1 UGRETIA P. HALE 
 i_- \^ u 
 
University of California Berkeley 
 
 Gift of 
 The Margery Hoffman Smith Trust 
 

 
 . 
 
 d / 
 
 XT " 
 
THE 
 
 PETERKIN PAPERS 
 
 BY 
 
 LUCRETIA P. HALE 
 
 Illustrations 
 
 EIGHTH EDITION 
 
 BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND 'COMPANY 
 
 1894 
 
Copyright, 1880 
 BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & COMPANY 
 
 and 1886 
 BY TICKNOR & COMPANY 
 
 All rights reserved 
 
 The Riverside Press, Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 Printed by H. O. Houghton & Company. 
 
THE PETERKIN PAPERS 
 
 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 hesi- 
 tated about publishing their Family Papers, and were decided 
 by referring the matter to the lady from Philadelphia. A little 
 uncertain 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. 
 
10 PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION. 
 
 Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would 
 not take so long to write as a letter, and would not be so ex- 
 pensive. 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 after- 
 noon of that very day, and all the next day, and for many days, 
 came streaming in answers on postals and in 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. 
 
CON TENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE ... 13 
 ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA'S PIANO . k . . . . , 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 DECODE TO KEEP A Cow .... 56 
 
 THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE . . . . . 63 
 
 MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY . 72 
 
 THE PETERKINS Too LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION 82 
 
12 CONTENTS. 
 
 PACK 
 
 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 PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. 
 
 HIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mis- 
 take. 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 cof- 
 fee; 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.) 
 
14: 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 Mrs. Peterkin said, "Yes," and Mr. Peterkin said, 
 
 "Very well," and all the chil- 
 dren 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 all 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, 
 
THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. 15 
 
 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. Peter- 
 kin 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 chem- 
 ist, "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, 
 
16 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 satis- 
 fied. 
 
 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 $1.37J 
 in gold. Gold was now 2.69|, 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, (t "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. ]STow, 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 
 
THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. 
 
 17 
 
 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 holly- 
 hocks, 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 r 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, 
 
18 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 
 
THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE. 19 
 
 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 opper- 
 mint 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 
 
20 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 thought a gt*eat 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. Sup- 
 pose 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. Solo- 
 mon John shouted with 
 joy; so did Agamemnon, 
 who had just finished his 
 sum; so did the little boys, 
 who had followed on. :c 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 ELIZAS PIANO. 
 
 21 
 
 ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZA'S PIANO. 
 
 LIZABETH 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 win- 
 dow, which Agamemnon could 
 dx^with his long arms. Then 
 Elizabeth Eliza should go round 
 upon the piazza, and open the 
 piano. Then she could have 
 
22 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 practised in the mornings with her 
 
 cloak on; but she was obliged to 
 give up her music in the even- 
 ings the family shivered so. 
 
 One day, when she was talk- 
 ing with the lady from Philadel- 
 phia, 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 
 
ABOUT ELIZABETH ELIZAS PIANO. 23 
 
 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 Phila- 
 delphia goes home again? " 
 
24 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. 
 
 HEY were sitting round the break- 
 fast-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. c We want a li- 
 brary." 
 
 :? We want a library ! " said 
 
 Solomon John. And all of them 
 
 exclaimed, " We want a library ! " 
 
 "Let us think how we shall 
 
THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. 
 
 25 
 
 get one," said Mrs. Peterkin. w 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. 
 
 w That's the bookcase 
 part," said Elizabeth Eliza; 
 "but where are the books?" 
 
 So they sat and thought 
 a little while, when Solomon 
 John exclaimed, w I will make 
 a book!" 
 
 They all looked at him 
 in wonder. 
 
 * Y e s ," 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. Peterkin put on her cape-bonnet, and the little 
 boys got into their india-rubber boots, and off they went. 
 
26 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 nut- 
 galls 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 min- 
 ister'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, 
 kut 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, how- 
 ever, 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, 
 
THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE. 
 
 so they could look at them quietly. 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 torch- 
 light 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 dis- 
 persed 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 book- 
 seller was just shutting up 
 his shop. However, he agreed 
 to go in and get a quill, 
 which he did, and they hur- 
 ried 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 
 
28 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. 
 
 29 
 
 MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. 
 
 morning Mrs. Peterkin was feel- 
 ing 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 morn- 
 ing!" 
 
 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 
 
30 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 his 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 
 
MRS. PETERKIN WISHES TO GO TO DRIVE. 31 
 
 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 car- 
 riage 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. 
 
32 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, f 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. 
 
 33 
 
 THE PETERKINS AT HOME. 
 
 AT DINNER. 
 
 NOTHER 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 pecu- 
 liarity 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, then 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 pre- 
 ferred 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. 
 
34 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 
 gour 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 dis- 
 satisfied 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, w Sup- 
 pose 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS AT HOME. 
 
