Five Little Peppers and their Friends

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Five Little Peppers and their Friends Page 26

by Margaret Sidney


  XXVI

  MR. HAMILTON DYCE A TRUE FRIEND

  And after every boy protested that he couldn't eat another bit, the butlerand the two maids packed up the trays and carried them down again.

  "Now, Comfort committee," said Mrs. Sterling, "all draw up here."

  So the circle of chairs and crickets was made around the sofa, and the realbusiness of the evening began. It was in the very commencement of thingsJoel noticed that every one of the members seemed to take a fancy to Jack.

  Curtis Park leaned over from his chair. "I say, Frick, change places withme." Frick was next to the visitor, Joel, of course, being on his otherside.

  "No, you don't," said Frick, not over politely.

  "Oh, that's mean," began Curtis, then he remembered where he was, and satback in his chair, biting his pencil.

  Frick straightened himself up with enjoyment

  "You can take my pencil," he said to Jack magnanimously; "we all brought'em, you know, she wanted us to."

  Joel caught the last of this. "Oh, dear me!" he exclaimed, in remorse, "Iforgot mine; and, Jack, I was going to bring one for you."

  "He can take mine," said Frick, shoving a very stubby specimen into Jack'shand.

  "Mine's better," said Curtis, reaching over a brand-new one, just sharpenedto a fine point; "take mine, Jack, you much better."

  Jack, not knowing how to refuse, took it. And the other boys, seeing CurtisPark come down from his high-flown notions enough to notice soconspicuously the new boy, all began to find ever so many things in himthat were worthy of, their attention. So, instead of Joel having to pushhim along, Jack became quite popular. The result was that Joel was left outin the cold.

  "Now," said Mrs. Sterling brightly, after a little of this chat had beengoing on, and Gibson had shaken up her pillows, and raised her mistressinto a more comfortable position, "you all know, of course, that DoctorFisher reports Lawrence ready for a little amusement, if we send it to him,for no one is allowed yet to see him."

  "But we will be soon. Doctor Fisher told my father so yesterday," piped outPorter Knapp, sliding to the edge of his chair.

  "I don't doubt it," said Mrs. Sterling, smiling at him, "but until thatgood time does come, why we who belong to the Comfort committee ought toset to work on something that will cheer him up. And as I believe work ofthat kind always gets along better when ever so many club together at it,why, I thought I'd ask you all to meet here, and we'd see what could bedone this evening. Now what shall we do first?"

  She looked all around the circle, but no one spoke. "Oh, dear me!" shesaid, and her face fell.

  "I'd rather write out conundrums than anything else," said Curtis Park,seeing some answer was expected.

  "Good!" Mrs. Sterling beamed on him. "Does any other boy have something topropose?"

  "Puzzles," said Frick decidedly. "I'd a great deal rather have puzzles;conundrums are just horrid."

  "Two things to choose from," and Mrs. Sterling laughed. Her spirits wererising now, and all the doubts she was beginning to feel overwhelming heras to the wisdom of inviting these boys in for the evening, fled at once.

  "I think puzzles are just as horrid as conundrums," said Joel Pepper,beginning already to feel the prickles run up and down his legs, fromsitting still so long, and wishing for nothing so much as a good scamper;"they're both as horrid as they can be."

  "Oh, Joel!" exclaimed Mrs. Sterling, quite crestfallen.

  "Well, propose something yourself, then, Joe," said his next neighbor, witha nudge.

  "Oh, I can't," said Joel, quite horrified; "I don't know anything that wecan write down."

  Jack leaned over and whispered in his ear.

  "The very thing!" cried Joel, slapping his knee. And, "Tell it yourself,Jack," in the next breath.

  "Oh, no, no," protested Jack, shrinking as far back in his chair as hecould, and getting very red in the face.

  "I very much wish you would, Jack," said Mrs. Sterling. And she looked athim in such a way, that Jack although he had wild thoughts of taking aflying leap out of his chair, and off to the small grocery shop,nevertheless stuck to it manfully and at last found his tongue.

  "We might cut out pictures that spell the names of books," he said.

  "Capital!" said Mrs. Sterling.

  "Well, those are puzzles," said Frick.

  "Well, not like the ones you meant," said Joel, leaning back of Jack tobestow a punch. "Do be still," he added furiously.

  "But mine would be puzzles, anyway," declared Frick, unwilling to give upthe point.

  "Well, we'd much rather have these, anyway," said Curtis Park, projectinghimself into as much of the circle as possible. "Who cares for your oldpuzzles, Frick?"

