mr. Peterkin was proud and astonished. "Excellent!" he cried. +"Every letter represented except Z." Mrs. Peterkin drew from her +pocket a letter from the lady from Philadelphia. "She thought you +would call it X-cellent for X, and she tells us," she read, "that if +you come with a zest, you will bring the Z." + +Mr. Peterkin was enchanted. He only felt that he ought to invite +the children in the primary schools to such a breakfast; what a +zest, indeed, it would give to the study of their letters! + +It was decided to begin with Apple-sauce. + +"How happy," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, "that this should come first +of all! A child might be brought up on apple-sauce till he had +mastered the first letter of the alphabet, and could go on to the +more involved subjects hidden in bread, butter, baked beans, etc." + +Agamemnon thought his father hardly knew how much was hidden +in the apple. There was all the story of William Tell and the Swiss +independence. The little boys were wild to act William Tell, but +Mrs. Peterkin was afraid of the arrows. Mrs. + +Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce, +then discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps +first historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first +apple. + + Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the +griddles were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at +home on the marmalade, because the quinces came from +grandfather's, and she had seen them planted; she remembered all +about it, and now the bush came up to the sitting-room window. + +She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where +the granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite +recollected why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it +took you almost the whole day to stew them, and then you might +as well set them on again. + +Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at +grandfather's. In order to know thoroughly about apples, they +ought to understand the making of cider. + +Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather's, scarcely +twelve miles away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should +not the family go this very day up to grandfather's, and continue +the education of the breakfast? + +"Why not indeed?" exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather's +would give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard +to the cider-mill. In this way they could widen the field of study, +even to follow in time the cup of coffee to Java. + +It was suggested, too, that at grandfather's they might study the +processes of maple-syrup as involved in the griddle-cakes. + + Agamemnon pointed out the connection between the two subjects: +they were both the products of treesthe apple-tree and the maple. +Mr. Peterkin proposed that the lesson for the day should be +considered the study of trees, and on the way they could look at +other trees. + +Why not, indeed, go this very day? There was no time like the +present. Their breakfast had been so copious, they would scarcely +be in a hurry for dinner, and would, therefore, have the whole day +before them. + +Mrs. Peterkin could put up the remains of the breakfast for +luncheon. + +But how should they go? The carryall, in spite of its name, could +hardly take the whole family, though they might squeeze in six, as +the little boys did not take up much room. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that she could spend the night at +grandfather's. + +Indeed, she had been planning a visit there, and would not object +to staying some days. This would make it easier about coming +home, but it did not settle the difficulty in getting there. + +Why not "Ride and Tie"? + +The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr. Peterkin; and +Agamemnon and Solomon John did not object to their turn. Mrs. +Peterkin could sit in the carriage, when it was waiting for the +pedestrians to come up; or, she said, she did not object to a little +turn of walking. Mr. Peterkin would start, with Solomon John and +the little boys, before the rest, and Agamemnon should drive his +mother and Elizabeth Eliza to the first stopping-place. + + Then came up another question,of Elizabeth Eliza's trunk. If she +stayed a few days, she would need to carry something. It might be +hot, and it might be cold. + +Just as soon as she carried her thin things, she would need her +heaviest wraps. + +You never could depend upon the weather. Even "Probabilities" +got you no farther than to-day. + +In an inspired moment, Elizabeth Eliza bethought herself of the +expressman. She would send her trunk by the express, and she left +the table directly to go and pack it. Mrs. Peterkin busied herself +with Amanda over the remains of the breakfast. Mr. Peterkin and +Agamemnon went to order the horse and the expressman, and +Solomon John and the little boys prepared themselves for a +pedestrian excursion. + +Elizabeth Eliza found it difficult to pack in a hurry; there were so +many things she might want, and then again she might not. She +must put up her music, because her grandfather had a piano; and +then she bethought herself of Agamemnon's flute, and decided to +pick out a volume or two of the Encyclopdia. But it was hard to +decide, all by herself, whether to take G for griddle-cakes, or M for +maple-syrup, or T for tree. She would take as many as she could +make room for. + +She put up her work-box and two extra work-baskets, and she must +take some French books she had never yet found time to read. +This involved taking her French dictionary, as she doubted if her +grandfather had one. She ought to put in a "Botany," if they were +to study trees; but she could not tell which, so she would take all +there were. She might as well take all her dresses, and it was no +harm if one had too many wraps. When she had her trunk packed, +she found it over-full; it was difficult to shut it. She had heard +Solomon John set out from the front door with his father and the +little boys, and Agamemnon was busy holding the horse at the +side door, so there was no use in calling for help. She got upon the +trunk; she jumped upon it; she sat down upon it, and, leaning over, +found she could lock it! Yes, it was really locked. + +But, on getting down from the trunk, she found her dress had been +caught in the lid; she could not move away from it! What was +worse, she was so fastened to the trunk that she could not lean +forward far enough to turn the key back, to unlock the trunk and +release herself! The lock had slipped easily, but she could not now +get hold of the key in the right way to turn it back. + +She tried to pull her dress away. No, it was caught too firmly. She +called for help to her mother or Amanda, to come and open the +trunk. But her door was shut. + +Nobody near enough to hear! She tried to pull the trunk toward the +door, to open it and make herself heard; but it was so heavy that, +in her constrained position, she could not stir it. In her agony, she +would have been willing to have torn her dress; but it was her +travelling-dress, and too stout to tear. She might cut it carefully. +Alas, she had packed her scissors, and her knife she had lent to the +little boys the day before! She called again. What silence there was +in the house! Her voice seemed to echo through the room. At +length, as she listened, she heard the sound of wheels. + +Was it the carriage, rolling away from the side door? Did she hear +the front door shut? She