III.
THE PETERKINS PRACTISE TRAVELLING.
Long ago Mrs. Peterkin had been afraid of the Mohammedans, and wouldhave dreaded to travel among them; but since the little boys had takenlessons of the Turk, and she had become familiar with his costume andmethod of sitting, she had felt less fear of them as a nation.
To be sure, the Turk had given but few lessons, as, soon after makinghis engagement, he had been obliged to go to New York to join atobacconist's firm. Mr. Peterkin had not regretted his payment forinstruction in advance; for the Turk had been very urbane in hismanners, and had always assented to whatever the little boys or any ofthe family had said to him.
Mrs. Peterkin had expressed a desire to see the famous Cleopatra'sNeedle which had been brought from Egypt. She had heard it was somethinggigantic for a needle, and it would be worth a journey to New York. Shewondered at their bringing it such a distance, and would have supposedthat some of Cleopatra's family would have objected to it if they wereliving now.
Agamemnon said that was the truth; there was no one left to object; theywere all mummies under ground, with such heavy pyramids over them thatthey would not easily rise to object.
Mr. Peterkin feared that all the pyramids would be brought away in time.Agamemnon said there were a great many remaining in Egypt. Still, hethought it would be well to visit Egypt soon, before they were allbrought away, and nothing but the sand left. Mrs. Peterkin said shewould be almost as willing to travel to Egypt as to New York, and itwould seem more worth while to go so far to see a great many than to goto New York only for one needle.
"That would certainly be a needless expense," suggested Solomon John.
Elizabeth Eliza was anxious to see the Sphinx. Perhaps it would answersome of the family questions that troubled them day after day.
Agamemnon felt it would be a great thing for the education of the littleboys. If they could have begun with the Egyptian hieroglyphics beforethey had learned their alphabet, they would have begun at the right end.Perhaps it was not too late now to take them to Egypt, and let thembegin upon its old learning. The little boys declared it was none toolate. They could not say the alphabet backward now, and could neverremember whether _u_ came before _v_; and the voyage would bea long one, and before they reached Egypt, very likely they would haveforgotten all.
It was about this voyage that Mrs. Peterkin had much doubt. What she wasafraid of was getting in and out of the ships and boats. She was afraidof tumbling into the water between, when she left the wharf. ElizabethEliza agreed with her mother in this, and began to calculate how manytimes they would have to change between Boston and Egypt.
There was the ferry-boat across to East Boston would make two changes;one more to get on board the steamer; then Liverpool--no, to land atQueenstown would make two more,--four, five changes; Liverpool, six.Solomon John brought the map, and they counted up. Dover, seven; Calais,eight; Marseilles, nine; Malta, if they landed, ten, eleven; andAlexandria, twelve changes.
Mrs. Peterkin shuddered at the possibilities, not merely for herself,but for the family. She could fall in but once, but by the time theyshould reach Egypt, how many would be left out of a family of eight?Agamemnon began to count up the contingencies. Eight times twelve wouldmake ninety-six chances (8 x 12 = 96). Mrs. Peterkin felt as if allmight be swept off before the end could be reached.
Solomon John said it was not usual to allow more than one chance in ahundred. People always said "one in a hundred," as though that were theusual thing expected. It was not at all likely that the whole familywould be swept off.
Mrs. Peterkin was sure they would not want to lose one; they couldhardly pick out which they could spare, she felt certain. Agamemnondeclared there was no necessity for such risks. They might go directlyby some vessel from Boston to Egypt.
Solomon John thought they might give up Egypt, and content themselveswith Rome. "All roads lead to Rome;" so it would not be difficult tofind their way.
But Mrs. Peterkin was afraid to go. She had heard you must do as theRomans did if you went to Rome; and there were some things she certainlyshould not like to do that they did. There was that brute who killedCaesar! And she should not object to the long voyage. It would give themtime to think it all over.
Mr. Peterkin thought they ought to have more practice in travelling, toaccustom themselves to emergencies. It would be fatal to start on solong a voyage and to find they were not prepared. Why not make theirproposed excursion to the cousins at Gooseberry Beach, which they hadbeen planning all summer? There they could practise getting in and outof a boat, and accustom themselves to the air of the sea. To be sure,the cousins were just moving up from the seashore, but they could takedown a basket of luncheon, in order to give no trouble, and they neednot go into the house.