  "Boys--boys," said Mrs. Sterling gently.

  "Beg pardon," said Curtis. "But we really do want these that Jack has justproposed, Mrs. Sterling. At least I do, and I'd give up conundrums to havethem; so please let us have these."

  "How is it, Frick?" asked Mrs. Sterling. "Do you give up your puzzles infavor of our making Jack's pictures?"

  Frick wriggled in his chair; he wanted his puzzles dreadfully, and hecouldn't see, since he had proposed them first, why he shouldn't carry theday, but every boy was looking at him sharply, so he mumbled, "Yes."

  It was Jack who settled it happily after all.

  "Let's have one of his"--bobbing his head at Frick--"and a conundrum," andhe looked over and smiled at Curtis, "then one of mine after that. Won'tthat do, ma'am?"

  "Well, now, Jack, you've fixed it cleverly," said Mrs. Sterling, muchrelieved. "Get your pencils all ready while Gibson goes into my bedroom andbrings out the pile of magazines, and we'll have such a lovely evening ofwork. You know you must each select pictures, and each write a puzzle, andeach give a conundrum; then they must be read aloud and we will choose thevery best ones to send. Now then "--as Gibson deposited her armful ofmagazines on the little stand, and laid several pairs of scissors on thetop of the pile--"let us all set about it."

  Then what a whirling of leaves and snipping of paper, because they alldecided they would begin on Jack's first.

  "Can't we have some mucilage?" asked Joel.

  "Yes, indeed," said Mrs. Sterling. "Gibson, will you get----"

  Boom, boom, clang, clang, clang! It was the fire-bell, loud and clear andstrong. Down went all the scissors, and a whole litter of papers to thefloor, and the magazines sprawled every way, as each boy sprang out of hischair.

  "Gibson," said Mrs. Sterling faintly.

  "Now, you boys," cried Gibson, hurrying in, her cap strings flying in herperturbation, "don't you know no better than to jump up like that?"

  "Gibson--Gibson," said Mrs. Sterling reprovingly, but she laid her hand onher heart.

  "It's a fire!" cried Joel, with very red cheeks, whirling around from thewindow where the mass of boys was pressed.

  "Well, is that any reason why you should act so and scare the mistress todeath?" said Gibson sharply.

  "We didn't scare her," said Joel bluntly; "it was the fire."

  "Well, we must go," declared little Porter Knapp, struggling out from theknot of boys, who, all bigger and stronger, were pinning him against thewindow most uncomfortably.

  "Oh, he mustn't," Mrs. Sterling said, in alarm.

  "His father wouldn't like it at all; he was to stay here until he was sentfor."

  "It's a fire!" exclaimed Porter, kicking dreadfully, and his face gettingred, "and I _shall_ go!"

  The other boys, just on the edge of saying the same thing, now stood quitestill. Every nerve was quivering to be off to the fire, which, from allappearances, must be a splendid one. The bells were clanging fast andfuriously, hoarse cries were heard, as if raised from hundreds of throats,and now, to add to the general melee, an engine dashed around the corner.They could hear the mad plunge of the horses, the shouts of the people; andthen off in the distance, yet approaching nearer each instant, was anotherand evidently a more powerful one, the horses at a mad gallop. It was toomuch for any boy to
stand.

  "You see we _must_ go." Curtis Park went over to the sofa, and saidthis hoarsely. "He's a baby"--pointing to Porter--"and he's got to stayhere, but we big boys must go."

  Mrs. Sterling looked up, and her face grew white. "But your fatherswouldn't wish you to go, I am quite sure," she said.

  Curtis turned away his face, but his teeth were set. "I'm going," he saidbriefly.

  Jack Parish's head spun, and he clenched his hands. Why had he come to thissick woman's house! If he were only out in the free, open air, he'd go in aflash. His father let him run to fires, and it wouldn't be many minutesbefore he'd be in the thick of it. He'd make a break and run!

  But how white she looked as she laid her head on the pillow. Like it ornot, there he was in her house, an invited guest; and she'd been so kind tohim and sent him the first invitation he'd ever had. He opened his hardfists and closed them tighter than ever. Curtis Park was now at the head ofthe stairs. Having decided, he was bolting off. Little Porter Knapp wasengaged in kicking Gibson, who was detaining him by the end of his jacket,and screaming wrathfully and slapping her hands. The other boys, most ofthem making up their minds to follow Curtis, were watching proceedings.