remembered then that Amanda was to +"have the day." But she, Elizabeth Eliza, was to have spoken to +Amanda, to explain to her to wait for the expressman. She was to +have told her as she went downstairs. But she had not been able to +go downstairs! And Amanda must have supposed that all the +family had left, and she, too, must have gone, knowing of the +expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! She heard the front door +shut! + +But could they have gone without her? Then she recalled that she +had proposed walking on a little way with Solomon John and her +father, to be picked up by Mrs. Peterkin, if she should have +finished her packing in time. Her mother must have supposed that +she had done so,that she had spoken to Amanda, and started with +the rest. Well, she would soon discover her mistake. She would +overtake the walking party, and, not finding Elizabeth Eliza, +would return for her. Patience only was needed. She had looked +around for something to read; but she had packed up all her +books. She had packed her knitting. How quiet and still it was! She +tried to imagine where her mother would meet the rest of the +family. They were good walkers, and they might have reached the +two-mile bridge. But suppose they should stop for water beneath +the arch of the bridge, as they often did, and the carryall pass over +it without seeing them, her mother would not know but she was +with them? And suppose her mother should decide to leave the +horse at the place proposed for stopping and waiting for the first +pedestrian party, and herself walk on, no one would be left to tell +the rest, when they should come up to the carryall. They might go +on so, through the whole journey, without meeting, and she might +not be missed till they should reach her grandfather's! + +Horrible thought! She would be left here alone all day. The +expressman would come, but the expressman would go, for he +would not be able to get into the house! + + She thought of the terrible story of Ginevra, of the bride who was +shut up in her trunk, and forever! She was shut up on hers, and +knew not when she should be released! She had acted once in the +ballad of the "Mistletoe Bough." She had been one of the "guests," +who had sung "Oh, the Mistletoe Bough," and had looked up at it, +and she had seen at the side-scenes how the bride had laughingly +stepped into the trunk. But the trunk then was only a make-believe +of some boards in front of a sofa, and this was a stern reality. + +It would be late now before her family would reach her +grandfather's. Perhaps they would decide to spend the night. +Perhaps they would fancy she was coming by express. She gave +another tremendous effort to move the trunk toward the door. + +In vain. All was still. + + Meanwhile, Mrs. Peterkin sat some time at the door, wondering +why Elizabeth Eliza did not come down. Mr. Peterkin had started +on with Solomon John and all the little boys. Agamemnon had +packed the things into the carriage,a basket of lunch, a change of +shoes for Mr. Peterkin, some extra wraps,everything Mrs. + +Peterkin could think of, for the family comfort. Still Elizabeth +Eliza did not come. "I think she must have walked on with your +father," she said, at last; "you had better get in." Agamemnon now +got in. "I should think she would have mentioned it," she +continued; "but we may as well start on, and pick her up!" + +They started off. "I hope Elizabeth Eliza thought to speak to +Amanda, but we must ask her when we come up with her." + +But they did not come up with Elizabeth Eliza. At the turn beyond +the village, they found an envelope struck up in an inviting +manner against a tree. In this way, they had agreed to leave +missives for each other as they passed on. This note informed +them that the walking party was going to take the short cut across +the meadows, and would still be in front of them. They saw the +party at last, just beyond the short cut; but Mr. Peterkin was +explaining the character of the oak-tree to his children as they +stood around a large specimen. + +"I suppose he is telling them that it is some kind of a 'Quercus,'" +said Agamemnon, thoughtfully. + +Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely use such an +expression, but she could see nothing of Elizabeth Eliza. Some of +the party, however, were behind the tree, some were in front, and +Elizabeth Eliza might be behind the tree. They were too far off to +be shouted at. Mrs. Peterkin was calmed, and went on to the +stopping-lace agreed upon, which they reached before long. This +had been appointed near Farmer Gordon's barn, that there might +be somebody at hand whom they knew, in case there should be +any difficulty in untying the horse. The plan had been that Mrs. +Peterkin should always sit in the carriage, while the others should +take turns for walking; and Agamemnon tied the horse to a fence, +and left her comfortably arranged with her knitting. Indeed, she +had risen so early to prepare for the alphabetical breakfast, and +had since been so tired with preparations, that she was quite +sleepy, and would not object to a nape in the shade, by the +soothing sound of the buzzing of the flies. But she called +Agamemnon back, as he started off for his solitary walk, with a +perplexing question: + +"Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be +accommodated in the carryall? It would be too much for the +horse! Why had Elizabeth Eliza gone with the rest without +counting up? Of course, they must have expected that sheMrs. + +Peterkinwould walk on to the next stopping-place!" + +She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the +rest passed her, they might make a change. So she put up knitting +cheerfully. It was a little joggly in the carriage, she had already +found, for the horse was restless from the flies, and she did not +like being left alone. + +She walked on then with Agamemnon. It was very pleasant at first, +but the sun became hot, and it was not long before she was +fatigued. When they reached a hay-field, she proposed going in to +rest upon one of the hay-cocks. The largest and most shady was at +the other end of the field, and they were seated there when the +carryall passed them in the road. Mrs. Peterkin waved parasol and +hat, and the party in the carryall returned their greetings, but they +were too far apart to hear each other. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon slowly resumed their walk. + +"Well, we shall find Elizabeth Eliza in the carryall," she said, "and +that will explain all." + +But it took them an hour or two to reach the carryall, with frequent +stoppings for rest, and when they reached it, no one was in it. A +note was pinned up in the vehicle to say they had all walked on; it +was "prime fun." + +In this way the parties continued to dodge each other, for Mrs. +Peterkin felt that she must walk on from the next station, and the +carryall missed her again while she and Agamemnon stopped in a +house to rest, and for a glass of water. + +She reached the carryall to find again that no one was in it. The +party had passed on for the last station, where it had been decided +all should meet at the foot of grandfather's hill, that they might all +arrive at the house together. + +Mrs. Peterkin and Agamemnon looked out eagerly for the party all +the way, as Elizabeth Eliza must be tired by this time; but Mrs. +Peterkin's last walk had been so slow, that the other party was far +in advance and reached the stopping-place before them. The little +boys were all rowed out on the stone fence, awaiting them, full of +delight at having reached grandfather's. Mr. + +Peterkin came forward to meet them, and, at the same moment +with Mrs. Peterkin, exclaimed: "Where is Elizabeth Eliza?" Each +party looked eagerly at the other; no Elizabeth Eliza was to be +seen. Where was she? What was to be done? Was she left behind? +Mrs. Peterkin was convinced she must have somehow got to +grandfather's. They hurried up the hill. Grandfather and all the +family came out to greet them, for they had been seen +approaching. There was great questioning, but no Elizabeth Eliza! + +It was sunset; the view was wide and fine. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin +stood and looked out from the north to the south. Was it too late +to send back for Elizabeth Eliza? Where was she? + +Meanwhile the little boys had been informing the family of the +object of their visit, and while Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were looking +up and down the road, and Agamemnon and Solomon John were +explaining to each other the details of their journeys, they had +discovered some facts. + +"We shall have to go back," they exclaimed. "We are too late! The +maple-syrup was all made last spring." + +"We are too early; we shall have to stay two or three months, the +cider is not made till October." + +The expedition was a failure! They could study the making of +neither maple-syrup nor cider, and Elizabeth Eliza was lost, +perhaps forever! The sun went down, and Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin +still stood to look up and down the road. + +. . . . . . . . . . . Elizabeth Eliza meanwhile, had sat upon her trunk, +as it seemed for ages. She recalled all the terrible stories of +prisoners,how they had watched the growth of flowers through +cracks in the pavement. She wondered how long she could live +without eating. How thankful she was for her abundant breakfast! + +At length she heard the door-bell. But who could go to the door to +answer it? In vain did she make another effort to escape; it was +impossible! + +How singular!there were footsteps. Some one was going to the +door; some one had opened it. "They must be burglars." Well, +perhaps that was a better fateto be gagged by burglars, and the +neighbors informedthan to be forever locked on her trunk. The +steps approached the door. It opened, and Amanda ushered in the +expressman. + +Amanda had not gone. She had gathered, while waiting at the +breakfast-table, that there was to be an expressman whom she +must receive. + +Elizabeth Eliza explained the situation. The expressman turned the +key of her trunk, and she was released! + +What should she do next? So long a time had elapsed, she had +given up all hope of her family returning for her. But how could +she reach them? + +She hastily prevailed upon the expressman to take her along until +she should come up with some of the family. At least she would +fall in with either the walking party or the carryall, or she would +meet them if they were on their return. + +She mounted the seat with the expressman, and slowly they took +their way, stopping for occasional parcels as they left the village. + +But much to Elizabeth Eliza's dismay, they turned off from the +main road on leaving the village. She remonstrated, but the driver +insisted he must go round by Millikin's to leave a bedstead. They +went round by Millikin's, and then had further turns to make. +Elizabeth Eliza explained that in this way it would be impossible +for her to find her parents and family, and at last he proposed to +take her all the way with her trunk. She remembered with a +shudder that when she had first asked about her trunk, he had +promised it should certainly be delivered the next morning. +Suppose they should have to be out all night? Where did +express-carts spend the night? She thought of herself in a lone +wood, in an express-wagon! She could hardly bring herself to ask, +before assenting, when he should arrive. + +"He guessed he could bring up before night." + +And so it happened that as Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin in the late sunset +were looking down the hill, wondering what they should do about +the lost Elizabeth Eliza, they saw an express wagon approaching. +A female form sat upon the front seat. + +"She has decided to come by express," said Mrs. Peterkin. "It isit +isElizabeth Eliza!" + + THE PETERKINS AT THE "CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS" IN +BOSTON. THE Peterkins were in quite a muddle (for them) about +the carnival of authors, to be given in Boston. As soon as it was +announced, their interests were excited, and they determined that +all the family should go. + +But they conceived a wrong idea of the entertainment, as they +supposed that every one must go in costume. Elizabeth Eliza +thought their lessons in the foreign languages would help them +much in conversing in character. + +As the carnival was announced early Solomon John thought there +would be time to read up everything written by all the authors, in +order to be acquainted with the characters they introduced. Mrs. +Peterkin did not wish to begin too early upon the reading, for she +was sure she should forget all that the different authors had +written before the day came. + +But Elizabeth Eliza declared that she should hardly have time +enough, as it was, to be acquainted with all the authors. She had +given up her French lessons, after taking six, for want of time, and +had, indeed, concluded she had learned in them all she should +need to know of that language. She could repeat one or two pages +of phrases, and she was astonished to find how much she could +understand already of what the French teacher said to her; and he +assured her that when she went to Paris she could at least ask the +price of gloves, or of some other things she would need, and he +taught her, too, how to pronounce "garon," in calling for more. + +Agamemnon thought that different members of the family might +make themselves familiar with different authors; the little boys +were already acquainted with "Mother Goose." Mr. Peterkin had +read the "Pickwick Papers," and Solomon John had actually seen +Mr. Longfellow getting into a horse-car. + +Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the Turk to give +lectures upon the "Arabian Nights." Everybody else was planning +something of the sort, to "raise funds" for some purpose, and she +was sure they ought not to be behindhand. Mrs. + +Peterkin approved of this. It would be excellent if they could raise +funds enough to pay for their own tickets to the carnival; then they +could go every night. + +Elizabeth Eliza was uncertain. She thought it was usual to use the +funds for some object. Mr. Peterkin said that if they gained funds +enough they might arrange a booth of their own, and sit in it, and +take the carnival comfortably. + +But Agamemnon reminded him that none of the family were +authors, and only authors had booths. Solomon John, indeed, had +once started upon writing a book, but he was not able to think of +anything to put in it, and nothing had occurred to him yet. + +Mr. Peterkin urged him to make one more effort. If his book could +come out before the carnival he could go as an author, and might +have a booth of his own, and take his family. + +But Agamemnon declared it would take years to become an +author. You might indeed publish something, but you had to make +sure that it would be read. Mrs. + +Peterkin, on the other hand, was certain that libraries were filled +with