rain-storm; it was pouring hard. It was hard work getting down to the
door in the dark. The candle kept going out; and they found the door
still locked when they reached it.
"Why not spend the night?" said Jonas. "They'll have got over their
worries at home by this time."
"Nobody could come up here to see after us in this rain," said Sam.
"I suppose they think that as we have made our bed we may as well sleep
in it."
Sleep they did until a late hour in the morning. All the windows but the
one upon the veranda closed with shutters. They woke up to find snow and
rain together. They went all over the house to find some way of getting
out, but doors and windows were well closed.
"It's no use, boys," said Sam. "We've tried it often enough from outside
to get in, and now it is as hard to get out. I was always disgusted that
the windows were so high from the ground. Anyhow, father or some of the
folks will be after us sometime. What was it you told mother?" Sam
asked.
John Stebbins had to confess that he had not seen Mrs. Wilson, and
indeed had been vague with the information he had left with Jane. "I
told them we were with the Pentz boys," he said; "I thought it just as
well to keep dark."
"Mighty dark we all of us are!" said Sam, in a rage. He was so angry
that John Stebbins began to think he had made Jane understand where they
were, and he tried to calm Sam down. Jonas proposed that Dick should be
put through the cold-air box again. With a little squeezing from behind
he must be able to get through. Everybody but Dick thought it such a
nice plan that he was obliged to agree. But what was their horror when
they reached the place to find some boards nailed across the outside!
"A regular siege!" said Sam. "Well, if they can stand it I guess we
can." His mettle was up. "We'll stay till relief forces come. It is some
trick of the boys. Lucky there's no school. They can't hold out long."
"A state of siege! What fun!" cried the boys.
"I only wish we had brought two pies," said John Stebbins. "But there's
plenty of gingerbread."
Now they would ransack the house at their leisure. There was light
enough in the attics to explore the treasures hidden there. They found
old coal-hods for helmets, and warming-pans for fiery steeds, and they
had tournaments in the huge halls. They piled up carpets for their
comfort in their bedroom,--bits of old carpet,--and Jonas and Sam
discovered a pile of old worm-eaten books. The day seemed too short,
and the provender lasted well.
The night, however, was not so happy. The candles were growing short
and matches fewer. Sam and Jonas had to economize in reading, and told
stories instead, and the stories had a tendency to ghosts. Dick and Jack
murmured to John Stebbins it was not such fun after all; when, lo! their
own talk was interrupted by noises below! A sound of quarrelling voices
came from the rooms beneath. Voices of men! They went on tiptoe to the
head of the stairs to listen.
Tramps, indeed!
How had they got in? Was it they who had locked the door? Did they come
in that way?
"Suppose we go down," said Sam, in a whisper. But John Stebbins and the
little boys would not think of it. The men were swearing at each other;
there was a jingle of bottles and sound of drinking.
"It's my opinion we had better keep quiet," said Jonas. "It is a poor
set, and I don't know what they would do to us if they saw we had found
them out and would be likely to tell of them."
So they crept back noiselessly. In a state of siege, indeed! John
Stebbins, with help of the others, lifted the sofa across the door and
begged Sam to sleep on it. But that night there was not much sleep! The
storm continued, snow, hail, and rain, and wind howling against the
windows. Toward morning they did fall asleep. It was at a late hour they
waked up and went to peer out from the veranda window. There was a
policeman passing round the house!
* * * * *
Meanwhile there had been great anxiety at the Wilsons'.
"If it were not for the storm," said Aunt Harriet, "I should send up to
the Pentzes' to inquire about those boys."
"I suppose it's the storm that keeps them," said Jane.
"If it were not for the storm," Mrs. Pentz was saying to Mary, "I should
like you to go down to the Wilsons' and see what those boys are about."
As to Mrs. Stebbins, John was so seldom at home it did not occur to her
to wonder where he was.
But when Saturday morning came, and no boys, Aunt Harriet said, "There's
a little lull in the storm. I can't stand it any longer, Jane. I am
going to put on my waterproof and go up to the Pentzes'."
"I will go too," said Jane; and Gertrude and George joined the party.
