Produced by David Reed
THE PETERKIN PAPERS
By Lucretia P. Hale
Mrs. Peterkin Puts Salt into Her Coffee.
Dedicated
To Meggie (The Daughter of The Lady From Philadelphia)
To Whom These Stories Were First Told
Preface to The Second Edition of The Peterkin Papers
THE first of these stories was accepted by Mr. Howard M. Ticknor forthe "Young Folks." They were afterwards continued in numbers of the "St.Nicholas."
A second edition is now printed, containing a new paper, which has neverbefore been published, "The Peterkins at the Farm."
It may be remembered that the Peterkins originally hesitated aboutpublishing their Family Papers, and were decided by referring the matterto the lady from Philadelphia. A little uncertain of whether she mighthappen to be at Philadelphia, they determined to write and ask her.
Solomon John suggested a postal-card. Everybody reads a postal, andeverybody would read it as it came along, and see its importance, andhelp it on. If the lady from Philadelphia were away, her family and allher servants would read it, and send it after her, for answer.
Elizabeth Eliza thought the postal a bright idea. It would not take solong to write as a letter, and would not be so expensive. But could theyget the whole subject on a postal?
Mr. Peterkin believed there could be no difficulty, there was but onequestion:--
Shall the adventures of the Peterkin family be published?
This was decided upon, and there was room for each of the family tosign, the little boys contenting themselves with rough sketches of theirindia-rubber boots.
Mr. Peterkin, Agamemnon, and Solomon John took the postal-card to thepost-office early one morning, and by the afternoon of that very day,and all the next day, and for many days, came streaming in answers onpostals and on letters. Their card had been addressed to the lady fromPhiladelphia, with the number of her street. But it must have been readby their neighbors in their own town post-office before leaving; it musthave been read along its way: for by each mail came piles of postals andletters from town after town, in answer to the question, and all in thesame tone: "Yes, yes; publish the adventures of the Peterkin family."
"Publish them, of course."
And in time came the answer of the lady from Philadelphia:--"Yes, ofcourse; publish them."
This is why they were published.
THE LADY WHO PUT SALT IN HER COFFEE.
THIS was Mrs. Peterkin. It was a mistake. She had poured out a deliciouscup of coffee, and, just as she was helping herself to cream, she foundshe had put in salt instead of sugar! It tasted bad. What should she do?Of course she couldn't drink the coffee; so she called in the family,for she was sitting at a late breakfast all alone. The family came in;they all tasted, and looked, and wondered what should be done, and allsat down to think.
At last Agamemnon, who had been to college, said, "Why don't we go overand ask the advice of the chemist?" (For the chemist lived over theway, and was a very wise man.) Mrs. Peterkin said, "Yes," and Mr.Peterkin said, "Very well," and all the children said they would go too.So the little boys put on their india-rubber boots, and over they went.
Now the chemist was just trying to find out something which should turneverything it touched into gold; and he had a large glass bottle intowhich he put all kinds of gold and silver, and many other valuablethings, and melted them all up over the fire, till he had almost foundwhat he wanted. He could turn things into almost gold. But just now hehad used up all the gold that he had round the house, and gold washigh. He had used up his wife's gold thimble and his great-grandfather'sgold-bowed spectacles; and he had melted up the gold head of hisgreat-great-grandfather's cane; and, just as the Peterkin family camein, he was down on his knees before his wife, asking her to let him haveher wedding-ring to melt up with an the rest, because this time he knewhe should succeed, and should be able to turn everything into gold; andthen she could have a new wedding-ring of diamonds, all set in emeraldsand rubies and topazes, and all the furniture could be turned into thefinest of gold.
Now his wife was just consenting when the Peterkin family burst in.You can imagine how mad the chemist was! He came near throwing hiscrucible--that was the name of his melting-pot--at their heads. But hedidn't. He listened as calmly as he could to the story of how Mrs.Peterkin had put salt in her coffee.
At first he said he couldn't do anything about it; but when Agamemnonsaid they would pay in gold if he would only go, he packed up hisbottles in a leather case, and went back with them all.
First he looked at the coffee, and then stirred it. Then he put in alittle chlorate of potassium, and the family tried it all round; but ittasted no better. Then he stirred in a little bichlorate of magnesia.But Mrs. Peterkin didn't like that. Then he added some tartaric acidand some hypersulphate of lime. But no; it was no better. "I have it!"exclaimed the chemist,--"a little ammonia is just the thing!" No, itwasn't the thing at all.