books that never were read, yet authors had written them. For +herself, she had not read half the books in their own library. And +she was glad there was to be a Carnival of Authors, that she might +know who they were. + +Mr. Peterkin did not understand why they called them a +"Carnival"; but he supposed they should find out when they went +to it. + +Mrs. Peterkin still felt uncertain about costumes. She proposed +looking over the old trunks in the garret. They would find some +suitable dresses there, and these would suggest what characters +they should take. Elizabeth Eliza was pleased with this thought. +She remembered an old turban of white mull muslin, in an old +bandbox, and why should not her mother wear it? + + Mrs. Peterkin supposed that she should then go as her own +grandmother. + +Agamemnon did not approve of this. Turbans are now worn in the +East, and Mrs. + +Peterkin could go in some Eastern character. Solomon John +thought she might be Cleopatra, and this was determined on. +Among the treasures found were some old bonnets, of large size, +with waving plumes. Elizabeth Eliza decided upon the largest of +these. + + She was tempted to appear as Mrs. Columbus, as Solomon John +was to take the character of Christopher Columbus; but he was +planning to enter upon the stage in a boat, and Elizabeth Eliza was +a little afraid of sea-sickness, as he had arranged to be a great +while finding the shore. + +Solomon John had been led to take this character by discovering a +coal-hod that would answer for a helmet; then, as Christopher +Columbus was born in Genoa, he could use the phrases in Italian +he had lately learned of his teacher. + +As the day approached the family had their costumes prepared. + +Mr. Peterkin decided to be Peter the Great. It seemed to him a +happy thought, for the few words of Russian he had learned would +come in play, and he was quite sure that his own family name +made him kin to that of the great Czar. He studied up the life in +the Encyclopdia, and decided to take the costume of a +ship-builder. He visited the navy-yard and some of the docks; but +none of them gave him the true idea of dress for ship-building in +Holland or St. Petersburg. + +But he found a picture of Peter the Great, representing him in a +broad-brimmed hat. So he assumed one that he found at a +costumer's, and with Elizabeth Eliza's black waterproof was +satisfied with his own appearance. + +Elizabeth Eliza wondered if she could not go with her father in +some Russian character. She would have to lay aside her large +bonnet, but she had seen pictures of Russian ladies, with fur muffs +on their heads, and she might wear her own muff. + +Mrs. Peterkin, as Cleopatra, wore the turban, with a little row of +false curls in front, and a white embroidered muslin shawl crossed +over her black silk dress. The little boys thought she looked much +like the picture of their great-grandmother. But doubtless +Cleopatra resembled this picture, as it was all so long ago, so the +rest of the family decided. + +Agamemnon determined to go as Noah. The costume, as +represented in one of the little boys' arks, was simple. His father's +red-lined dressing gown, turned inside out, permitted it easily. + +Elizabeth Eliza was now anxious to be Mrs. Shem, and make a +long dress of yellow flannel, and appear with Agamemnon and the +little boys. For the little boys were to represent two doves and a +raven. There were feather-dusters enough in the family for their +costumes, which would be then complete with their india-rubber +boots. + +Solomon John carried out in detail his idea of Christopher +Columbus. He had a number of eggs boiled hard to take in his +pocket, proposing to repeat, through the evening, the scene of +setting the egg on its end. He gave up the plan of a boat, as it must +be difficult to carry one into town; so he contented himself by +practising the motion of landing by stepping up on a chair. + +But what scene could Elizabeth Eliza carry out? If they had an ark, +as Mrs. Shem she might crawl in and out of the roof constantly, if +it were not too high. But Mr. Peterkin thought it as difficult to +take an ark into town as Solomon John's boat. + +The evening came. But with all their preparations they got to the +hall late. The entrance was filled with a crowd of people, and, as +they stopped at the cloakroom, to leave their wraps, they found +themselves entangled with a number of people in costume coming +out from a dressing-room below. Mr. Peterkin was much +encouraged. They were thus joining the performers. The band was +playing the "Wedding March" as they went upstairs to a door of +the hall which opened upon one side of the stage. Here a +procession was marching up the steps of the stage, all in costume, +and entering behind the scenes. + +"We are just in the right time," whispered Mr. Peterkin to his +family; "they are going upon the stage; we must fall into line." +The little boys had their feather-dusters ready. Some words from +one of the managers made Peterkin understand the situation. + +"We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens," he said. + +"I thought he was dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin trembling. + +"Authors live forever!" said Agamemnon in her ear. + +At this moment they were ushered upon the stage. The stage +manager glared at them, as he awaited their names for +introduction, while they came up all unannounced,a part of the +programme not expected. But he uttered the words upon his lips, +"Great Expectations;" and the Peterkin family swept across the +stage with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as Peter the Great, Mrs. +Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as Noah, Solomon John as +Christopher Columbus, Elizabeth Eliza in yellow flannel as Mrs. +Shem, with a large, old-fashioned bonnet on her head as Mrs. +Columbus, and the little boys behind as two doves and a raven. + +Across the stage, in face of all the assembled people, then +following the rest down the stairs on the other side, in among the +audience, they went; but into an audience not dressed in costume! + +There were Ann Maria Bromwick and the Osbornes,all the +neighbors,all as natural as though they were walking the streets at +home, though Ann Maria did wear white gloves. + +"I had no idea you were to appear in character," said Ann Maria to +Elizabeth Eliza; "to what booth do you belong?" + +"We are no particular author," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Ah, I see, a sort of varieties' booth," said Mr. Osborne. + +"What is your character?" asked Ann Maria of Elizabeth Eliza. + +"I have not quite decided," said Elizabeth Eliza. "I thought I should +find out after I came here. The marshal called us 'Great +Expectations.'" + +Mrs. Peterkin was at the summit of bliss. "I have shaken hands +with Dickens!" + +she exclaimed. + +But she looked round to ask the little boys if they, too, had shaken +hands with the great man, but not a little boy could she find. + +They had been swept off in Mother Goose's train, which had +lingered on the steps to see the Dickens reception, with which the +procession of characters in costume had closed. At this moment +they were dancing round the barberry bush, in a corner of the +balcony in Mother Goose's quarters, their feather-dusters gayly +waving in the air. + +But Mrs. Peterkin, far below, could not see this, and consoled +herself with the thought, they should all meet on the stage in the +grand closing tableau. She was bewildered by the crowds which +swept her