THE PETERKINS ARE OBLIGED TO MOVE.
AGAMEMNON had long felt it an impropriety to live in a house that wascalled a "semi-detached" house, when there was no other "semi" to it.It had always remained wholly detached, as the owner had never built theother half. Mrs.
Peterkin felt this was not a sufficient reason for undertaking theterrible process of a move to another house, when they were fullysatisfied with the one they were in.
But a more powerful reason forced them to go. The track of a newrailroad had to be carried directly through the place, and a station wasto be built on that very spot.
Mrs. Peterkin so much dreaded moving that she questioned whether theycould not continue to live in the upper part of the house and give upthe lower part to the station. They could then dine at the restaurant,and it would be very convenient about travelling, as there would be nodanger of missing the train, if one were sure of the direction.
But when the track was actually laid by the side of the house, and thesteam-engine of the construction train puffed and screamed under thedining-room windows, and the engineer calmly looked in to see what thefamily had for dinner, she felt, indeed, that they must move.
But where should they go? It was difficult to find a house thatsatisfied the whole family. One was too far off, and looked into atan-pit; another was too much in the middle of the town, next door toa machine-shop. Elizabeth Eliza wanted a porch covered with vines, thatshould face the sunset; while Mr.
Peterkin thought it would not be convenient to sit there looking towardsthe west in the late afternoon (which was his only leisure time), forthe sun would shine in his face. The little boys wanted a house witha great many doors, so that they could go in and out often. But Mr.Peterkin did not like so much slamming, and felt there was more dangerof burglars with so many doors.
Agamemnon wanted an observatory, and Solomon John a shed for a workshop.If he could have carpenters' tools and a workbench he could build anobservatory, if it were wanted.
But it was necessary to decide upon something, for they must leavetheir house directly. So they were obliged to take Mr. Finch's, at theCorners. It satisfied none of the family. The porch was a piazza, andwas opposite a barn. There were three other doors,--too many toplease Mr. Peterkin, and not enough for the little boys. There was noobservatory, and nothing to observe if there were one, as the house wastoo low and some high trees shut out any view. Elizabeth Eliza hadhoped for a view; but Mr. Peterkin con soled her by deciding it was morehealthy to have to walk for a view, and Mrs. Peterkin agreed that theymight get tired of the same every day.
And everybody was glad a selection was made, and the little boys carriedtheir india-rubber boots the very first afternoon.
Elizabeth Eliza wanted to have some system in the moving, and spent theevening in drawing up a plan. It would be easy to arrange everythingbeforehand, so that there should not be the confusion that her motherdreaded, and the discomfort they had in their last move. Mrs. Peterkinshook her head; she did not think it possible to move with any comfort.Agamemnon said a great deal could be done with a list and a programme.
Elizabeth Eliza declared if all were well arranged a programme wouldmake it perfectly easy. They were to have new parlor carpets, whichcould be put down in the new house the first thing. Then the parlorfurniture could be moved in, and there would be two comfortable rooms,in which Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin could sit while the rest of the movewent on. Then the old parlor carpets could be taken up for the newdining-room and the downstairs bedroom, and the family could meanwhiledine at the old house. Mr. Peterkin did not object to this, though thedistance was considerable, as he felt exercise would be good for themall.
Elizabeth Eliza's programme then arranged that the dining-room furnitureshould be moved the third day, by which time one of the old parlorcarpets would be down in the new dining-room, and they could still sleepin the old house. Thus there would always be a quiet, comfortable placein one house or the other. Each night, when Mr. Peterkin came home, hewould find some place for quiet thought and rest, and each day thereshould be moved only the furniture needed for a certain room. Greatconfusion would be avoided and nothing misplaced. Elizabeth Eliza wrotethese last words at the head of her programme,--"Misplace nothing."
And Agamemnon made a copy of the programme for each member of thefamily.
THE PETERKINS ARE MOVED.--Page 126. The first thing to be done was tobuy the parlor carpets. Elizabeth Eliza had already looked at somein Boston, and the next morning she went, by an early train, with herfather, Agamemnon, and Solomon John, to decide upon them.