Half-way up the long street they met the Pentz family coming down to
make the same inquiries,--Mr. and Mrs. Pentz, Mary, Sophy, Will, and the
rest.
"Where are the boys?" was the exclamation as they met half-way between
the two houses.
Mr. Johnson, one of the leading men of the town, crossed the street to
ask what was the commotion in the two families. "Our boys are missing,"
said Mr. Pentz. "Five boys!"
"We haven't seen them since Thursday morning," said Aunt Harriet.
"They were at home Thursday afternoon," said Mary Pentz.
"I must speak to the police," said Mr. Pentz.
"He is up at the Wilson House," said Mr. Johnson. "There were tramps in
the house there last night, and the police came very near catching them.
He found the door unlocked night before last. The tramps kept off that
night, but turned up last night in the storm. They have got off,
however. There is only one policeman, but we've sworn in a special to
keep guard on the house."
"I'll go up and see him," said Mr. Pentz.
"We'll all go up," said Harriet.
"Perhaps the tramps have gone off with the boys," said Gertrude.
Quite a crowd had collected with the party as they moved up the street,
and all together came to the front of the house. The policeman was just
disappearing round the other side. They turned to the back to meet him,
and reached the corner where the veranda looked down upon the yard.
At this moment Mr. and Mrs. Wilson appeared. They had arrived at the
station from New York, and heard there the story of the disappearance of
the boys, and of tramps in the house. They hastened to the scene, Mrs.
Wilson almost distracted, and now stood with the rest of the Wilsons and
the Pentzes awaiting the policeman. They heard a cry from above, and
looked up to the veranda.
There were all the boys in a row.
XIII.
A PLACE FOR OSCAR.
"I don't like tiresome fables," said Jack, throwing down an old book in
which he had been trying to read; "it is so ridiculous making the beasts
talk. Of course they never do talk that way, and if they did talk, they
would not be giving that kind of advice But then they never did talk.
Did you ever hear of a beast talking, Ernest, except in a fable?"
Ernest looked up from his book.
"Why, yes," he said decidedly; "the horses of Achilles talked, don't you
remember?"
"Well, that was a kind of fable," said Jack. "Our horses never talked.
Bruno comes near it sometimes. But, Hester, don't you think fables are
tiresome? They always have a moral tagged on!" he continued, appealing
to his older sister; for Ernest proved a poor listener, and was deep in
his book again.
"I will tell you a fable about a boy," said Hester, sitting down with
her work, "and you shall see."
"But don't let the beasts speak," said Jack, "and don't let the boy give
advice!"
"He won't even think of it," said Hester; and she went on.
"Once there was a boy, and his name was Oscar, and he went to a very
good school, where he learned to spell and read very well, and do a few
sums. But when he had learned about as much as that, he took up a new
accomplishment. This was to fling up balls, two at a time, and catch
them in his hands. This he could do wonderfully well; but then a great
many other boys could. He, however, did it at home; he did it on the
sidewalk; he could do it sitting on the very top of a board fence; but
he was most proud of doing it in school hours while the teacher was not
looking. This grew to be his great ambition. He succeeded once or twice,
when she was very busy with a younger class, and once while her back was
turned, and she was at the door receiving a visitor.
"But that did not satisfy him: he wanted to be able to do it when she
was sitting on her regular seat in front of the platform; and every day
he practised, sometimes with one ball and sometimes with another. It
took a great deal of his time and all of his attention; and often some
of the other boys were marked for laughing when he succeeded. And he had
succeeded so well that the teacher had not the slightest idea what they
were laughing at.
"All this was very satisfactory to him; but it was not so well for him
at the end of the year, because it turned out he was behind-hand in all
his studies, and he had to be put down into a lower room. But coming
into another room with a fresh teacher, he had to learn his favorite
accomplishment all over again. It was difficult, for she was a very
rigid teacher, and seemed to have eyes in every hair of her head; and
he sat at the other side of the room, so that he had to change hands
somehow in throwing the balls and getting them into his desk quick
without being seen. But there were a number of younger boys in the
room who enjoyed it all very much, so that he was a real hero, and
felt himself quite a favorite. He did manage to keep up better in his
arithmetic, too, in spite of his having so little time for his books.