hither and thither. At last she found herself in the +Whittier Booth, and sat a long time calmly there. As Cleopatra she +seemed out of place, but as her own grandmother she answered +well with its New England scenery. + +Solomon John wandered about, landing in America whenever he +found a chance to enter a booth. Once before an admiring +audience he set up his egg in the centre of the Goethe Booth, +which had been deserted by its committee for the larger stage. + +Agamemnon frequently stood in the background of scenes in the +Arabian Nights. + +It was with difficulty that the family could be repressed from going +on the stage whenever the bugle sounded for the different groups +represented there. + +Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the "Dream of Fair +Women," at its most culminating point. + +Mr. Peterkin found himself with the "Cricket on the Hearth," in the +Dickens Booth. He explained that he was Peter the Great, but +always in the Russian language, which was never understood. + +Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every +manager was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to +some other, and she passed along, always trying to explain that +she had not yet decided upon her character. + + Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth. + +"I cannot understand," he said, "why none of our friends are +dressed in costume, and why we are." + +"I rather like it," said Elizabeth Eliza, "though I should be better +pleased if I could form a group with some one." + +The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join +the performers. It was the dance of her youth. + +But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led +to the stage. + +"I cannot understand this company," he said, distractedly. + +"They cannot find their booth," said another. + +"That is the case," said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated. + +"Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor," said a polite +marshal. + +They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the +refreshment-room. + +"This is the booth for us," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"Indeed it is," said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted. + +At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,the little boys, +who had been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose's establishment, +and now came down for ice-cream. + +"I hardly know how to sit down," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for I am +sure Mrs. Shem never could. Still, as I do not know if I am Mrs. +Shem, I will venture it." + +Happily, seats were to be found for all, and they were soon +arranged in a row, calmly eating ice-cream. + +"I think the truth is," said Mr. Peterkin, "that we represent +historical people, and we ought to have been fictitious characters +in books. That is, I observe, what the others are. We shall know +better another time." + +"If we only ever get home," said Mrs. Peterkin, "I shall not wish to +come again. + +It seems like being on the stage, sitting in a booth, and it is so +bewildering, Elizabeth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going +round and round in this way." + +"I am afraid we shall never reach home," said Agamemnon, who +had been silent for some time; "we may have to spend the night +here. I find I have lost our checks for our clothes in the +cloak-room! " + +"Spend the night in a booth, in Cleopatra's turban!" exclaimed Mrs. +Peterkin. + +"We should like to come every night," cried the little boys. + +"But to spend the night," repeated Mrs. Peterkin. + +"I conclude the Carnival keeps up all night," said Mr. Peterkin. + +"But never to recover our cloaks," said Mrs. Peterkin; "could not +the little boys look round for the checks on the floors? " + +She began to enumerate the many valuable things that they might +never see again. + +She had worn her large fur cape of stone-marten,her +grandmother's,that Elizabeth Eliza had been urging her to have +made into a foot-rug. Now how she wished she had! And there +were Mr. Peterkin's new overshoes, and Agamemnon had brought +an umbrella, and the little boys had their mittens. Their +india-rubber boots, fortunately, they had on, in the character of +birds. But Solomon John had worn a fur cap, and Elizabeth Eliza +a muff. Should they lose all these valuables entirely, and go home +in the cold without them? No, it would be better to wait till +everybody had gone, and then look carefully over the floors for the +checks; if only the little boys could know where Agamemnon had +been, they were willing to look. Mr. Peterkin was not sure as they +would have time to reach the train. + +Still, they would need something to wear, and he could not tell the +time. He had not brought his watch. It was a Waltham watch, and +he thought it would not be in character for Peter the Great to wear +it. + +At this moment the strains of "Home, Sweet Home" were heard +from the band, and people were seen preparing to go. + +"All can go home, but we must stay," said Mrs. Peterkin, gloomily, +as the well-known strains floated in from the larger hall. + +A number of marshals came to the refreshment-room, looked at +them, whispered to each other, as the Peterkins sat in a row. + +"Can we do anything for you?" asked one at last. "Would you not +like to go?" He seemed eager they should leave the room. + +Mr. Peterkin explained that they could not go, as they had lost the +checks for their wraps, and hoped to find their checks on the floor +when everybody was gone. The marshal asked if they could not +describe what they had worn, in which case the loss of the checks +was not so important, as the crowds had now almost left, and it +would not be difficult to identify their wraps. Mrs. Peterkin +eagerly declared she could describe every article. + +It was astonishing how the marshals hurried them through the +quickly deserted corridors, how gladly they recovered their +garments! Mrs. Peterkin, indeed, was disturbed by the eagerness +of the marshals; she feared they had some pretext for getting the +family out of the hall. Mrs. Peterkin was one of those who never +consent to be forced to anything. She would not be compelled to +go home, even with strains of music. She whispered her +suspicions to Mr. Peterkin; but Agamemnon came hastily up to +announce the time, which he had learned from the clock in the +large hall. They must leave directly if they wished to catch the +latest train, as there was barely time to reach it. + +Then, indeed, was Mrs. Peterkin ready to leave. If they should miss +the train! + +If she should have to pass the night in the streets in her turban! She +was the first to lead the way, and, panting, the family followed +her, just in time to take the train as it was leaving the station. + +The excitement was not yet over. They found in the train many of +their friends and neighbors, returning also from the Carnival; so +they had many questions put to them which they were unable to +answer. Still Mrs. Peterkin's turban was much admired, and +indeed the whole appearance of the family; so that they felt +themselves much repaid for their exertions. + +But more adventures awaited them. They left the train with their +friends; but as Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza were very tired, +they walked very slowly, and Solomon John and the little boys +were sent on with the pass-key to open the door. They soon +returned with the startling intelligence that it was not the right +key, and they