 35 
 
 w 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. w Why didn't we think 
 of that?" said they, and ran home to tell their mother. 
 
THE PETER KIN PAPERS. 
 
 WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. 
 
 'HE 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. 
 
 w 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, 
 
WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. 37 
 
 half-way between the kitchen and dining-room, and there 
 were they all hungry to eat it! 
 
 "What is there for 
 dinner? " asked Mr. Peter- 
 kin. ^ 
 
 "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. 
 
 f 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 I " exclaimed the rest. 
 
38 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Pom- 
 peii." 
 
 c 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 pick- 
 
 axe." 
 
 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," sug- 
 gested 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. 
 
WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. 39 
 
 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. 
 
 W I suppose you remember the wise lady of Philadel- 
 phia, 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, axe, and pickaxe. 
 As he felt ii 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 din- 
 ner. 
 
 There was a family shout. 
 
40 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "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 next day, as to-day was almost gone, and 
 they had had tea. 
 
 But nobody listened. All sat down to the roast tur- 
 key, and Amanda warmed over the vegetables. 
 
 "Patient waiters are no losers," said Agamemnon. 
 
THE PETERKIN& SUMMER JOURNEY. 
 
 41 
 
 THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY. 
 
 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. 
 
THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "If we can get along," said Elizabeth Eliza, " with- 
 out 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, put- 
 ting away the old things, putting in the new. She 
 packed up all the clothes she could think of, both sum- 
 mer 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY. 
 
 43 
 
 W 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 even- 
 ing of the second day to see how she had succeeded. 
 Everything was packed, even the little boys' kite lay 
 smoothly on the top. 
 
 w 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 Aga- 
 
44 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 memnon, 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. 
 W I am afraid the trunk would not go on the back 
 
 of a car- 
 r i a g e," 
 said Mrs. 
 Peterkin. 
 "The 
 h a ckmaii 
 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. 
 
THE PETERKIN& SUMMER JOURNEY. 45 
 
 " 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, 9 ' 
 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 ; ob- 
 stacle something that stands in the way ; obstruction., 
 something that blocks up the passage ; Jiinderance, some- 
 thing 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 ex- 
 perience 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 
 
46 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 accommodat- 
 ing 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, w and we 
 have not been to see her this summer." 
 
THE PETERKINS' SUMMER JOURNEY. 4% 
 
 w She may think we have been neglecting her," sug- 
 gested Mr. Peterkin. 
 
 The little boys begged to be allowed to go and ask 
 her opinion about the kite. They came back in high 
 spirits. 
 
 w 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 ; 
 w 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 PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. 
 
 KS. PETERKUST 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 
 
 Ifc 
 
 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 
 
THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. 
 
 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 dis- 
 covered 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, shiv- 
 ering. 
 
 But a fire could be made in a stove in the dining-room. 
 
50 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 All were glad to sit down to breakfast and hot 
 coffee. The little boys were much pleased to have rt 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 Aga- 
 memnon, 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 Solo- 
 mon John, helping himself to another sausage. 
 
 " I almost wish we had stayed in bed," said Agamemnon. 
 rc 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- 
 
THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. 51 
 
 "We should have to ' corn' part of him," said Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 "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. 
 
52 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "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, pro- 
 foundly; "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- 
 
THE PETERKINS SNO WED-UP. 53 
 
 axe. He had kept one in the house ever since the ad- 
 venture 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 Eliza- 
 beth 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 gar- 
 den." 
 
 "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 
 
THE PETE ERIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Aga- 
 memnon, "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? 
 
THE PETERKINS SNOWED-UP. 55 
 
 " Excuse me, inarm, 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/' answer- 
 ed the butcher. 
 "The town 
 t e am 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 Solo- 
 mon 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." 
 
56 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. 
 
 OT 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." 
 
THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. 
 
 57 
 
 "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." 
 
58 
 
 THE PETEHKIN PAPERS. 
 
 Mr. Peterkin thought they might make some calcula- 
 tion 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 Brom- 
 wicks' 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. 
 
 59 
 
 "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. 
 
60 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 :f 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 dan- 
 gerous 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. 
 
THE PETER KINS DECIDE TO KEEP A COW. 
 
 61 
 
 Elizabeth Eliza had her scarlet sack dyed brown a fort- 
 night 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 understand 
 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." 
 
 r? It might be awkward if she didn't like it," said Solo- 
 mon 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 
 
62 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 PETERKIN& CHRISTMAS-TREE. 
 
 THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE. 
 
 AELY 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 fre- 
 quent 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. 
 
THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 At length Mr. Peterkin had it cut down and brought 
 
 secretly into the Larkins' barn. 
 A week or two before Christ- 
 mas a measurement was made 
 of it with Elizabeth Eliza's 
 yard-measure. To Mr. Peter- 
 kin's great dismay it was dis- 
 covered that it was too high 
 to stand in the back par- 
 lor. 
 
