Mrs. Peterkin

“ Even Ann Maria Bromwick clutched a pillar of the piazza, with closed eyes.
At length Mr. Peterkin said, calmly, “Is anybody killed?”
There was no reply. Nobody could tell whether it was because everybody was killed, or because they were too wounded to answer. It was a great while before Mrs. Peterkin ventured to move.
But the little boys soon shouted with joy, and cheered the success of Solomon John’s fireworks, and hoped he had some more. One of them had his face blackened by an unexpected cracker, and Elizabeth Eliza’s muslin dress was burned here and there. But no one was hurt ”

“ They wanted to stay longer on the beach, when they finally reached it; but Mrs. Peterkin and Elizabeth Eliza insisted upon turning directly back, as it was not fair to be late to dinner the very first night.
On the whole the party came back cheerful, yet hungry. They found the same old men, in the same costume, standing against the porch. [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. ”

“ But Solomon John wished to carry out the whole scene at the end.
As they stood together, all ready to receive, in the parlor at the appointed hour, Mr. Peterkin suddenly exclaimed,—
"This will never do! We are not the Peterkins,—we are distinguished guests! We cannot receive."
"We shall have to give up the party," said Mrs. Peterkin.
"Or our costumes," groaned Agamemnon from his ass's head.
"We must go out, and come in as guests," said Elizabeth Eliza, leading the way to a back door, for guests were already thronging in, and up the front stairs. ”

“ 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 [183] had been that Mrs. Peterkin should always sit in the carriage, while the others should take turns for walking ”

“ Mrs. Peterkin wanted to ask everybody to dinner. She should have some cold beef. She had let Amanda go, because it was the Fourth, and everybody ought to be free that one day; so she could not have much of a dinner. But when she went to cut her beef she found Solomon had taken it to soak, on account of the saltpetre, for the fireworks!
Well, they had a pig; so she took a ham, and the boys had bought tamarinds and buns and a cocoa-nut. So the company stayed on, and when the Antiques and Horribles passed again they were treated to pea-nuts and lemonade. ”

“ But she met with a difficulty,—there were no pokers and tongs, as they did not use them. They had no open fires; Mrs. Peterkin had been afraid of them. So Elizabeth Eliza took all the pots and kettles up to the upper windows, ready to be thrown out.
But where was Mrs. Peterkin? Solomon John found she had fled to the attic in terror. He persuaded her to come down, assuring her it was the most unsafe place; but she insisted upon stopping to collect some bags of old pieces, that nobody would think of saving from the general wreck, she said, unless she did. Alas! ”

“ But she called Agamemnon back, as he started off for his solitary walk, with a perplexing question:—
"Suppose the rest all should arrive, how could they now be accommodated in the carryall? It would be too much for the horse! Why had Elizabeth Eliza gone with the rest without counting up? Of course, they must have expected that she—Mrs. Peterkin—would walk on to the next stopping-place!"
She decided there was no way but for her to walk on. When the rest passed her they might make a change. So she put up her knitting cheerfully. ”

“ I see a number standing before the door. We'd better begin to move the heavier furniture, and some of you women might fill the carriages with smaller things."
Mrs. Peterkin was ready to fall into hysterics. She controlled herself with a supreme power, and hastened to touch another knob.
Elizabeth Eliza corrected her telegram, and decided to take the advice of the chief engineer and went to the door to give her message to one of the hackmen, when she saw a telegraph boy appear. Her mother had touched the right knob. ”

“ The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing [205] he might not consent to open the door, pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the family could go in. Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. "I shall never go to another Carnival!" she exclaimed.
[206]
THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM.
es, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly postponed. ”

“ 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? ”

“ ELIZABETH ELIZA.—He never offered us his book.
MRS. PETERKIN.—He told us the same story,—we were going to Providence; if we wanted to go to Boston, we must turn directly round.
ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I told him I couldn’t; but he took the horse’s head, and the first thing I knew—AMANDA.—He had yanked you round!
MRS. PETERKIN.—I screamed; I couldn’t help it!
ELIZABETH ELIZA.—I was glad when it was over!
MOTHER.—Well, well; it shows the disadvantage of starting wrong.
MRS. PETERKIN.—Yes, we came straight enough when the horse was headed right; but we lost time. ”