could not get in. It was Mr. Peterkin's office-key; he +had taken it by mistake, or he might have dropped the house-key +in the cloak-room of the Carnival. + +"Must we go back?" sighed Mrs. Peterkin, in an exhausted voice. +More than ever did Elizabeth Eliza regret that Agamemnon's +invention in keys had failed to secure a patent! + +It was impossible to get into the house, for Amanda had been +allowed to go and spend the night with a friend, so there was no +use in ringing, though the little boys had tried it. + +"We can return to the station," said Mr. Peterkin; "the rooms will +be warm, on account of the midnight train. We can, at least, think +what we shall do next." + +At the station was one of their neighbors, proposing to take the +New York midnight train, for it was now after eleven, and the +train went through at half-past. + +"I saw lights at the locksmith's over the way, as I passed," he said; +"why do not you send over to the young man there? He can get +your door open for you. I never would spend the night here." + +Solomon John went over to "the young man," who agreed to go up +to the house as soon as he had closed the shop, fit a key, and open +the door, and come back to them on his way home. Solomon John +came back to the station, for it was now cold and windy in the +deserted streets. The family made themselves as comfortable as +possible by the stove, sending Solomon John out occasionally to +look for the young man. But somehow Solomon John missed him; +the lights were out in the locksmith's shop, so he followed along +to the house, hoping to find him there. + +But he was not there! He came back to report. Perhaps the young +man had opened the door and gone on home. Solomon John and +Agamemnon went back together, but they could not get in. Where +was the young man? He had lately come to town, and nobody +knew where he lived, for on the return of Solomon John and +Agamemnon it had been proposed to go to the house of the young +man. The night was wearing on. + +The midnight train had come and gone. The passengers who came +and went looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nodding in her +turban, as she sat by the stove, on a corner of a long bench. At last +the station-master had to leave, for a short rest. He felt obliged to +lock up the station, but he promised to return at an early hour to +release them. + +"Of what use," said Elizabeth Eliza, "if we cannot even then get +into our own house?" + +Mr. Peterkin thought the matter appeared bad, if the locksmith had +left town. He feared the young man might have gone in, and +helped himself to spoons, and left. + +Only they should have seen him if he had taken the midnight train. +Solomon John thought he appeared honest. Mr. Peterkin only +ventured to whisper his suspicions, as he did not wish to arouse +Mrs. Peterkin, who still was nodding in the corner of the long +bench. + +Morning did come at last. The family decided to go to their home; +perhaps by some effort in the early daylight they might make an +entrance. + +On the way they met with the night-policeman, returning from his +beat. He stopped when he saw the family. + + "Ah ! that accounts," he said; "you were all out last night, and the +burglars took occasion to make a raid on your house. I caught a +lively young man in the very act; box of tools in his hand! If I had +been a minute late he would have made his way in" The family +then tried to interruptto explain "Where is he?" exclaimed Mr. +Peterkin. + +"Safe in the lock-up," answered the policeman. + +"But he is the locksmith!" interrupted Solomon John. + +"We have no key!" said Elizabeth Eliza; "if you have locked up the +locksmith we can never get in." + +The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when +he understood the case. + +"The locksmith!" he exclaimed; "he is a new fellow, and I did not +recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him +out, that he may let you in!" + +and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin family with what +seemed like insulting screams of laughter. + +"It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him," said +Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the +house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons ? And why +did he appear so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was +locked up in the closet of their room. Slowly the family walked +towards the house, and, almost as soon as they, the policeman +appeared with the released locksmith, and a few boys from the +street, who happened to be out early. + +The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes +of the policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to +open the door, pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The +door flew open; the family could go in. + +Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. +Mrs. Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. "I shall never go to +another carnival!" she exclaimed. + + THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. YES, at last they had +reached the seaside, after much talking and deliberation, and +summer after summer the journey had been constantly postponed. + +But here they were at last, at the "Old Farm," so called, where +seaside attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And +here they were to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the +place, cousins of Ann Maria Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was +astonished not to find them there, though she had not expected +Ann Maria to join them till the very next day. + +Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the +whole thing had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their +trunks, to be sure, had not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent +back for them, and, wonderful to tell, they had all their +hand-baggage safe. + +Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and +Apparatus, and the volumes of the Encyclopdia that might tell +him how to manage it, and Solomon John had his photograph +camera. The little boys had used their india-rubber boots as +portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and carrying one in each +hand,a very convenient way for travelling they considered it; but +they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their boots +directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat +inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely +room enough could be found for all the contents in the small +chamber allotted to them. + +There was no room in the house for the electrical machine and +camera. Elizabeth Eliza thought the other boarders were afraid of +the machine going off; so an out-house was found for them, where +Agamemnon and Solomon John could arrange them. + +Mrs. Peterkin was much pleased with the old-fashioned porch and +low-studded rooms, though the sleeping-rooms seemed a little +stuffy at first. + + Mr. Peterkin was delighted with the admirable order in which the +farm was evidently kept. From the first moment he arrived he +gave himself to examining the well-stocked stables and barns, and +the fields and vegetable gardens, which were shown to him by a +highly intelligent person, a Mr. Atwood, who devoted himself to +explaining to Mr. Peterkin all the details of methods in the +farming. + + The rest of the family were disturbed at being so far from the sea, +when they found it would take nearly all the afternoon to reach +the beach. The advertisements had surely stated that the "Old +Farm" was directly on the shore, and that sea-bathing would be +exceedingly convenient; which was hardly the case if it took you +an hour and a half to walk to it. + +Mr. Peterkin declared there were always such discrepancies +between the advertisements of seaside places and the actual facts; +but he was more than satisfied with the farm part, and was glad to +remain and admire it, while the rest of the family went to find the +beach, starting off in a wagon large enough to accommodate +them, Agamemnon driving the one horse. + +Solomon John had depended upon taking the photographs of the +family in a row on the beach; but he decided not to take his +camera out the first afternoon. + +This was well, as the sun was already setting when they reached +the beach. + +"If this wagon were not so shaky," said Mrs. Peterkin "we might +drive over every morning for our bath. The road is very straight, +and I suppose Agamemnon can turn on the beach." + +"We should have to spend the whole day about it," said Solomon +John, in a discouraged tone, "unless we can have a quicker horse." + +"Perhaps we should prefer that," said Elizabeth Eliza, a little +gloomily, "to staying at the house." + +She had been a little disturbed to find there were not more elegant +and fashionable-looking boarders at the farm, and she was +disappointed that the Sylvesters had not arrived, who would +understand the ways of the place. Yet, again, she was somewhat +relieved, for if their trunks did not come till the next day, as was +feared, she should have nothing but her travelling dress to wear, +which would certainly answer for to-night. + +She had been busy all the early summer in preparing her dresses +for this very watering-place, and, as far as appeared, she would +hardly need them, and was disappointed to have no chance to +display them. But of course, when the Sylvesters and Ann Maria +came, all would be different; but they would surely be wasted on +the two old ladies she had seen, and on the old men who had +lounged about the porch; there surely was not a gentleman among +them. + +Agamemnon assured her she could not tell at the seaside, as +gentlemen wore their exercise dress, and took a pride in going +around in shocking hats and flannel suits. Doubtless they would +be dressed for dinner on their return. + +On their arrival they had been shown to a room to have their meals +by themselves, and could not decide whether they were eating +dinner or lunch. There was a variety of meat, vegetables, and pie, +that might come under either name; but Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin +were well pleased. + +"I had no idea we should have really farm-fare," Mrs. Peterkin +said. "I have not drunk such a tumbler of milk since I was young." + +Elizabeth Eliza concluded they ought not to judge from a first +meal, as evidently their arrival had not been fully prepared for, in +spite of the numerous letters that had been exchanged. + +The little boys were, however, perfectly satisfied from the moment +of their arrival, and one of them had stayed at the farm, declining +to go to the beach, as he wished to admire the pigs, cows, and +horses; and all the way over to the beach the other little boys were +hopping in and out of the wagon, which never went too fast, to +pick long mullein-stalks, for whips to urge on the reluctant horse +with, or to gather huckleberries, with which they were rejoiced to +find the fields were filled, although, as yet, the berries were very +green. + +They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally +reached it; but Mrs. + +Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as +it was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night. + +On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They +found the same old men, in the same costume, standing against +the porch. + +"A little seedy, I should say," said Solomon John. + +"Smoking pipes," said Agamemnon; "I believe that is the latest +style." + +"The smell of their tobacco is not very agreeable," Mrs. Peterkin +was forced to say. + +There seemed the same uncertainty on their arrival as to where +they were to be put, and as to their meals. + +Elizabeth Eliza tried to get into conversation with the old ladies, +who were wandering in and out of a small sitting-room. But one +of them was very deaf, and the other seemed to be a foreigner. +She discovered from a moderately tidy maid, by the name of +Martha, who seemed a sort of factotum, that there were other +ladies in their rooms, too much of invalids to appear. + +"Regular bed-ridden," Martha had described them, which +Elizabeth Eliza did not consider respectful. + +Mr. Peterkin appeared coming down the slope of the hill behind +the house, very cheerful. He had made the tour of the farm, and +found it in admirable order. + +Elizabeth Eliza felt it time to ask Martha about the next meal, and +ventured to call it supper, as a sort of compromise between dinner +and tea. If dinner were expected she might offend by taking it for +granted that it was to be "tea," and if they were unused to a late +dinner they might be disturbed if they had only provided a "tea." + +So she asked what was the usual hour for supper, and was +surprised when Martha replied, "The lady must say," nodding to +Mrs. Peterkin. "She can have it just when she wants, and just what +she wants!" + +This was an unexpected courtesy. + +Elizabeth Eliza asked when the others had their supper. + +"Oh, they took it a long time ago," Martha answered. "If the lady +will go out into the kitchen she can tell what she wants." + +"Bring us in what you have," said Mr. Peterkin, himself quite +hungry. "If you could cook us a fresh slice of beefsteak that would +be well." + +"Perhaps some eggs," murmured Mrs. Peterkin. + +"Scrambled," cried one of the little boys. + +"Fried potatoes would not be bad," suggested Agamemnon. + +"Couldn't we have some onions?" asked the little boy who had +stayed at home, and had noticed the odor of onions when the +others had their supper. + +"A pie would come in well," said Solomon John. + +"And some stewed cherries," said the other little boy. + +Martha fell to laying the table, and the family was much pleased, +when, in the course of time, all the dishes they had recommended +appeared. Their appetites were admirable, and they pronounced +the food the same. + +"This is true Arab hospitality," said Mr. Peterkin, as he cut his +juicy beefsteak. + +"I know it," said Elizabeth Eliza, whose spirits began to rise. "We +have not even seen the host and hostess." + +She would, indeed, have been glad to find some one to tell her +when the Sylvesters were expected, and why they had not arrived. +Her room was in the wing, far from that of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, +and near the aged deaf and foreign ladies, and she was kept awake +for some time by perplexed thoughts. + +She was sure the lady from Philadelphia, under such +circumstances, would have written to somebody. But ought she to +write to Ann Maria or the Sylvesters? And, if she did write, which +had she better write to? She fully determined to write, the first +thing in the morning, to both parties. But how should she address +her letters ? Would there be any use in sending to the Sylvesters' +usual address, which she knew well by this time, merely to say +they had not come? Of course the Sylvesters would know they had +not come. It would be the same with Ann Maria. + +She might, indeed, inclose her letters to their several postmasters. +Postmasters were always so obliging, and