 This fact was brought out 
 
 at a secret council of Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, Eliza- 
 beth Eliza, and Agamemnon. 
 
 Agamemnon suggested that it might be set up slant- 
 ing; 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 pro- 
 posed 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, W 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 
 
THE PETERKIN& CHRISTMAS-TREE. 65 
 
 was not very high now, and, if the floor were raised, per- 
 haps she could not walk in it upright. 
 
 Mr. Peterkin explained that he didn't propose altering 
 the whole ceiling, but to lift 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 
 
66 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Brom- 
 wicks', 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 Christinas 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 
 occupvjd 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE. 67 
 
 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 w 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, Solo- 
 mon 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? 
 
68 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 
 \V. 1 \ 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 sug- 
 gested 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 for- 
 gotten to bring anything for it. 
 
 "I thought of candies and sugar-plums," she said; 
 w 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. 
 
THE PETERKIN& CHRISTMAS-TREE. 
 
 69 
 
 vrtWtic 
 
 "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. Peter- 
 kin 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 flick- 
 ering gleam from one of Solomon John's candles that he 
 had lighted by way of trial. 
 
70 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, w 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. Aga- 
 memnon 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 Eliza- 
 beth 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 
 Glaus himself. 
 
 Mr. Peterkin lighted the gas. The box was ad- 
 dressed to Elizabeth Eliza. It was from the lady from 
 
THE PETERKINS' CHRISTMAS-TREE. 7J 
 
 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 bird- 
 cages, and nests with birds sitting on them, baskets oi 
 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 Christ- 
 mas Eve!" 
 
 And so it was that the Peterkins had their Christ- 
 mas-tree the day before, and on Christmas night could 
 go and visit their neighbors. 
 
THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. 
 
 WAS 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 daugh- 
 ters, 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, 
 
 5 There are seven of us, to begin with," said Mr. 
 Peterkin. 
 
 :? We need not all drink tea," said Mrs. Peterkin. 
 w I never do," said Solomon John. The little boys 
 never did. 
 
 w And we could have coffee, too," suggested Eliza- 
 beth Eliza. 
 
 "That would take as many cups," objected Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 "We could use the every-day set for the coffee," 
 
MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. 
 
 73 
 
 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 sand- 
 wiches." 
 
 "I will buy a chest of tea," exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, 
 rf l have been thinking of a chest for some time." 
 
THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. Peter- 
 kin determined 011 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 ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 And it turned out a fair day, and more came than 
 were expected. Ann Maria Bromwick had a friend stay- 
 ing with her, and brought her over, for the Bromwicks 
 were opposite neighbors. And the Trem- 
 letts 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 
 
MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. 75 
 
 they all sat at the same side of the room on the long 
 sofa. 
 
 All the Jefferses came, though they had sent un- 
 certain answers. Old Mr. Jeffers had to tie helped in, 
 with his cane, by Mr. Peterkin. 
 
 The Gibbons boys came, and would stand just out- 
 side 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 Phila- 
 delphia 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: 
 
76 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "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 Brom wicks. 
 
 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. 
 
1 
 
 3 
 
MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. 77 
 
 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 Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 * 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 
 
78 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 emer- 
 gency 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 pro- 
 posed 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. 
 
MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. 79 
 
 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! Eliza- 
 beth 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 can- 
 not 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 whis- 
 pered 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. 
 
80 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "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 emer- 
 gencies ! " 
 
 "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 hand- 
 ing things around. 
 
 The daughters of the lady from Philadelphia were sit- 
 ting 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. 
 
MRS. PETERKIN'S TEA-PARTY. 81 
 
 "It's a great success, Elizabeth Eliza/' he whispered. 
 "The coffee is admirable, and plenty of cups. We asked 
 nono 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? 
 
82 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. 
 
 Dramatis Personce. Amanda (friend of Elizabeth Eliza), Amanda's mother, girls 
 of the graduating class, Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza. 
 
 AMANDA [coming in with a few graduates]. 
 
 * 
 OTHER, the exhibition is over, and I 
 
 have brought the whole class home 
 to the collation. 
 
 MOTHER. The whole class ! 
 But I only expected a few. 
 
 AMANDA. The rest are com- 
 ing. 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 Eliza- 
 beth 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! 
 
TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. 83 
 
 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. Oh, no, indeed! 
 
 ELIZABETH ELIZA. We came in a horse and carry- 
 all. 
 
 JULIA. I always wondered how anybody could come 
 in a horse ! 
 
 AMANDA. You are too foolish, Julie. 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? 
 
84 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. Oh, yes; we met one man after an- 
 other, 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.' 1 
 
TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. 85 
 
 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. Oh, dear, no ! We kept on and on, 
 till we met a man w r ith 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? 
 
86 THE PETE REIN PAPERS. 
 
 ELIZABETH ELIZA. He never offered us his book. 
 MRS. PETERKLN\ 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 
 AMAJSDA. He had yanked you round! 
 MRS. PETERKIX. 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 suc- 
 ceeded. I think there was partiality about the promotions. 
 