“ The Peterkins had moved into a new house, far more convenient than their old one, where they would have a place for everything and everything in its place. Of course they would then have more time.
Elizabeth Eliza recalled the troubles of the old house; how for a long time she was obliged to sit outside of the window upon the piazza, when she wanted to play on her piano.
Mrs. Peterkin reminded them of the difficulty about the table-cloths. The upper table-cloth was kept in a trunk that had to stand in front of the door to the closet under the stairs. ”

“ Peterkin thought he could telegraph him from Marseilles, if he only knew where to telegraph to. But at Marseilles there was great confusion at the Hôtel de Noailles; for the English party met other friends, who persuaded them to take route together by Brindisi. Elizabeth Eliza was anxious to continue with her new English friend, and Solomon John was delighted with the idea of passing through the whole length of Italy. But the sight of the long journey, as she saw it on the map in the guide-book, terrified Mrs. Peterkin. And Mr. Peterkin had taken their tickets for the Marseilles line. ”

“ The boat was already gliding swiftly past the black willows on the Blue Brook’s bank and around the bend where the thick trees made shadows and long tresses of gray moss waved overhead. Soon they’d reach the river. When a dark bird flew across the stream Maum Hannah shivered and whispered, “Do, Jedus, hab mussy,” but Breeze muttered, “Dat ain’ nuttin’ but a summer duck.”
The whole world lay still, wrapped by the night, quiet, save for the swish of the water against the sides of the boat as the noiseless dips of the steady-plying paddle thrust it on. ”

“ Peterkin hastened into the house to save herself, or see what she could save. Elizabeth Eliza followed her, first proceeding to collect all the pokers and tongs she could find, because they could be thrown out of the window without breaking. She had read of people who had flung looking-glasses out of the window by mistake, in the excitement of the house being on fire, and had carried the pokers and tongs carefully into the garden. There was nothing like being prepared. She had always determined to do the reverse. So with calmness she told Solomon John to take down the looking-glasses. ”

“ Peterkin demanded, while Tom deliberately picked up the costly Turkey hearth rug, and throwing it across the couch, said:
"Put her on that."
So Peterkin deposited her upon the rug, hitting her foot again, and sending her off in a dead faint.
"Oh, she's dead! she's dead! What shall we do?" Mrs. Peterkin cried, wringing her hands and walking about excitedly.
"Do?" Peterkin yelled. "Hold your yawp, and stop floppin' round like a hen with her head cut off! She ain't dead. She's fainted. ”

“ Mamma looked up as we came in, and I saw that her eyes went past me.
'Hasn't Clement come in?' she asked, and it made me wish I hadn't given in about it to Pete.
'No, mamma,' I said. 'It's one of his late days, you know. And Peterkin made me come up just as I was.'
I felt very ashamed of my hair and crushed collar and altogether. I didn't mind so much about my hands; boys' hands can't be like ladies'. But Mrs. Wylie was so awfully neat—she might have been a fairy herself, or a doll dressed to look like an old lady. ”

“ True enough! The Peterkins had been so busy inside the house they had not noticed the ceasing of the storm outside.
“And we were all up an hour earlier than usual,” said Mr. Peterkin, when the butcher left. He had not explained to the butcher why he had a pickaxe in his hand.
“If we had lain abed till the usual time,” said Solomon John, “we should have been all right.”
“For here is the milkman!” said Elizabeth Eliza, as a knock was now heard at the side door.
“It is a good thing to learn,” said Mr. Peterkin, “not to get up any earlier than is necessary.” ”

“ Peterkin at Malta on the way? But at this moment she discovered that she was not on a "P. & O." steamer,—it was a French steamer of the "Messagerie" line; they had stopped at Messina, and not at Malta. She could not go back to Southampton, so she was told by an English colonel on his way to India. He indeed was very courteous, and advised her to "go to an hotel" at Alexandria with some of the ladies, and send her telegrams from there. To whom, however, would she wish to send a telegram?
"Who is Mr. Peterkin's banker?" asked the Colonel. Alas! Mrs. Peterkin did not know. ”

“ The noise from the birth-night supper grew thicker and stronger as they got nearer the Quarters. Every beat of the drum throbbed unbroken by the laughter and singing and loud-ringing talk. Breeze’s feet stepped with the time it marked, and so did Uncle Bill’s and Big Sue’s. ”