Then he tried, each in turn, some oxalic, cyanic, acetic, phosphoric,chloric, hyperchloric, sulphuric, boracic, silicic, nitric, formic,nitrous nitric, and carbonic acids. Mrs. Peterkin tasted each, and saidthe flavor was pleasant, but not precisely that of coffee. So then hetried a little calcium, aluminum, barium, and strontium, a little clearbitumen, and a half of a third of a sixteenth of a grain of arsenic.This gave rather a pretty color; but still Mrs.
Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemistwas not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, somegranulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishingoff with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was notsatisfied.
The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out thesalt. The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed.Perhaps a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was allthe time he could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were allmuch obliged to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Goldwas now 2.69 3/4, so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gaveAgamemnon a pretty little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But therewas the coffee! All sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said,"Why don't we go to the herb-woman?" Elizabeth Eliza was the onlydaughter. She was named after her two aunts,--Elizabeth, from the sisterof her father; Eliza, from her mother's sister. Now, the herb-woman wasan old woman who came round to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. Theyall shouted with joy at the idea of asking her, and Solomon John andthe younger children agreed to go and find her too. The herb-womanlived down at the very end of the street; so the boys put on theirindia-rubber boots again, and they set off. It was a long walk throughthe village, but they came at last to the herb-woman's house, at thefoot of a high hill. They went through her little garden. Here she hadmarigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and tall sunflowers, and allkinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air was full of tansy-teaand elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and a brandy-cherrytree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung its deliciousfruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, which smelt veryspicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and peppermint, andall kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the ceiling; and on theshelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the like.
But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods toget some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would followher,--Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had toclimb up over high rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and blackberry-vines. But the little boys had their india-rubber boots. At lastthey discovered the little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It wassteeple-crowned, without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowelround a sassafras bush. They told he
r their story,---how their mother hadput salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse insteadof better, and how their mother couldn't drink it, and wouldn't shecome and see what she could do? And she said she would, and took up herlittle old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with everlastingand pennyroyal, and went back to her house.
There she stopped, and stuffed her huge pockets with some of all thekinds of herbs. She took some tansy and peppermint, and caraway-seedand dill, spearmint and cloves, pennyroyal and sweet marjoram, basil androsemary, wild thyme and some of the other time,---such as you have inclocks,--sappermint and oppermint, catnip, valerian, and hop; indeed,there isn't a kind of herb you can think of that the little old womandidn't have done up in her little paper bags, that had all been dried inher little Dutch-oven. She packed these all up, and then went back withthe children, taking her stick.
Meanwhile Mrs. Peterkin was getting quite impatient for her coffee.
As soon as the little old woman came she had it set over the fire, andbegan to stir in the different herbs. First she put in a little hop forthe bitter. Mrs.
Peterkin said it tasted like hop-tea, and not at all like coffee. Thenshe tried a little flagroot and snakeroot, then some spruce gum, andsome caraway and some dill, some rue and rosemary, some sweet marjoramand sour, some oppermint and sappermint, a little spearmint andpeppermint, some wild thyme, and some of the other tame time, sometansy and basil, and catnip and valerian, and sassafras, ginger, andpennyroyal. The children tasted after each mixture, but made up dreadfulfaces. Mrs. Peterkin tasted, and did the same. The more the old womanstirred, and the more she put in, the worse it all seemed to taste.
So the old woman shook her head, and muttered a few words, and saidshe must go. She believed the coffee was bewitched. She bundled up herpackets of herbs, and took her trowel, and her basket, and her stick,and went back to her root of sassafras, that she had left half in theair and half out. And all she would take for pay was five cents incurrency.
Then the family were in despair, and all sat and thought a great while.It was growing late in the day, and Mrs. Peterkin hadn't had her cupof coffee. At last Elizabeth Eliza said, "They say that the lady fromPhiladelphia, who is staying in town, is very wise. Suppose I go and askher what is best to be done." To this they all agreed, it was a greatthought, and off Elizabeth Eliza went.
She told the lady from Philadelphia the whole story,--how her mother hadput salt in the coffee; how the chemist had been called in; how he triedeverything but could make it no better; and how they went for the littleold herb-woman, and how she had tried in vain, for her mother couldn'tdrink the coffee. The lady from Philadelphia listened very attentively,and then said, "Why doesn't your mother make a fresh cup of coffee?"Elizabeth Eliza started with surprise.
Solomon John shouted with joy; so did Agamemnon, who had just finishedhis sum; so did the little boys, who had followed on. "Why didn't wethink of that?" said Elizabeth Eliza; and they all went back to theirmother, and she had her cup of coffee.