 ELIZABETH ELIZA. I nev- 
 er was good about remember- 
 ing 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. 
 
TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. 87 
 
 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. 
 
 MKS. PETERKLN. 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. Oh, dear, no! 
 
 JULIA. Perhaps it's Cleopatra. 
 
 ELIZABETH ELIZA. It does begin with a w C," only 
 he was a boy. 
 
 AMANDA. That's a pity, for it might be w 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 w stood upon the burning 
 deck"? 
 
 ELIZABETH ELIZA. That's just it;. I knew he stood 
 somewhere. 
 
 AMANDA. Casabianca ! Now begin go ahead. 
 
88 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. Oh, 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. 
 
TOO LATE FOR THE EXHIBITION. 89 
 
 MRS. PETERKIN. Elizabeth Eliza is very particular 
 about the rhymes. 
 
 ELIZABETH ELIZA. It must be "without his father's 
 head" or, perhaps, w 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 J\ 
 
90 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH OF 
 
 JULY. 
 
 HE 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 Fdurth of July, as she was not well, 
 and her doctor had prescribed quiet. 
 
THE PETER KINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 91 
 
 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 him- 
 self 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. 
 
92 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 
 It would have been impossible to hear any explana- 
 tion; 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 clat- 
 tering 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. ]STow the little boys knew of a place in 
 the swamp where they had been in the habit of digging 
 for w 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' 
 
THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 93 
 
 absence from the house on their visit to the swamp, she 
 had been trying to find out whether she had a sick-head- 
 ache, 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 gun- 
 powder into the house. She was even afraid of torpedoes; 
 they looked so much like sugar-plums she was sure some 
 of 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: 
 w 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, 
 
94 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 celebra- 
 tion. 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 apothe- 
 cary'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 
 
THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 
 
 95 
 
 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 morn- 
 ing, 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 Declara- 
 tion 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 
 
96 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 w 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 salt- 
 petre, 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 cc;npany stayed on, and when the Antiques and 
 Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts and 
 lemonade. 
 
THE PETERK1NS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 
 
 97 
 
 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 dis- 
 appeared. 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 
 
98 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 be- 
 ing 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. Peter- 
 kin? 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 in- 
 
THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 
 
 99 
 
 sisted 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 re- 
 sult 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. Torpe- 
 does and crackers were fired at 
 
 every pause. Some sweet-marjoram pots, tin cans filled 
 
 with crackers which were lighted, went off with great 
 
 explosions. 
 
100 THE PETEEKIN PAPERS. 
 
 At the most exciting moment, near the close of the 
 reading, Agamemnon, with an expression of terror, pulled 
 Solomon John aside. 
 
 w I have suddenly remembered where I read about the 
 f 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 ham- 
 mer. 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 Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 ' 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 
 
THE PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 101 
 
 take fire, flinging aside the packet in his hurry. Aga- 
 memnon, 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 " fulmi- 
 nated " 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 
 
102 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 under- 
 stand 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 PETERKINS CELEBRATE THE FOURTH. 1Q3 
 
 , 
 
 the boys had been allowed gunpowder. The distracted 
 lady was thankful there was likely to be but one Cen- 
 tennial 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. 
 
10* 
 
 THE PETEEKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS' PICNIC. 
 
 HERE was some doubt about the weather. 
 Solomon John looked at the "Proba- 
 bilities " ; there were to be w 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. Aga- 
 memnon had already decided to take a thermometer; some- 
 
THE PETERKIN& PICNIC. 
 
 105 
 
 body was always complaining of being too hot or too cold 
 at a picnic, and it would be a great conven- 
 ience to see if she really were so. He thought 
 now he might take a barometer, as w Proba- 
 bilities " 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. 
 
106 
 
 THE PETEEKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 ifc 
 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. Peter- 
 kin 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 
 
 J 
 
THE PETEEKINS' PICNIC. 107 
 
 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 Aga- 
 memnon, as soon as he appeared. 
 She had been holding the barom- 
 eter and the thermometer, and they 
 waggled so that it troubled her. 
 It was hard keeping the thermom- 
 eter 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 Philadel- 
 phia, 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 Phila- 
 delphia! 
 
 It seemed the horse had twitched his head in a 
 threatening manner as they passed the house, and Mr 
 
108 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. Peter- 
 kin 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 " ]STo ! " 
 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 her 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 2sTook, 
 it sounded inviting. There were 
 no strawberries, and there was no nook, it was said, 
 out there was a good place to tie the horses. 
 
THE PETER KINS' PICNIC. 109 
 
 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 some- 
 thing! 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 all 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 dif- 
 ferent 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 
 
110 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 they were started for Strawberry Nook, and had better 
 keep on. 
 