Elizabeth Eliza had learned by heart, early in the summer, the list oftrains, as she was sure they would lose the slip their cousins had sentthem; and you never could find the paper that had the trains in when youwanted it. They must take the 7 A.M. train into Boston in time to goacross to the station for the Gooseberry train at 7.45, and they wouldhave to return from Gooseberry Beach by a 3.30 train. The cousins wouldorder the "barge" to meet them on their arrival, and to come for themat 3 P.M., in time for the return train, if they were informed the daybefore. Elizabeth Eliza wrote them a postal card, giving them theinformation that they would take the early train. The "barge" was thename of the omnibus that took passengers to and from the Gooseberrystation. Mrs. Peterkin felt that its very name was propitious to thisEgyptian undertaking.
The day proved a fine one. On reaching Boston, Mrs. Peterkin andElizabeth Eliza were put into a carriage with the luncheon-basket todrive directly to the station. Elizabeth Eliza was able to check thebasket at the baggage-station, and to buy their "go-and-return" ticketsbefore the arrival of the rest of the party, which appeared, however,some minutes before a quarter of eight. Mrs. Peterkin counted the littleboys. All were there. This promised well for Egypt. But their joy was ofshort duration. On presenting their tickets at the gate of entrance,they were stopped. The Gooseberry train had gone at 7.35! The Mattapantrain was now awaiting its passengers. Impossible! Elizabeth Elizahad repeated 7.45 every morning through the summer. It must be theGooseberry train. But the conductor would not yield. If they wished togo to Mattapan they could go; if to Gooseberry, they must wait till the5 P.M. train.
Mrs. Peterkin was in despair. Their return train was 3.30; how could 5P.M. help them?
Mr. Peterkin, with instant decision, proposed they should try somethingelse. Why should not they take their luncheon-basket across some ferry?This would give them practice. The family hastily agreed to this. Whatcould be better? They went to the baggage-office, but found their baskethad gone in the 7.35 train! They had arrived in time, and could havegone too. "If we had only been checked!" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. Thebaggage-master, showing a tender interest, suggested that there was atrain for Plymouth at eight, which would take them within twelve milesof Gooseberry Beach, and they might find "a team" there to take themacross. Solomon John and the little boys were delighted with thesuggestion.
"We could see Plymouth Rock," said Agamemnon.
But hasty action would be necessary. Mr. Peterkin quickly procuredtickets for Plymouth, and no official objected to their taking the 8A.M. train. They were all safely in the train. This had been a testexpedition; and each of the party had taken something, to see what wouldbe the proportion of things lost to those remembered. Mr. Peterkin hadtwo umbrellas, Agamemnon an atlas and spyglass, and the little boys weretaking down two cats in a basket. All were safe.
"I am glad we have decided upon Plymouth," said Mr. Peterkin. "Beforeseeing the pyramids of Egypt we certainly ought to know something ofPlymouth Rock. I should certainly be quite ashamed, when looking attheir great obelisks, to confess that I had never seen our own Rock."
The conductor was attracted by this interesting party. When Mr. Peterkintold him of their mistake of the morning, and that they were bound
forGooseberry Beach, he advised them to stop at Kingston, a station nearerthe beach. They would have but four miles to drive, and a reductioncould be effected on their tickets. The family demurred. Were they readynow to give up Plymouth? They would lose time in going there. SolomonJohn, too, suggested it would be better, chronologically, to visitPlymouth on their return from Egypt, after they had seen the earliestthings.
This decided them to stop at Kingston.
But they found here no omnibus nor carriage to take them to Gooseberry.The station-master was eager to assist them, and went far and near insearch of some sort of wagon. Hour after hour passed away, the littleboys had shared their last peanut, and gloom was gathering over thefamily, when Solomon John came into the station to say there was aphotographer's cart on the other side of the road. Would not this be agood chance to have their photographs taken for their friends beforeleaving for Egypt? The idea reanimated the whole party, and they madetheir way to the cart, and into it, as the door was open. There was,however, no photographer there.
Agamemnon tried to remember what he had read of photography. As all thematerials were there, he might take the family's picture. There wouldindeed be a difficulty in introducing his own. Solomon John suggestedthey might arrange the family group, leaving a place for him. Then, whenall was ready, he could put the curtain over the box, take his placehastily, then pull away the curtain by means of a string. And SolomonJohn began to look around for a string while the little boys felt intheir pockets.