  Jack strode off to Curtis. "See here," he said, "we ought not to go, don'tyou know?"

  Curtis turned on him in a towering passion. "You let me alone, you grocer'sboy, you! What business is it of yours?"

  "I may be a grocer's boy," said Jack, feeling himself wonder fully cool, asthe other's anger raged, "but I know something of good manners, p'raps, andwe're scaring that lady to death."

  Curtis Park was dreadfully proud of his manners, and he would have stoppedthere, but as it again occurred to him that this was the son of a grocerwho was setting up to be an authority, he cried angrily:

  "You're a great one to teach me manners," and he dashed down the stairs andwas out of the house.

  "I wish I'd stopped him," said Jack to himself. "Hello, here's the wholemob"--as all the boys except Joel and David, and of course Porter, nowplunged out to do the same thing. "No, you don't." He squared up in frontof the staircase. "Not one of you goes down there."

  They brought up with a gasp. At that instant a cheery voice in the hallbelow rang out:

  "Hello, boys; I knew you were to be here tonight. Don't you want to comewith me to the fire?" It was Hamilton Dyce to whom the voice belonged.

  And in five minutes Hamilton Dyce set forth, with Mrs. Sterling's completeapproval; a string of boys in his wake, including little Porter, who wasparted from Gibson only on her hearing her mistress say, "Yes, indeed, hecan go; but do look out for him."

  Mr. Dyce nodded over to her couch. "Come on, you little rascal"--toPorter--"you stick close to me or--" he didn't finish the sentence.

  Gibson, pale, and shaking in every limb, but seeing no reason to regretthat she had hung on to little Porter's jacket, sank into a chair, andsimply looked at her mistress.

  "Nevertheless," said Mrs. Sterling, with a long breath, and beginning tosmile, "I am very glad those boys were here to supper."

  If her mistress could smile, it wasn't so very black and dreadful afterall, and Gibson came enough out of her gloom to mutter, "But look at thisroom," and she waved her hands in despair.

  "Oh, that's nothing," said Mrs. Sterling cheerfully, and then she laughedoutright as she glanced around at the effects of the tumult. "Gibson, comehere a minute."

  The old serving-woman crept out of her chair, and went over to the sofa.

  "Do you know"--Mrs. Sterling took her arm and pulled her gently down to alevel with the face on the pillow, and her soft eyes twinkled--"it reallyseems good to see such a muss for once in my life: you do keep me soimmaculately fine, Gibson."

  "Oh, mistress!" breathed Gibson, aghast.

  "And to think I have had boys, actually young life here in this room." Mrs.Sterling raised herself suddenly to rest on one elbow.

  "Mistress--mistress," implored the alarmed Gibson, with restraining hands,"you'll hurt yourself."

  "No, I shan't," protested Mrs. Sterling, her eyes beaming, and going onresolutely, "and just to think of boys being here!"--she looked around theroom with a sudden affection--"and liking it--for they did, Gibson, theysurely did, until the fire started. Oh, it is perfectly beautiful!"

  "Well, do lie back, mistress," begged Gibson, thumping up the pillowsinvitingly, "else those dreadful creatures will finish you entirely."

  "Don't say so," cried Mrs. Sterling laughingly, "and I will be good," andshe settled back comfortably into her accustomed place. "Yes, Gibson, Ihave my young folks now, the same as other people," she added proudly. "Youneedn't try to fix up the room yet; you may finish the story you werereading to me last night."

  She had to turn her face on the pillow, for the smile would come, at thepicture of Gibson, the immaculate, sitting down calmly in the midst of theawful effects of the tumult that had so vexed her soul.

  She had her young people, there was no manner of doubt after that. Andthough the exit from their evening's excitement was not again made to theclang of the fire-bell, all the subsequent visits held fun and jollity, andquiet enjoyment, and everything else that was delightful, mixed uptogether.

  And the Comfort committee had so much pleasure out of the whole thing, thatone evening little Porter looked up from his laborious pasting, whereby ajoke from a funny paper was going down for the sick boy's amusement.

  "I wish some one else would get hurt," he said abruptly, without stoppingto think.

  "Oh, you beggar!" It was Curtis Park who turned on him, though every boyhad glanced up in surprise.

  "We can't have such fun," said Porter, waving his sticky hands in bothdirections, "unless they do," and he twisted uncomfortably in his chair, ashe realized the effect of his words.

  "Well, we must think of somebody else to help with our Comfort committee,"said Mrs. Sterling from her sofa. "Don't worry, Porter, we won't letourselves die out for want of work. Boys--" She looked at them suddenly,and raised herself on her elbow, Gibson over in her watchful cornertrotting across in great apprehension.