 So they kept on. It proved to t>e 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 on 
 the hill; it was too damp below. So the Gibbons boys, 
 
 and the little boys, and Aga- 
 memnon, and Solomon John, 
 
 8Mi^tt3&i I and a11 the P art y> had to cari 7 
 
 everything up to the rocks. 
 
 ^kTf^m^TfgS^I *& II . The large basket of w 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. Peter- 
 kin, 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, 
 
THE PETERKINS' PICNIC. HI 
 
 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, w Why is " It began, w 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 
 
, 112 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, w 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 PETERKIN& PICNIC. 113 
 
 the little boys'; a box of fish-hooks for Solomon John; 
 an ink-bottle, carefully done up in a great deal of news- 
 paper, which was fortunate, as the ink was oozing out; 
 some old magazines, and a black- 
 ing-bottle; and at the bottom a 
 sun-dial. It was all very enter- 
 taining, 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. 
 
114 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS' CHARADES. 
 
 VER since the picnic the Peterkins had 
 been wanting to have " something " at 
 their house in the way of entertain- 
 ment. 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS' CHARADES. 
 
 115 
 
 Still, how could they ask advice before they them- 
 selves 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 be- 
 gan 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 Brom- 
 wick 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. Eliza- 
 beth Eliza said you must not have it too odd, or people 
 
116 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 noth- 
 ing 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 de- 
 cided 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 PETERKINS' CHARADES. H7 
 
 the midst of it Ann Maria went over for her old bon- 
 nets and dresses and umbrellas, and they spent the even- 
 ing 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. Peterldn 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. Eliza- 
 beth 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 them- 
 selves 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 t yet what we are going to 
 act!" exclaimed Ann Maria. 
 
 But everybody's attention had to be given to the 
 
118 "THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 scene that was going up in the background, borrowed 
 from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was magnificent, and rep- 
 resented a forest. 
 
 'Where are we going to put seventy people?" ex- 
 claimed 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. 
 
 :f 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. 
 
 r? 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." 
 
THE PETE REINS' CHARADES. H9 
 
 "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 their 
 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 
 
120 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Eliza- 
 oeth 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS' CHARADES. 
 
 121 
 
 " 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 f 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; c * two inns, if we can." 
 
122 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 : '"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-lox? I don't wonder they get it wrong." 
 
 rc 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. 
 w 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 
 
THE PETERKIN& CHARADES. 123 
 
 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 ! " w 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." 
 
124 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 
 
 had long felt it an impro- 
 priety 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 un- 
 dertaking 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 ques- 
 tioned 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 125 
 
 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 
 
126 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 con- 
 fusion 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 
 house the first thing. Then the parlor 
 
 in the new 
 
THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 127 
 
 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 mean- 
 while 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 noth- 
 ing." And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme 
 for each member of the family. 
 
 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 
 
128 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 
 
THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 129 
 
 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. Eliza- 
 beth Eliza sunk in despair upon the end of a sofa. 
 
 w It would have been better to buy the red and blue 
 carpet," said Solomon John. 
 
 "Is not the carpet bought?" exclaimed Mrs. Peter- 
 kin. 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. w I did not like to go 
 
130 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 and ask her. But I felt that I must in such an emer- 
 gency. I explained to her the whole matter, and she 
 thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan's." 
 
 w 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. Peter- 
 kin's w 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 some- 
 thing 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 
 
THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 
 
 for their india-rubber boots, as there was a threatening of 
 rain. Perhaps they had left some door unfastened per- 
 haps 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, 
 
132 THE PETEJIKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 ap- 
 peared 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. Mean- 
 while 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 sug- 
 
THE PETgRKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 133 
 
 gested 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 off 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 car- 
 pets 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 be- 
 come 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 hi 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. 
 
 w 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, 
 
134 THE PETERKIN PAPEM$. 
 
 "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 wait- 
 ing 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 ana 
 spoons had not come, and although the tables were there 
 they were covered with chairs and boxes. 
 
 At this moment came a cov- 
 ered 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 neigh- 
 bor. 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! " 
 
THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE. 135 
 
 Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen uten- 
 sils 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, in- 
 deed, that they were very much moved. 
 
136 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS DECIDE TO LEARN THE 
 LANGUAGES. 
 
 EETAINLY now was the time 
 to study the languages. The 
 Peterkins had moved into a 
 new house, far more conven- 
 ient 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- 
 
THE PETERKINS STUDY THE LANGUAGES. 137 
 
 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, every- 
 thing 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 in- 
 convenient, 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. w 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 Ger- 
 mans; Solomon John, Italian with the Italians; Mrs. Peter- 
 
138 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 kin, 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 Cen- 
 tennial Exhibition, at one of the side-stands. But she 
 
THE PETERKINS STUDY THE LANGUAGES. 139 
 
 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 under- 
 stand 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 
 
140 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 ask- 
 ing 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. Solo- 
 mon 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS STUDY THE LANGUAGES. 
 