They got home about eleven o'clock, and when they reached the housewere dismayed to find two furniture wagons in front of the gate, alreadypartly filled! Mrs. Peterkin was walking in and out of the open door, alarge book in one hand, and a duster in the other, and she came to meetthem in an agony of anxiety. What should they do? The furniture cartshad appeared soon after the rest had left for Boston, and the menhad insisted upon beginning to move the things. In vain had she shownElizabeth Eliza's programme; in vain had she insisted they must takeonly the parlor furniture. They had declared they must put the heavypieces in the bottom of the cart, and the lighter furniture on top. Soshe had seen them go into every room in the house, and select one pieceof furniture after another, without even looking at Elizabeth Eliza'sprogramme; she doubted if they could have read it if they had looked atit.
Mr. Peterkin had ordered the carters to come; but he had no idea theywould come so early, and supposed it would take them a long time to fillthe carts.
But they had taken the dining-room sideboard first,--a heavy piece offurniture,--and all its contents were now on the dining-room tables.Then, indeed, they selected the parlor book-case, but had set every bookon the floor The men had told Mrs. Peterkin they would put the books inthe bottom of the cart, very much in the order they were taken from theshelves. But by this time Mrs. Peterkin was considering the carters asnatural enemies, and dared not trust them; besides, the books ought allto be dusted. So she was now holding one of the volumes of Agamemnon'sEncyclopaedia, with difficulty, in one hand, while she was dusting itwith the other. Elizabeth Eliza was in dismay. At this moment four menwere bringing down a large chest of drawers from her father's room, andthey called to her to stand out of the way. The parlors were a scene ofconfusion. In dusting the books Mrs. Peterkin neglected to restore themto the careful rows in which they were left by the men, and they lay inhopeless masses in different parts of the room. Elizabeth Eliza sunk indespair upon the end of a sofa.
"It would have been better to buy the red and blue carpet," said SolomonJohn.
"Is not the carpet bought?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin. And then they wereobliged to confess they had been unable to decide upon one, and had comeback to consult Mrs. Peterkin.
"What shall we do?" asked Mrs. Peterkin.
Elizabeth Eliza rose from the sofa and went to the door, saying, "Ishall be back in a moment."
Agamemnon slowly passed round the room, collecting the scattered volumesof his Encyclopaedia. Mr. Peterkin offered a helping hand to a manlifting a wardrobe.
Elizabeth Eliza soon returned. "I did not like to go and ask her. ButI felt that I must in such an emergency. I explained to her the wholematter, and she thinks we should take the carpet at Makillan's."
"Makillan's" was a store in the village, and the carpet was the only oneall the family had liked without any doubt; but they had supposed theymight prefer one from Boston.
The moment was a critical one. Solomon John was sent directly toMakillan's to order the carpet to be put down that very day. But whereshould they dine? where should they have their supper? and where was Mr.Peterkin's "quiet hour"?
Elizabeth Eliza was frantic; the dining-room floor and table werecovered with things.
It was decided that Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin should dine at the Bromwicks,who had been most neighborly in their offers, and the rest should getsomething to eat at the baker's.
Agamemnon and Elizabeth Eliza hast
ened away to be ready to receive thecarts at the other house, and direct the furniture as they could. Afterall there was something exhilarating in this opening of the new house,and in deciding where things should go. Gayly Elizabeth Eliza steppeddown the front garden of the new home, and across the piazza, and to thedoor. But it was locked, and she had no keys!
"Agamemnon, did you bring the keys?" she exclaimed.
No, he had not seen them since the morning,--when--ah!--yes, the littleboys were allowed to go to the house for their india-rubber boots,as there was a threatening of rain. Perhaps they had left some doorunfastened--perhaps they had put the keys under the door-mat. No, eachdoor, each window, was solidly closed, and there was no mat!
"I shall have to go to the school to see if they took the keys withthem," said Agamemnon; "or else go home to see if they left them there."The school was in a different direction from the house, and far at theother end of the town; for Mr. Peterkin had not yet changed the boys'school, as he proposed to do after their move.
"That will be the only way," said Elizabeth Eliza; for it had beenarranged that the little boys should take their lunch to school, and notcome home at noon.