always knew where +people were going to, and where to send their letters. She might, +at least, write two letters, to say that theythe Peterkinshad +arrived, and were disappointed not to find the Sylvesters. And she +could add that their trunks had not arrived, and perhaps their +friends might look out for them on their way. It really seemed a +good plan to write. Yet another question came up, as to how she +would get her letters to the post-office, as she had already learned +it was at quite a distance, and in a different direction from the +station, where they were to send the next day for their trunks. + +She went over and over these same questions, kept awake by the +coughing and talking of her neighbors, the other side of the thin +partition. + +She was scarcely sorry to be aroused from her uncomfortable sleep +by the morning sounds of guinea-hens, peacocks, and every other +kind of fowl. + +Mrs. Peterkin expressed her satisfaction at the early breakfast, and +declared she was delighted with such genuine farm sounds. + +They passed the day much as the afternoon before, reaching the +beach only in time to turn round to come back for their dinner, +which was appointed at noon. + +Mrs. Peterkin was quite satisfied. "Such a straight road, and the +beach such a safe place to turn round upon!" + +Elizabeth Eliza was not so well pleased. A wagon had been sent to +the station for their trunks, which could not be found; they were +probably left at the Boston station, or, Mr. Atwood suggested, +might have been switched off upon one of the White Mountain +trains. There was no use to write any letters, as there was no way +to send them. Elizabeth Eliza now almost hoped the Sylvesters +would not come, for what should she do if the trunks did not come +and all her new dresses ? On her way over to the beach she had +been thinking what she should do with her new foulard and +cream-colored surah if the Sylvesters did not come, and if their +time was spent in only driving to the beach and back. But now, she +would prefer that the Sylvesters would not come till the dresses +and the trunks did. All she could find out, from inquiry, on +returning, was, "that another lot was expected on Saturday." The +next day she suggested: "Suppose we take our dinner with us to +the beach, and spend the day." The Sylvesters and Ann Maria then +would find them on the beach, where her travelling-dress would +be quite appropriate. "I am a little tired," she added, "of going +back and forward over the same road; but when the rest come we +can vary it." + +The plan was agreed to, but Mr. Peterkin and the little boys +remained to go over the farm again. + +They had an excellent picnic on the beach, under the shadow of a +ledge of sand. + +They were just putting up their things when they saw a party of +people approaching from the other end of the beach. + +"I am glad to see some pleasant-looking people at last," said +Elizabeth Eliza, and they all turned to walk toward them. + +As the other party drew near she recognized Ann Maria +Bromwick! And with her were the Sylvesters,so they proved to +be, for she had never seen them before. + +"What! you have come in our absence!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And we have been wondering what had become of you!" cried +Ann Maria. + +"I thought you would be at the farm before us," said Elizabeth +Eliza to Mr. + +Sylvester, to whom she was introduced. + +"We have been looking for you at the farm," he was saying to her. + +"But we are at the farm," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"And so are we!" said Ann Maria. + +"We have been there two days," said Mrs. Peterkin. + +"And so have we, at the 'Old Farm,' just at the end of the beach," +said Ann Maria. + +"Our farm is old enough," said Solomon John. + +"Whereabouts are you?" asked Mr. Sylvester. + +Elizabeth Eliza pointed to the road they had come. + +A smile came over Mr. Sylvester's face; he knew the country well. + +"You mean the farm-house behind the hill, at the end of the road?" +he asked. + +The Peterkins all nodded affirmatively. + +Ann Maria could not restrain herself, as broad smiles came over +the faces of all the party. + +"Why, that is the Poor-house!" she exclaimed. + +"The town farm," Mr. Sylvester explained, deprecatingly. + +The Peterkins were silent for a while. The Sylvesters tried not to +laugh. + +"There certainly were some disagreeable old men and women +there!" said Elizabeth Eliza, at last. + +"But we have surely been made very comfortable," Mrs. Peterkin +declared. + +"A very simple mistake," said Mr. Sylvester, continuing his +amusement. "Your trunks arrived all right at the 'Old Farm,' two +days ago." + +"Let us go back directly," said Elizabeth Eliza. + +"As directly as our horse will allow," said Agamemnon. + +Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. "Your rooms are +awaiting you," he said. "Why not come with us?" + +"We want to find Mr. Peterkin before we do anything else," said +Mrs. Peterkin. + +They rode back in silence, till Elizabeth Eliza said, "Do you +suppose they took us for paupers?" + +"We have not seen any 'they,'" said Solomon John, "except Mr. +Atwood." + +At the entrance of the farm-yard Mr. Peterkin met them. + +"I have been looking for you," he said. "I have just made a +discovery." + +"We have made it, too," said Elizabeth Eliza; "we are in the +poor-house." + +"How did you find it out?" Mrs. Peterkin asked of Mr. Peterkin. + +"Mr. Atwood came to me, puzzled with a telegram that had been +brought to him from the station, which he ought to have got two +days ago. It came from a Mr. + +Peters, whom they were expecting here this week, with his wife +and boys, to take charge of the establishment. He telegraphed to +say he cannot come till Friday. + +Now, Mr. Atwood had supposed we were the Peterses, whom he +had sent for the day we arrived, not having received this +telegram." + +"Oh, I see, I see!" said Mrs. Peterkin; "and we did get into a +muddle at the station!" + +Mr. Atwood met them at the porch. "I beg pardon," he said. "I hope +you have found it comfortable here, and shall be glad to have you +stay till Mr. Peters' family comes." + +At this moment wheels were heard. Mr. Sylvester had arrived, with +an open wagon, to take the Peterkins to the "Old Farm." + +Martha was waiting within the door, and said to Elizabeth Eliza, +"Beg pardon, miss, for thinking you was one of the inmates, and +putting you in that room. We thought it so kind of Mrs. Peters to +take you off every day with the other gentlemen, that looked so +wandering." + +Elizabeth Eliza did not know whether to laugh or to cry. + +Mr. Peterkin and the little boys decided to stay at the farm till +Friday. But Agamemnon and Solomon John preferred to leave +with Mr. Sylvester, and to take their electrical machine and +camera when they came for Mr. Peterkin. + +Mrs. Peterkin was tempted to stay another night, to be wakened +once more by the guinea-hens. But Elizabeth Eliza bore her off. +There was not much packing to be done. She shouted good-by into +the ears of the deaf old lady, and waved her hand to the foreign +one, and glad to bid farewell to the old men with their pipes, +leaning against the porch. + +"This time," she said, "it is not our trunks that were lost" + +"But we, as a family," said Mrs. Peterkin. + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Peterkin Papers, +by Lucretia P. Hale diff --git a/old/petpa10.zip b/old/petpa10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a14794b --- /dev/null +++ b/old/petpa10.zip |