 Elizabeth Eliza wanted to surprise the lady from Phila- 
 delphia 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. Peter- 
 kin 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 Agamem- 
 non 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. 
 
142 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 But there was an unexpected difficulty in getting the 
 Russian gentleman into the same car- 
 riage 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 
 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 gen- 
 
THE PETERKINS STUDY THE LANGUAGES. 143 
 
 tlemen could not be put together, and more crowd col- 
 lected ! 
 
 Agamemnon, however, had happily studied up the 
 German word "Herr," and he ap- 
 plied 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 under- 
 stand 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 Span- 
 iard 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. 
 
144 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 Solomon John found the Italian dictionary, and seated 
 himself by his Italian; Agamemnon, with the German dic- 
 tionary, 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 Span- 
 ish. She got over all fears of the 
 Inquisition, he looked so sad, and 
 she tried to talk a little, using Eng- 
 lish words, but very slowly, and alter- 
 ing 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 per- 
 fectly her sentences. She repeated one of her vocabula- 
 ries, and went on with, " J'ai le lime" " As-tu le pain?" 
 w 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! " 
 
THE PETERKINS STUDY THE LANGUAGES. 
 
 145 
 
 " 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 under- 
 stand that they invited them to 
 teach, not lunch. Elizabeth Eliza 
 begged Agamemnon to look out 
 w 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 for- 
 eigners 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 Pa- 
 risian? 
 
 c We must give them something to eat," said Mr. 
 Peterkin, in a low tone. f? It would calm them." 
 
 w 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. 
 
146 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 Mrs. Peterkin hastened out with hospitable intents. 
 Amanda could make good coffee. Mr. Peterkin had sug- 
 gested 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 
 abtmt w les mceurs 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 Philadel- 
 phia, 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 foreign- 
 ers 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 
 
THE PETERKINS STUDY THE LANGUAGES. 147 
 
 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 teach- 
 ers knew they were expected to teach. 
 
148 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. 
 
 GAMEMJSTON 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 edu- 
 cation. 
 
 Solomon John was almost determined to become a 
 doctor. From earliest childhood he had practised 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 
 
MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERK1N&. 149 
 
 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 mak- 
 ing 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 K 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 satis- 
 factory 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 in- 
 ventor. If he could only invent something important, and 
 get out a patent, he would make himself known all over 
 
150 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 in- 
 vented, and then it looked very simple. With Agamem- 
 non'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 ii? 
 
MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. 
 
 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 advertise- 
 ments, to decide about the lawyer whom they should con- 
 sult, 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; w but per- 
 haps 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. 
 K Fm 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 w if everybody had 
 
152 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 the same key there would be no particular use in a 
 lock." 
 
 " Did you explain to her," said Mrs. Peter- 
 kin, "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 sug- 
 gested. Elizabeth Eliza then pro- 
 posed 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 im- 
 provements. This had been a disappointment to Mrs. 
 
MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. 153 
 
 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. Peter- 
 kin 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 
 
154 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 the card of directions at the side was destroyed. Aga- 
 memnon 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 Aga- 
 memnon 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. 
 
 w 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 hope- 
 lessly. 
 
 Still she bravely se- 
 lected a knob, and Eliza- 
 beth Eliza hastened with 
 her to look out for the 
 messenger. How soon 
 should they see the telegraph boy? 
 
MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. 155 
 
 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 ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 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. 
 
 T Write a telegram to your father," she said to Eliza- 
 beth 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." 
 
156 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "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 
 
 X \ 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 fear- 
 ful 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 neigh- 
 borhood who had not before assembled 
 around the house. At this moment Elizabeth Eliza met 
 the chief engineer. 
 
 w You need not send for more help," he said; "we 
 
MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKINS'. 157 
 
 have all the engines in town here, and have stirred up 
 all the towns in the neighborhood; there's no use in spring- 
 ing 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 ex- 
 plain. 
 
 ? 'If it is necessary," said the chief engineer, "you 
 might send it down in one of the hackney carriages. 1 
 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 begin- 
 ning; 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. 
 
158 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. 
 
MODERN IMPROVEMENTS AT THE PETERKIN&. 159 
 
 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. 
 
 f We saw all the patent- agents," answered Mr. Peter- 
 kin, 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 Solo- 
 mon 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. 
 
160 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. 
 
 HERE had apparently been some mis- 
 take in Agamemnon's education. 
 He had been to a number of col- 
 leges, 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 in- 
 quiring 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. 
 
AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. 161 
 
 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 them- 
 selves on the Spartan war. This turned Agamemnon's 
 attention to the Fenians, and to study the subject he read 
 up on w 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 exam- 
 inations 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 Aga- 
 memnon 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 some- 
 thing." 
 
 Agamemnon had left another college on account of 
 
162 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 in- 
 spired 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. Agamem- 
 non 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. 
 
AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. 163 
 
 He left another college in consequence of a mis- 
 understanding about the hour for morning prayers. He 
 went every day regularly at ten o'clock, but found, after- 
 ward, 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 
 
164 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 neces- 
 sary, 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 Encyclopedia 
 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 homoeopathic, 
 
AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. 165 
 
 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 v serve only in the tooth-brush 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 regu- 
 larly. 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 ad- 
 vantage 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. 
 
166 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. Peter- 
 kin was dissatisfied by the slow- 
 ness 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 Encyclo- 
 paedia. The rest of the family might help in the educa- 
 tion 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, Aga- 
 memnon had embraced the study of music, and from one 
 meal they might gain instruction enough for a day. 
 
AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. 167 
 
 "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 exam- 
 ination 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, 
 
168 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 "before many weeks we shall be drinking our milk from 
 jugs made by our children." 
 
 Elizabeth Eliza hoped for a thor- 
 ough 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 sup- 
 posed. 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!" 
 
AGAMEMNON'S CAEEER. 
 
 169 
 
 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 hurry- 
 ing 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. 
 
170 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 was 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 
 
AGAMEMNON'S CAREER. 171 
 
 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. 
 
172 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 
 
 ES. PETEKKIN'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 post- 
 poned. The little boys continued 
 at school, as before, and the con- 
 versation 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 was 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 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 173 
 
 instance, who probably knew the names of all the stations 
 on a road, but were seldom able to tell them. 
 
 " Yes," said Agamemnon, w 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 so 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, order- 
 ing 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. Peter- 
 kin had mistaken the alphabetical suggestion, and had 
 grasped the idea that the whole alphabet must be rep- 
 resented in one breakfast. 
 
174 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, Eolls, Salt, Tea Urn, Yeal-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 sub- 
 jects 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. Mr. Peterkin proposed they should 
 begin by eating the apple-sauce, then discussing it, first 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 175 
 
 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 
 
176 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 might study the processes of maple syrup as involved in 
 
 the griddle-cakes. 
 
 Agamemnon pointed out the 
 connection between the two sub- 
 jects: 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 break- 
 fast 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 "Bide and Tie"? 
 The little boys were fond of walking; so was Mr 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 177 
 
 Peterkin; and Agamemnon and Solomon John did not 
 object to their turn. Mrs. Peterkin could sit in the car- 
 riage, 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 Eliz- 
 abeth 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 Aga- 
 memnon went to order the horse and the expressman, 
 and Solomon John and the little boys prepared them- 
 selves 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 
 
178 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, lean- 
 ing 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 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 179 
 
 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, know- 
 ing nothing of the expressman. Yes, she heard the wheels! 
 She heard the front door shut! 
 
180 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 
 
 181 
 
 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 w 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. Per- 
 haps they would fancy she was coming by 
 express. She gave another . tremendous 
 effort to move the trunk toward the door. 
 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, 
 every thin g that Mrs. 
 
 Peterkin could think of for the family comfort. Still 
 Elizabeth Eliza did not come. "I think she must have 
 
 In vain. 
 
182 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 stuck 
 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 land of 
 a ' QuercusJ ' said Agamemnon, thoughtfully. 
 
 Mrs. Peterkin thought Mr. Peterkin would scarcely 
 use such an expression; but she could see nothing of Eliza- 
 beth 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- 
 place 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 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 183 
 
 had been that Mrs. Peterkin should always sit in the car- 
 riage, while the others should take turns for walking; and 
 Agamemnon tied the horse to a fence, and left her com- 
 fortably 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 nap 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: 
 
 w 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 her 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 
 
184 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 carry- 
 all." she said, w and that will explain all." 
 
 But it took them an hour or two to reach the carry- 
 all, 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 
 w 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 Ap:a- 
 memnon 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 were 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 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 185 
 
 to meet them, and, at the same moment with Mrs. Peter- 
 kin, exclaimed: :c 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 Eliza- 
 beth 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. 
 
 :r 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. 
 
186 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 an- 
 other 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 express- 
 man 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 return- 
 ing 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 walk- 
 
THE EDUCATIONAL BREAKFAST. 187 
 
 ing 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 re- 
 monstrated, but the driver insisted he must go round by 
 Millikin's to leave a bedstead. They went round by Milli- 
 kin'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 scarcely 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!" 
 
188 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 THE PETERKINS AT THE " CARNIVAL OF 
 AUTHORS" IN BOSTON. 
 
 HE Peterking were in quite a muddle 
 (for them) about the carnival of 
 authors, to be given in Boston. As 
 soon as it was announced, their inter- 
 ests 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 convers- 
 ing 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 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 189 
 
 authors. She had given up her French lessons, after tak- 
 ing 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 under- 
 stand 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 
 w garqon" 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 w Pickwick 
 Papers," and Solomon John had actually seen Mr. Long- 
 fellow getting into a horse-car. 
 
