Peterkin Papers — About Elizabeth Eliza's Piano/The Peterkins Try to Become Wise/Mrs. Peterkin Wishes To Go To Drive

ELIZABETH 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 window, which Agamemnon could do with his long arms.

Then Elizabeth Eliza should go round upon the piazza, and open the piano.

Then she could have 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 practiced in the mornings with her cloak on; but she was obliged to give up her music in the evenings the family shivered so.

One day, when she was talking with the lady from Philadelphia, 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 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 Philadelphia goes home again?

” THE PETERKINS TRY TO BECOME WISE.

THEY were sitting round the breakfast-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.

“We want a library.

” “We want a library!

” said Solomon John.

And all of them exclaimed, “We want a library!

” “Let us think how we shall get one,” said Mrs. Peterkin.

“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.

“That’s the book-case part,” said Elizabeth Eliza; “but where are the books?

” So they sat and thought a little while, when Solomon John exclaimed, “I will make a book!

” They all looked at him in wonder.

“Yes,” 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. Peterkins put on her cape-bonnet, and the little boys got into their india-rubber boots, and off they went.

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 nutgalls 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 minister’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, but 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, however, 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, so they could look at them quietly.

SOLOMON JOHN’S BOOK.

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 torchlight 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 dispersed, 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 bookseller was just shutting up his shop.

However, he agreed to go in and get a quill, which he did, and they hurried 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 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.

ONE morning Mrs. Peterkin was feeling 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 morning!

” 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 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 her 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 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 carriage 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. 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, “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.