She sat down on the steps to wait, but only for a moment, for thecarts soon appeared, turning the corner. What should be done with thefurniture? Of course the carters must wait for the keys, as she shouldneed them to set the furniture up in the right places. But they couldnot stop for this. They put it down upon the piazza, on the steps, inthe garden, and Elizabeth Eliza saw how incongruous it was! There wassomething from every room in the house! Even the large family chest,which had proved too heavy for them to travel with had come down fromthe attic, and stood against the front door.
And Solomon John appeared with the carpet woman, and a boy with awheelbarrow, bringing the new carpet. And all stood and waited. Someopposite neighbors appeared to offer advice and look on, and ElizabethEliza groaned inwardly that only the shabbiest of their furnitureappeared to be standing full in view.
It seemed ages before Agamemnon returned, and no wonder; for he had beento the house, then to the school, then back to the house, for one ofthe little boys had left the keys at home, in the pocket of his clothes.Meanwhile the carpet-woman had waited, and the boy with the wheelbarrowhad waited, and when they got in they found the parlor must be swept andcleaned. So the carpet-woman went off in dudgeon, for she was sure therewould not be time enough to do anything.
And one of the carts came again, and in their hurry the men set thefurniture down anywhere. Elizabeth Eliza was hoping to make a littleplace in the dining-room, where they might have their supper, and gohome to sleep. But she looked out, and there were the carters bringingthe bedsteads, and proceeding to carry them upstairs.
In despair Elizabeth Eliza went back to the old house. If she had beenthere she might have prevented this. She found Mrs. Peterkin in an agonyabout the entry oil-cloth. It had been made in the house, and how couldit be taken out of the house? Agamemnon made measurements; it certainlycould not go out of the front door! He suggested it might be left tillthe house was pulled down, when it could easily be moved out of oneside. But Elizabeth Eliza reminded him that the whole house was tobe moved without being taken apart. Perhaps it could be cut in stripsnarrow enough to go out. One of the men loading the remaining cartdisposed of the question by coming in and rolling up the oil-cloth andcarrying it on on top of his wagon.
Elizabeth Eliza felt she must hurry back to the new house. But whatshould they do?--no beds here, no carpets there! The dining-room tableand sideboard were at the other house, the plates, and forks, andspoons here. In vain she looked at her programme. It was all reversed;everything was misplaced. Mr. Peterkin would suppose they were to eathere and sleep here, and what had become of the little boys?
Meanwhile the man with the first cart had returned. They fell to packingthe dining-room china.
They were up in the attic, they were down in the cellar. Even onesuggested to take the tacks out of the parlor carpets, as they shouldwant to take them next.
Mrs. Peterkin sunk upon a kitchen chair.
"Oh, I wish we had decided to stay and be moved in the house!" sheexclaimed.
Solomon John urged his mother to go to the new house, for Mr. Peterkinwould be there for his "quiet hour." And when the carters at lastappeared, carrying the parlor carpets on their shoulders, she sighed andsaid, "There is nothing left," and meekly consented to be led away.
They reached the new house to find Mr. Peterkin sitting calmly in arocking-chair on the piazza, watching the oxen coming into the oppositebarn. He was waiting for the keys, which Solomon John had taken backwith him. The little boys were in a horse-chestnut tree, at the side ofthe house.
Agamemnon opened the door. The passages were crowded with furniture, thefloors were strewn with books; the bureau was upstairs that was to standin a lower bedroom; there was not a place to lay a table,--there wasnothing to lay upon it; for the knives and plates and spoons had notcome, and although the tables were there they were covered with chairsand boxes.
At this moment came a covered basket from the lady from Philadelphia. Itcontained a choice supper, and forks and spoons, and at the same momentappeared a pot of hot tea from an opposite neighbor. They placed allthis on the back of a bookcase lying upset, and sat around it. SolomonJohn came rushing in from the gate.
"The last load is coming! We are all moved!" he exclaimed; and thelittle boys joined in a chorus, "We are moved! we are moved!"
Mrs. Peterkin looked sadly round; the kitchen utensils were lying on theparlor lounge, and an old family gun on Elizabeth Eliza's hat-box. Theparlor clock stood on a barrel; some coal-scuttles had been placed onthe parlor table, a bust of Washington stood in the door-way, and thelooking-glasses leaned against the pillars of the piazza. But they weremoved! Mrs. Peterkin felt, indeed, that they were very much moved.
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