Agamemnon did not exactly see how they could get the curtain back.Mr. Peterkin thought this of little importance. They would all be gladto sit some time after travelling so long. And the longer they sat thebetter for the picture, and perhaps somebody would come along in timeto put back the curtain. They began to arrange the group. Mr. and Mrs.Peterkin were placed in the middle, sitting down. Elizabeth Eliza stoodbehind them, and the little boys knelt in front with the basket of cats.Solomon John and Agamemnon were also to stand behind, Agamemnon leaningover his father's shoulder. Solomon John was still looking around for astring when the photographer himself appeared. He was much surprised tofind a group all ready for him. He had gone off that morning for a shortholiday, but was not unwilling to take the family, especially when heheard they were soon going to Egypt. He approved of the grouping made bythe family, but suggested that their eyes should not all be fixed uponthe same spot. Before the pictures were finished, the station-mastercame to announce that two carriages were found to take the party toGooseberry Beach.
"There is no hurry," said Mr. Peterkin, "Let the pictures be finished;they have made us wait, we can keep them waiting as long as we please."
The result, indeed, was very satisfactory. The photographer pronouncedit a remarkably fine group. Elizabeth Eliza's eyes were lifted to theheavens perhaps a little too high. It gave her a rapt expression notcustomary with her; but Mr. Peterkin thought she might look in that wayin the presence of the Sphinx. It was necessary to have a number ofcopies, to satisfy all the friends left behind when they should go toEgypt; and it certainly would not be worth while to come again so greata distance for more.
It was therefore a late hour when they left Kingston. It took some timeto arrange the party in two carriages. Mr. Peterkin ought to be in one,Mrs. Peterkin in the other; but it was difficult to divide the littleboys, as all wished to take charge of the cats. The drive, too, provedlonger than was expected,--six miles instead of four.
When they reached their cousin's door, the "barge" was already standingthere.
"It has brought our luncheon-basket!" exclaimed Solomon John.
"I am glad of it," said Agamemnon, "for I feel hungry enough for it."
He pulled out his watch. It was three o'clock!
This was indeed the "barge," but it had come for their return. TheGooseberry cousins, much bewildered that the family did not arrive atthe time expected, had forgotten to send to countermand it. And the"barge" driver, supposing the family had arrived by the other station,had taken occasion to bring up the lunch-basket, as it was addressed tothe Gooseberry cousins. The cousins flocked out to meet them. "What hadhappened? What had delayed them? They were glad to see them at last."
Mrs. Peterkin, when she understood the state of the case, insisted upongetting directly into the "barge" to return, although the driver saidthere would be a few moments to spare. Some of the cousins busiedthemselves in opening the luncheon-basket, and a part led the littleboys and Agamemnon and Solomon John down upon the beach in front of thehouse; there would be a few moments for a glance at the sea. Indeed, thelittle boys ventured in their India-rubber boots to wade in a littleway, as the tide was low. And Agamemnon and Solomon John walked to lookat a boat that was drawn up on the beach, and got into it and out of itfor practice, till they were all summoned back to the house.
It was indeed time to go. The Gooseberry cousins had got out theluncheon, and had tried to persuade the family to spend the night. Mrs.Peterkin declared this would be impossible. They never had done such athing. So they went off, eating their luncheon as they went, the littleboys each with a sandwich in one hand and a piece of cake in the other.
Mrs. Peterkin was sure they should miss the train or lose some of theparty. No, it was a great success; for all, and more than all, werefound in the train: slung over the arm of one of the little boys wasfound the basket containing the cats. They were to have left the cats,but in their haste had brought them away again.
This discovery was made in a search for the tickets which ElizabethEliza had bought, early in the morning, to go and return; they wereneeded now for return. She was sure she had given them to her father.Mrs. Peterkin supposed that Mr. Peterkin must have changed them for theKingston tickets. The little boys felt in their pockets, Agamemnon andSolomon John in theirs. In the excitement, Mrs. Peterkin insisted upongiving up her copy of their new photograph, and could not be satisfiedtill the conductor had punched it. At last the tickets were found in theouter lappet of Elizabeth Eliza's hand-bag. She had looked for them inthe inner part.
