The Peterkin papers

by Lucretia P. Hale

  THE PETERKINS' CHARADES.

  EVER since the picnic the Peterkins had been wanting to have "something"at their house in the way of entertainment. The little boys wanted toget up a "great Exposition," to show to the people of the place. But Mr.Peterkin thought it too great an effort to send to foreign countries for"exhibits," and it was given up.

  There was, however, a new water-trough needed on the town common,and the ladies of the place thought it ought to be somethinghandsome,--something more than a common trough,--and they ought to workfor it.

  Elizabeth Eliza had heard at Philadelphia how much women had done, andshe felt they ought to contribute to such a cause. She had an idea, butshe would not speak of it at first, not until after she had written tothe lady from Philadelphia. She had often thought, in many cases, ifthey had asked her advice first, they might have saved trouble.

  Still, how could they ask advice before they themselves knew what theywanted?

  It was very easy to ask advice, but you must first know what to askabout. And again: Elizabeth Eliza felt you might have ideas, butyou could not always put them together. There was this idea of thewater-trough, and then this idea of getting some money for it. Soshe began with writing to the lady from Philadelphia. The little boysbelieved she spent enough for it in postage-stamps before it all cameout.

  But it did come out at last that the Peterkins were to havesome charades at their own house for the benefit of the neededwater-trough,--tickets sold only to especial friends. Ann Maria Bromwickwas to help act, because she could bring some old bonnets and gowns thathad been worn by an aged aunt years ago, and which they had always kept.Elizabeth Eliza said that Solomon John would have to be a Turk, and theymust borrow all the red things and cashmere scarfs in the place. Sheknew people would be willing to lend things.

  Agamemnon thought you ought to get in something about the Hindoos, theywere such an odd people. Elizabeth Eliza said you must not have it tooodd, or people would not understand it, and she did not want anything tofrighten her mother.

  She had one word suggested by the lady from Philadelphia in herletters,--the one that had "Turk" in it,--but they ought to have two words"Oh, yes," Ann Maria said, "you must have two words; if the people paidfor their tickets they would want to get their money's worth."

  Solomon John thought you might have "Hindoos"; the little boys couldcolor their faces brown, to look like Hindoos. You could have the firstscene an Irishman catching a hen, and then paying the water-taxes for"dues," and then have the little boys for Hindoos.

  A great many other words were talked of, but nothing seemed to suit.There was a curtain, too, to be thought of, because the folding-doorsstuck when you tried to open and shut them. Agamemnon said that thePan-Elocutionists had a curtain they would probably lend John Osborne,and so it was decided to ask John Osborne to help.

  If they had a curtain they ought to have a stage. Solomon John said hewas sure he had boards and nails enough, and it would be easy to make astage if John Osborne would help put it up.

  All this talk was the day before the charades. In the midst of it AnnMaria went over for her old bonnets and dresses and umbrellas, and theyspent the evening in trying on the various things,--such odd caps andremarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty ofbandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go offwell; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs.

  Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boysbrought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled withcostumes.

  Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew whatthey were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything shehad,--it would all come of use.

  The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnonand Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helpedzealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. Therewas a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, andsuch a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it camein the little boys, shouting, "All the tickets are sold, at ten centseach!"

  "Seventy tickets sold!" exclaimed Agamemnon.

  "Seven dollars for the water-trough!" said Elizabeth Eliza.

  "And we do not know yet what we are going to act!" exclaimed Ann Maria.

  But everybody's attention had to be given to the scene that was goingup in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It wasmagnificent, and represented a forest.

  "Where are we going to put seventy people?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin,venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter.

  The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consistedof boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing andsweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be madeready! It was late, and some of the people had already come to securegood seats, even before the actors had assembled.

  "What are we going to act?" asked Ann Maria.

  "I have been so torn with one thing and another," said Elizabeth Eliza,"I haven't had time to think!"

  "Haven't you the word yet?" asked John Osborne, for the audience wasflocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly.

  "I have got one word in my pocket," said Elizabeth Eliza, "in the letterfrom the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word.Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don't yet understand the whole ofthe word."

  "You don't know the word, and the people are all here!" said JohnOsborne, impatiently.

  "Elizabeth Eliza!" exclaimed Ann Maria, "Solomon John says I'm to be aTurkish slave, and I'll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veilsare? You know I brought them over last night."

  "Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmerescarf!" exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in.

  "Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!" criedanother of the boys.

  And the audience were heard meanwhile taking the seats on the other sideof the thin curtain.

  "You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwick; you are a little hard of hearing; sitwhere you can hear."

  "And let Julia Fitch come where she can see," said another voice.

  "And we have not any words for them to hear or see!" exclaimed JohnOsborne, behind the curtain.

  "Oh, I wish we'd never determined to have charades! exclaimed ElizabethEliza.

  "Can't we return the money?"

  "They are all here; we must give them something!" said John Osborne,heroically.

  "And Solomon John is almost dressed," reported Ann Maria,winding a veil around her head.

  "Why don't we take Solomon John's word 'Hindoos' for the first?" saidAgamemnon.

  John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the "hin," or anything,and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of afeather duster.

  The bell rang, and the first scene began.

  It was a great success. John Osborne's Irish was perfect. Nobody guessedthe word, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause.

  Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates, andmade a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as anold woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to theaudience, speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza, whoappeared in a more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed she went directlyback, saying she had forgotten something But this was supposed to be theeffect intended, and it was loudly cheered.

  Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number oftheir friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the pianotill the scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done upin blankets and turbans.

  "I am thankful that is over," said Elizabeth Eliza, "for now we can actmy word. Only I don't myself know the whole."

  "Never mind, let us act it," said John Osborne, "and the audience canguess the whole."

  "The first syllable must be the letter P," said Elizabeth Eliza, "a
nd wemust have a school."

  Agamemnon was master, and the little boys and their friends went on asscholars.

  All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a schoolby flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master.

  "They'll guess that to be 'row,'" said John Osborne in despair; "they'llnever guess 'P'!"

  The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on JohnOsborne's army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and allthe family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him,veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes.

  This was considered the great scene of the evening, though ElizabethEliza was sure she did not know what to do,--whether to kneel or sitdown; she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she couldnot help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however,kept his solemnity. "I suppose I need not say much," he had said, "for Ishall be the 'Turk who was dreaming of the hour.'" But he did orderthe little boys to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without iceinsisted they must have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, andthe scene closed.

  "What are we to do now?" asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion.

  "We must have an 'inn' scene," said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting herletter; "two inns, if we can."

  "We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and goingto another," said John Osborne.

  "Now is the time for the bandboxes," said Solomon John, who, sincehis Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of thecharade.

  Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to drawSolomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns.The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes.Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his theapplause was immense. At last the curtain fell.

  "Now for the whole," said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stageover a heap of umbrellas.

  "I can't think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me thewhole," said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter.

  "Listen, they are guessing," said John Osborne. "'D-ice-box.' I don'twonder they get it wrong."

  "But we know it can't be that!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony."How can we act the whole if we don't know it ourselves?"

  "Oh, I see it!" said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. "Get your wholefamily in for the last scene."

  Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed thebackground, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and SolomonJohn, leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance,and in front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys, in theirindia-rubber boots.

  The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, "The Peterkins!""P-Turk-Inns!"

  It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole.

  "What a tableau!" exclaimed Mr. Bromwick; "the Peterkin family guessingtheir own charade."