Perhaps from having to watch the teacher so much, he did learn the
things that he heard her repeat over and over again; and then he picked
up some knowledge from the other boys. Still, all through his school
term, he was sent about more or less from one room to another. The
teachers could not quite understand why such a bright-looking boy, who
seemed to be always busy with his lessons, was not farther on in his
studies.
"So it happened, when they all left school, Oscar was himself surprised
to find that the boys of his age were ahead of him in various ways. A
large class went on to the high school; but Oscar, as it proved, was not
at all fitted.
"And his father took him round from one place to another to try to get
some occupation for him. He looked so bright that he was taken for an
office-boy here and there; but he never stayed. The fact was, the only
thing he could do well was to fling balls up in the air and catch them
in turn, without letting them drop to the ground; and this he could
only do best on the sly, behind somebody's back. Now this, though
entertaining to those who saw it for a little while, did not help on his
employers, who wondered why they did not get more work out of Oscar.
"A certain Mr. Spenser, a friend of Oscar's father, asked him to bring
his boy round to his office, and he would employ him. 'He will have to
do a little drudgery at first, but I think we can promote him soon, if
he is faithful.'
"So Oscar went with his father to Mr. Spenser's office. Mr. Spenser
started a little when he saw Oscar; but after talking awhile, he went to
his table, and took from a drawer two balls. 'My little boy left these
here this morning,' he said. 'How long do you think,' turning to Oscar,
'you could keep them up in the air without letting them drop?'
"Oscar was much pleased. Here was his chance; at this office the kind of
thing he could do was wanted. So he dexterously took the balls, and
flung them up and down, and might have kept at it all the morning but
that Mr. Spenser said at last, 'That will do, and it is more than
enough.' He said, turning to Oscar's father: 'As soon as I saw your boy
I thought I recognized him as a boy I saw one day in the school flinging
balls up in the air on the sly behind his teacher's back. I'm sorry to
see that he keeps up the art still. But I felt pretty sure that day that
he couldn't have learned much else. I should be afraid to take him into
my office with a propensity to do things on the sly, for I have other
boys that must learn to be busy. Perhaps you can find some other place
for Oscar.'
"But Oscar could not find the kind of place.
"His friend, Seth Clayton, had been fond of collecting insects all
through his school years. Oscar used to laugh at his boxes full of bugs.
But Seth used to study them over, and talk about them with his teacher,
who told him all she knew, and helped him to find books about them. And
it was when she was leaning over a beautiful specimen of a night-moth
that Oscar had performed his most remarkable feat of keeping three balls
in the air for a second and a half. This was in their last school year.
"And now, after some years more of study, Seth was appointed to join an
expedition to go to South America and look up insects along the Amazon
and in Brazil.
"'Just what I should like to do,' said Oscar; for he had studied a
little about the geography of South America, and thought it would be fun
catching cocoanuts with the help of the monkeys, and have a salary too.
'That is something I really could do,' said Oscar to Seth. But Seth
went, and Oscar was left behind.
"Will Leigh had the best chance, perhaps. He used to be a great crony of
Oscar. He went through the Latin School, and then to Harvard College.
'He was always burrowing into Latin and Greek,' said Oscar; 'much as
ever you could do to get an English word out of him.'
"Well, he was wanted as professor in a Western college; so they sent him
for three years to a German university to study up his Hebrew. But he
was to travel about Europe first.
"'I wish they would send me,' said Oscar. 'Travelling about Europe is
just what I should like, and just what I could do. It is a queer thing
that just these fellows that can work hard, and like to work too, get
the easiest places, where they have only to lie back and do nothing!'
"Even some of the boys who were behind him in school and below him in
lower classes came out ahead. Sol Smith, whom Oscar always thought a
stupid dunce, had the place in Mr. Spenser's office that he would have
liked.
"'Mr. Spenser took Sol out to his country place in the mountains,' Oscar
complained, 'where he has boats and plenty of fishing. I know I could
have caught a lot of trout. It is just what I can do. But that stupid
Sol, if he looked at a trout, he probably frightened it away.'