It was after this that Mr. Peterkin ventured to pronounce the wholeexpedition a success. To be sure, they had not passed the day at thebeach, and had scarcely seen their cousins; but their object had beento practise travelling, and surely they had been travelling all day.Elizabeth Eliza had seen the sea, or thought she had. She was notsure--she had been so busy explaining to the cousins and showing thephotographs. Agamemnon was sorry she had not walked with them to thebeach, and tried getting in and out of the boat. Elizabeth Elizaregretted this. Of course it was not the same as getting into a boat onthe sea, where it would be wobbling more, but the step must have beenhigher from the sand. Solomon John said there was some difficulty. Hehad jumped in, but was obliged to take hold of the side in getting out.
The little boys were much encouraged by their wade into the tide. Theyhad been a little frightened at first when the splash came, but thetide had been low. On the whole, Mr. Peterkin continued, things had gonewell. Even the bringing back of the cats might be considered a goodomen. Cats were worshipped in Egypt, and they ought not to have triedto part with them. He was glad they had brought the cats. They gave thelittle boys an interest in feeding them while they were waiting at theKingston station.
Their adventures were not quite over, as the station was crowded whenthey reached Boston. A military company had arrived from the South andwas received by a procession. A number of distinguished guests also wereexpected, and the Peterkins found it difficult to procure a carriage.They had determined to take a carriage, so that they might be sure toreach their own evening train in season.
At last Mr. Peterkin discovered one that was empty, standing at the endof a long line. There would be room for Mrs. Peterkin, Elizabeth Eliza,himself, and the little boys, and Agamemnon and Solomon John agreed towalk behind in order to keep the carriage in sight. But they were muchdisturbed when they found they were going at so slow a pace. Mr. Peterkincalled to the coachman in vain. He soon found that they had fallen intothe lin
e of the procession, and the coachman was driving slowly onbehind the other carriages. In vain Mr. Peterkin tried to attract thedriver's attention. He put his head out of one window after another, butonly to receive the cheers of the populace ranged along the sidewalk.He opened the window behind the coachman and pulled his coat. But thecheering was so loud that he could not make himself heard. He tried tomotion to the coachman to turn down one of the side streets, but inanswer the driver pointed out with his whip the crowds of people. Mr.Peterkin, indeed, saw it would be impossible to make their way throughthe throng that filled every side street which they crossed. Mrs.Peterkin looked out of the back window for Agamemnon and Solomon John.They were walking side by side, behind the carriage, taking off theirhats, and bowing to the people cheering on either side.
"They are at the head of a long row of men, walking two by two," saidMrs. Peterkin.
"They are part of the procession," said Elizabeth Eliza.
"We are part of the procession," Mr. Peterkin answered.
"I rather like it," said Mrs. Peterkin, with a calm smile, as she lookedout of the window and bowed in answer to a cheer.
"Where do you suppose we shall go?" asked Elizabeth Eliza.
"I have often wondered what became of a procession," said Mr. Peterkin."They are always going somewhere, but I never could tell where they wentto."
"We shall find out!" exclaimed the little boys, who were filled withdelight, looking now out of one window, now out of the other.
"Perhaps we shall go to the armory," said one.
This alarmed Mrs. Peterkin. Sounds of martial music were now heard, andthe noise of the crowd grew louder. "I think you ought to ask where weare going," she said to Mr. Peterkin.
"It is not for us to decide," he answered calmly. "They have taken usinto the procession. I suppose they will show us the principal streets,and will then leave us at our station."
This, indeed, seemed to be the plan. For two hours more the Peterkins,in their carriage, and Agamemnon and Solomon John, afoot, followed on.Mrs. Peterkin looked out upon rows and rows of cheering people. Thelittle boys waved their caps.
"It begins to be a little monotonous," said Mrs. Peterkin, at last.
"I am afraid we have missed all the trains," said Elizabeth Eliza,gloomily. But Mr. Peterkin's faith held to the last, and was rewarded.The carriage reached the square in which stood the railroad station. Mr.Peterkin again seized the lapels of the coachman's coat and pointed tothe station, and he was able to turn his horses in that direction. Asthey left the crowd, they received a parting cheer. It was withdifficulty that Agamemnon and Solomon John broke from the ranks.
"That was a magnificent reception!" exclaimed Mr. Peterkin, wiping hisbrow, after paying the coachman twice his fee. But Elizabeth Eliza said,--
"But we have lost all the trains, I am sure."
They had lost all but one. It was the last.
"And we have lost the cats!" the little boys suddenly exclaimed. ButMrs. Peterkin would not allow them to turn back in search of them.
The Last of the Peterkins Page 3