It began one morning at breakfast. It was the fifteenth of August--the
birthday of Napoleon the Great, Oswald Bastable, and another very nice
writer. Oswald was to keep his birthday on the Saturday, so that his
father could be there. A birthday when there are only many happy returns
is a little like Sunday or Christmas Eve. Oswald had a birthday-card or
two--that was all; but he did not repine, because he knew they always
make it up to you for putting off keeping your birthday, and he looked
forward to Saturday.
Albert's uncle had a whole stack of letters as usual, and presently he
tossed one over to Dora, and said, "What do you say, little lady? Shall
we let them come?"
But Dora, butter-fingered as ever, missed the catch, and Dick and Noel
both had a try for it, so that the letter went into the place where the
bacon had been, and where now only a frozen-looking lake of bacon fat
was slowly hardening, and then somehow it got into the marmalade, and
then H. O. got it, and Dora said:
"I don't want the nasty thing now--all grease and stickiness." So H. O.
read it aloud:
"MAIDSTONE SOCIETY OF ANTIQUITIES AND FIELD CLUB,
"_Aug. 14, 1900._
"DEAR SIR,--At a meeting of the--"
H. O. stuck fast here, and the writing was really very bad, like a
spider that has been in the inkpot crawling in a hurry over the paper
without stopping to rub its feet properly on the mat. So Oswald took the
letter. He is above minding a little marmalade or bacon. He began to
read. It ran thus:
"It's not Antiquities, you little silly," he said; "it's _Antiquaries_."
"The other's a very good word," said Albert's uncle, "and I never call
names at breakfast myself--it upsets the digestion, my egregious
Oswald."
"That's a name though," said Alice, "and you got it out of 'Stalky,'
too. Go on, Oswald."
So Oswald went on where he had been interrupted:
"MAIDSTONE SOCIETY OF ANTIQUARIES AND FIELD CLUB,
"_Aug. 14, 1900._
"DEAR SIR,--At a meeting of the Committee of this Society it
was agreed that a field day should be held on Aug. 20, when
the Society proposes to visit the interesting church of
Ivybridge and also the Roman remains in the vicinity. Our
president, Mr. Longchamps, F.R.S., has obtained permission
to open a barrow in the Three Trees pasture. We venture to
ask whether you would allow the members of the Society to
walk through your grounds and to inspect--from without, of
course--your beautiful house, which is, as you are doubtless
aware, of great historic interest, having been for some
years the residence of the celebrated Sir Thomas Wyatt.--I
am, dear Sir, yours faithfully,
"EDWARD K. TURNBULL (_Hon. Sec._)."
"Just so," said Albert's uncle; "well, shall we permit the eye of the
Maidstone Antiquities to profane these sacred solitudes, and the foot of
the Field Club to kick up a dust on our gravel?"
"Our gravel is all grass," H. O. said. And the girls said, "Oh, do let
them come!" It was Alice who said:
"Why not ask them to tea? They'll be very tired coming all the way from
Maidstone."
"Would you really like it?" Albert's uncle asked. "I'm afraid they'll be
but dull dogs, the Antiquities, stuffy old gentlemen with amphorae in
their button-holes instead of orchids, and pedigrees poking out of all
their pockets."
We laughed--because we knew what an amphorae is. If you don't you might
look it up in the dicker. It's not a flower, though it sounds like one
out of the gardening book, the kind you never hear of any one growing.
Dora said she thought it would be splendid.
"And we could have out the best china," she said, "and decorate the
table with flowers. We could have tea in the garden. We've never had a
party since we've been here."
"I warn you that your guests may be boresome; however, have it your own
way," Albert's uncle said; and he went off to write the invitation to
tea to the Maidstone Antiquities. I know that is the wrong word--but
somehow we all used it whenever we spoke of them, which was often.
In a day or two Albert's uncle came in to tea with a lightly clouded
brow.
"You've let me in for a nice thing," he said. "I asked the Antiquities
to tea, and I asked casually how many we might expect. I thought we
might need at least the full dozen of the best teacups. Now the
secretary writes accepting my kind invitation--"
"Oh, good!" we cried. "And how many are coming?"
"Oh, only about sixty," was the groaning rejoinder. "Perhaps more,
should the weather be exceptionally favorable."
Though stunned at first, we presently decided that we were pleased. We
had never, never given such a big party.
The girls were allowed to help in the kitchen, where Mrs. Pettigrew made
cakes all day long without stopping. They did not let us boys be there,
though I cannot see any harm in putting your finger in a cake before it
is baked, and then licking your finger, if you are careful to put a
different finger in the cake next time. Cake before it is baked is
delicious--like a sort of cream.
Albert's uncle said he was the prey of despair. He drove in to Maidstone
one day. When we asked him where he was going, he said:
"To get my hair cut: if I keep it this length I shall certainly tear it
out by double handfuls in the extremity of my anguish every time I think
of those innumerable Antiquities."
But we found out afterwards that he really went to borrow china and
things to give the Antiquities their tea out of; though he did have his
hair cut too, because he is the soul of truth and honor.
Oswald had a very good sort of birthday, with bows and arrows as well as
other presents. I think these were meant to make up for the pistol that
was taken away after the adventure of the fox-hunting. These gave us
boys something to do between the birthday-keeping, which was on the
Saturday, and the Wednesday when the Antiquities were to come.
We did not allow the girls to play with the bows and arrows, because
they had the cakes that we were cut off from: there was little or no
unpleasantness over this.
On the Tuesday we went down to look at the Roman place where the
Antiquities were going to dig. We sat on the Roman wall and ate nuts.
And as we sat there, we saw coming through the beet-field two laborers
with picks and shovels, and a very young man with thin legs and a
bicycle. It turned out afterwards to be a free wheel, the first we had
ever seen.
They stopped at a mound inside the Roman wall, and the men took their
coats off and spat on their hands.
We went down at once, of course. The thin-legged bicyclist explained his
machine to us very fully and carefully when we asked him, and then we
saw the men were cutting turfs and turning them over and rolling them
up, and putting them in a heap. So we asked the gentleman with his thin
legs what they were doing. He said:
"They are beginning the preliminary excavation in readiness for
to-morrow."
"What's up to-morrow?" H. O. asked.
"To-morrow we propose to open this barrow and examine it."
"Then _you're_ the Antiquities," said H. O.
"I'm the secretary," said the gentleman, smiling, but narrowly.
"Oh, you're all coming to tea with us," Dora said, and added anxiously,
"how many of you do you think there'll be?"
"Oh, not more than eighty or ninety, I should think," replied the
gentleman.
This took our breath away and we went home. As we went, Oswald, who
notices many things that would pass unobserved by the light and
careless, saw Denny frowning hard.