"It was just so all along through life. Oscar could not find exactly the
place he was fitted for. One of his friends, Tracy, went out West as
engineer. 'I could have done that,' said Oscar; 'I could have carried
the chain as easy as not. It is a little hard that all the rest of the
fellows tumble into these easy places. There's Tracy making money hand
over hand.'
"The next he heard of him Tracy was in the legislature. 'That I could
do,' said Oscar. 'It is easy enough to go and sit in the legislature,
with your hands in your pockets, and vote when your turn comes; or you
needn't be there all the time if you don't choose.'
"So they put Oscar up for the legislature; but he lost the vote, because
he forgot to sign his name to an important note, in answer to one of his
'constituents.' He tried for Congress, too, but without success. He
talked round among his friends about running for President. There was
the great White House to live in. He would be willing to stay all
summer. He felt he should be the right person, as he had never done
anything, and would offend no party.
"But even for President something more is needed than catching
half-a-dozen balls without letting them fall to the ground.
"Once, indeed, he had thought of joining a circus; but he could not
equal the Chinese juggler with the balls, and it tired him to jump up
and down. His father got him the place of janitor at an art building;
but he made mistakes in making change for tickets, and put wrong checks
on the umbrellas and parasols, so that nobody got the right umbrella. He
was really glad when they dismissed him, it tired him so. It was harder
work than flinging balls----"
"Look at here, you need not go on," said Jack, interrupting his sister.
"I never did it but just once in school, and that was when you happened
to come in and speak to Miss Eaton. I was real ashamed that you caught
me at it then, and I have never had the balls at school since, or
thought of them."
"The beast has spoken," said Ernest, looking up from his book.
Jack made a rush at his brother. "Oh! stop," said Ernest; "let us find
out what became of Oscar."
"He has married," said Hester, "and his wife supports him."
XIV.
THE FIRST NEEDLE.
"Have you heard the new invention, my dears,
That a man has invented?" said she.
"It's a stick with an eye,
Through which you can tie
A thread so long, it acts like a thong;
And the men have such fun
To see the thing run!
A firm, strong thread, through that eye at the head,
Is pulled over the edges most craftily,
And makes a beautiful seam to see!"
"What! instead of those wearisome thorns, my dear,
Those wearisome thorns?" cried they.
"The seam we pin,
Driving them in;
But where are they, by the end of the day,
With dancing and jumping and leaps by the sea?
For wintry weather
They won't hold together,
Seal-skins and bear-skins all dropping round,
Off from our shoulders down to the ground.
The thorns, the tiresome thorns, will prick,
But none of them ever consented to stick!
Oh, won't the men let us this new thing use?
If we mend their clothes, they can't refuse.
Ah, to sew up a seam for them to see,--
What a treat, a delightful treat, 't will be!"
"Yes, a nice thing, too, for the babies, my dears,--
But, alas, there is but one!" cried she.
"I saw them passing it round, and then
They said it was only fit for men!
What woman would know
How to make the thing go?
There was not a man so foolish to dream
That any woman could sew up a seam!"
Oh, then there was babbling and screaming, my dears!
"At least they might let us do that!" cried they.
"Let them shout and fight
And kill bears day and night;
We'll leave them their spears and hatchets of stone
If they'll give us this thing for our very own.
It will be like a joy above all we could scheme,
To sit up all night and sew such a seam!"
"Beware! take care!" cried an aged old crone,
"Take care what you promise!" said she.
"At first 't will be fun,
But, in the long run,
You'll wish that the men had let the thing be.
Through this stick with an eye
I look and espy
That for ages and ages you'll sit and you'll sew,
And longer and longer the seams will grow,
And you'll wish you never had asked to sew.
But nought that I say.
Can keep back the day;
For the men will return to their hunting and rowing.
And leave to the women forever the sewing."
Ah! what are the words of an aged crone,
For all have left her muttering alone;
And the needle and thread they got with such pains.
They forever must keep as dagger and chains.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Last of the Peterkins, by Lucretia P. Hale