 Elizabeth Eliza suggested that they might ask the 
 Turk to give lectures upon the w Arabian Nights." Every- 
 body else was planning something of the sort, to w 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 
 
190 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 w 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? 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS: 1 
 
 191 
 
 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 Solo- 
 mon John was to take ijie character of Christopher Colum- 
 bus; 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 
 
192 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 water-proof 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 Eus- 
 sian 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. t 
 
 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 
 
AT THE "CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 193 
 
 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 Chris- 
 topher 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 prac- 
 tising 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 cloak- 
 room, to leave their wraps, they found themselves en- 
 tangled 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 be- 
 hind the scenes. 
 
194 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Mr 
 Peterkin understand the situation. 
 
 ' We are going to be introduced to Mr. Dickens," 
 he said. 
 
 "I thought he was dead!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, 
 trembling. 
 
 w 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 lip^, "Great Expec- 
 tations ; " and the Peterkin family swept across the stage 
 with the rest: Mr. Peterkin costumed as Peter the Great, 
 Mrs. Peterkin as Cleopatra, Agamemnon as ]SToah, Solo- 
 mon 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! 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 195 
 
 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 re- 
 ception, 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 
 
196 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 JSTew 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 re- 
 pressed from going on the stage whenever the bugle 
 sounded for the different groups represented there. 
 
 Elizabeth Eliza came near appearing in the w Dream 
 of Fair Women," at its most culminating point. 
 
 Mr. Peterkin found himself with the w 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. 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 197 
 
 Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whit- 
 tier Booth. 
 
 w I cannot understand," he said, w why none of our 
 friends are dressed in costume, and why we are." 
 
 "I rather like it," said Elizabeth Eliza, w 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, dis- 
 tractedly. 
 
 " They cannot find their booth," said another. 
 
 w 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. 
 
 W I hardly know how to sit down," said Elizabeth 
 
198 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, Eliza- 
 beth Eliza not knowing who she is, and going round and 
 round in this way." 
 
 "I am afraid we shall never reach home," said Aga- 
 memnon, 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. Peter- 
 kin; "could not the little boys look round for the checks 
 on the floors?" 
 
 She began to enumerate the many valuable things 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 199 
 
 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 with- 
 out them? No, it would be better to wait till every- 
 body 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 pre- 
 paring 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 Peter- 
 kins sat in a row. 
 
200 THE PETE REIN PAPERS. 
 
 w 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. Peter- 
 kin 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 dis- 
 turbed 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 sus- 
 picions 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, 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 201 
 
 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 Eliza- 
 beth 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 
 
202 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 occa- 
 sionally to look for the young man. But somehow Solo- 
 mon John missed him; the lights were out in the lock- 
 smith'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 
 
AT THE CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 
 
 203 
 
 came and went looked with wonder at Mrs. Peterkin, nod- 
 ding 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 mid- 
 night 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 day- 
 light they might make an en- 
 trance. 
 
 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 
 
204 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, fear- 
 
AT THE " CARNIVAL OF AUTHORS." 205 
 
 ing 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. w I shall never go to an- 
 other Carnival!" she exclaimed. 
 
 B 
 
206 
 
 THE PETERKIN PAPERS, 
 
 THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 
 
 ES, at last they had reached the sea- 
 side, after much talking and delibera- 
 tion, 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, wonder- 
 ful to tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. 
 
 Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Ma- 
 chine and Apparatus, and the volumes of the Encyclo- 
 paedia that might tell him how to manage it, and Solo- 
 mon John had his photograph camera. The little boys 
 
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 
 
 207 
 
 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 admira- 
 b 1 e order i n 
 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 
 
208 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 dis- 
 crepancies 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, start- 
 ing off in a wagon large enough to accommodate them, 
 Agamemnon driving the one horse. 
 
 Solomon John had depended upon taking the photo- 
 graphs of the family in a row on the beach; but he 
 decided not to take his camera out. the first after- 
 noon. 
 
 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." 
 
 should have to spend the whole day about it," 
 
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 209 
 
 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 cer- 
 tainly 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 disap- 
 pointed to have no chance to display them. But of 
 course, when the Sylvesters f 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 
 
210 THE PETEttKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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. fc 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, stand- 
 ing against the porch. 
 
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 211 
 
 " 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 ex- 
 pected 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 
 
212 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 "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. 7 * 
 
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 213 
 
 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 
 
214 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 un- 
 comfortable 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 genu- 
 ine 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 
 
THE PETER KINS AT THE FARM. 215 
 
 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 approach- 
 ing 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," 
 
216 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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, depre- 
 catingly. 
 
 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. 
 
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 217 
 
 "A very simple mistake," said Mr. Sylvester, con- 
 tinuing 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 Aga- 
 memnon. 
 
 Mr. Sylvester helped them into the wagon. f Your 
 rooms are awaiting you," he said. c 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. 
 
218 THE PETERKIN PAPERS. 
 
 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 Eliza- 
 beth Eliza bore her off. There was not much packing to 
 
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. 219- 
 
 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. 
 

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