  "Mistress--mistress," she began.

  "There are ever so many young people who are hurt and sick and distressedand are taken right out of life." She was gazing at them now with eyes thatwere large and dark and shining.

  "But we don't know them," burst out Joel Pepper, for she seemed to expectsomebody to answer.

  "No, but they need you."

  "Mistress--mistress," begged Gibson, hanging over her.

  "And if you do the work after Lawrence doesn't need it, and he is here withus, well and happy once more, I will see that some sick or unhappy boy getsit."

  Joel Pepper hopped out of his chair, upsetting the mucilage bottle, seeingwhich, Gibson left her mistress to reach the table in time to save adisaster.

  "Will you--will you?" he cried, running over to the sofa. "Will you giveour things, if we make them, to some poor sick boys who are hurt, Mrs.Sterling?"

  "I surely will, Joel," promised Mrs. Sterling, taking his two brown handsin her thin one.

  "Then I'm going to make things," declared Joel, who never in his lifebefore had been willing to sit still and cut out and snip and paste andwrite, and he plunged back to his seat. "Oh!" he cried, in dismay, and hisface grew terribly red, "did I upset that?"--pointing to the mucilagebottle.

  "You surely did," said Gibson tartly, and taking up the last of the stickymess with a wet towel, "and I suppose you'll do it again, or some of therest of you boys will. It don't make much difference which," and she movedoff slowly.

  "Gibson--Gibson," said Mrs. Sterling gently.

  "Oh, Gibson!" Joel flew after her and twitched her apron string.

  "What is it?" She turned on him with asperity. "I never will upset themucilage bottle again, I won't, Gibson, really."

  "See that you don't," replied Gibson, moving off with small faith in suchpromises.

  And another promise had that very evening been made, just before the boyshad gathered in Mrs
. Sterling's handsome sitting-room.

  Curtis Park had been through several spasms of distress over his attack onJack, when, whirling around from the friendly attitude he had chosen toassume, he had made a tirade on the grocer's son. Look at it whichever wayhe might, it didn't seem pleasant to view. And all the delight in the fireand the companionship of Mr. Dyce, of whom all the boys were exceedinglyfond, was suddenly blotted out. He went home that night, and crept intobed, a most disconsolate boy.

  "I was a beastly cad," he fumed, kicking the covering down to the foot, androlling out with the vain attempt to find some diversion. But that beingimpossible, he tumbled in again, with his unhappy thoughts.

  And all through the following days, go whichever way he might, there wasthe fact to stare him in the face, that he, Curtis Park, who had hithertoprided himself upon his fine manners, had dropped from his height, toblackguard a boy, who, despite the fact of having been born the son of alittle grocer on Common Street, had yet shown himself capable of theheight.

  "It's no use to deny it. I've been a bully and a cad," he groaned, andwiped the perspiration from his face. "What can I do!"

  There was only one way, and he knew it, just as well at first as after allthe fencing with himself that ensued the next few days. And at last on thisvery evening, he stopped fighting the idea, and marched up to what itsuggested, like a man.

  "See here, will you, though I shouldn't think you'd want to speak to me."It was a boy who said this to Jack standing on the step of the grocer'sfront door, next to the shop.

  "Hey?" said Jack, in a great bewilderment. Was that really Curtis Park,whose rap on the door had announced him?

  "Oh, it's no use to deny, Jack," said Curtis, speaking rapidly anddesperately, "that I've been a cad--a mean, low cad--to talk to you in thatway. It's done, and can't be helped now, only I want you to know what Ithink of it."

  Jack swallowed hard. He was going to put out his hand, but luckily thoughtin time, This is Curtis Park.

  "I don't wonder you won't shake hands with me," said Curtis, who saw themovement. "I'm no end sorry; and perhaps sometime, Jack, why, you will."

  Jack's brown hand shot out so swiftly it nearly knocked the other boy fromthe doorstep.

  "It's all right," he said heartily.

  "And you will never have another chance to call me a cad, I promise you,"declared Curtis, wringing it. "Come on now, Jack"--hooking him by thearm--"it's time to go to Mrs. Sterling's; this is the evening, you know."

  And the boys who had begun to think they had made a mistake in supposingthat Curtis Park had taken a fancy to Jack Parish, were pushed back intotheir first conviction by seeing them come into the meeting of the Comfortcommittee arm in arm.

 

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