Little Peter: A Christmas Morality for Children of any Age

  CHAPTER II.

  WHICH INTRODUCES THE READER TO AN ADMIRER OF THE ANCIENT ROMANS.

  Now, Peter's father was a person of some consequence, or, to speakquite correctly, thought himself of some consequence, which, as youwill probably find when you grow older, often comes to much the samething. He had his own piece of land, and his own herd of cows, whichthe boys, in the spring time, would help Gustavus to drive, along withthe cows of their neighbours, to the wide, grass lands that borderthe forest on the west, where the blue salvias, and gentians, andcampanulas, and St. Bruno's white lilies grow in the long grass. Butyears ago Peter's father had been a soldier in the French army, andhad fought in great battles, and had been in Italy, and even acrossthe sea to Africa. He could tell surprising stories of sandy deserts,and camels, and lions, and Arabs, and a number of other remarkablethings that he had seen during his travels. And when he went down, ashe frequently did, and sat in the wine shop at Nullepart, everybodytreated him with deference and distinction, and called him not plainLepage, but Master Lepage, and listened respectfully to all that he hadto say.

  Then Master Lepage was very well pleased, and he would take his pipeout of his mouth, and spread out his hands like some celebrated orator,and give the company the benefit of his views upon any subject--eventhose he did not very well understand. For the great thing is to talk,if you want to make an impression upon society--the sense of that whichyou say is quite a secondary consideration. Lepage was a handsome man;with a bright, grey eye, and a nose like a hawk's beak; and a fine,grey moustache, the ends of which curled up till they nearly touchedhis eyebrows. He held himself very erect, so that even in his blueblouse and peg-top trousers, with a great, brown umbrella under hisarm, he still looked every inch a soldier.

  But Master Lepage, notwithstanding his superior knowledge of theworld, did not always contrive to please his friends and companions.For he was--so he said--a philosophic politician; and, like most otherphilosophers and politicians, he sometimes became both tedious andirritable. On such occasions his voice would grow loud, and he wouldthump the table with his fist till the plates danced and the glassesrattled again; and the more the person with whom he was conversingsmiled and apologised, while he differed from him in opinion, thelouder his voice would grow, and the more he would thump the table, andstamp and violently declare that all who did not agree with him wereidiots and dolts, and traitors.

  He had two fixed ideas. He venerated the republican form of government,and he despised the Prussians. If one of his sons was idle, loiteringover his work or complaining that he had too much to do, Master Lepagewould say to him sternly:--'Sluggard, you are unworthy to be the childof a glorious republic.'

  Or if one of the cows kicked, when Gustavus was milking her, he wouldcry out:--'Hey then, thou blue imbecile, recollect that thou art thecow of a free citizen, and do not behave like a cut-throat Prussian!'

  And during the long evenings of all the winters that little Peter couldremember--they were not so very many, though, after all--when thesupper was cleared away and the hearth swept, his father, after puttingon a big pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, and drawing his chair close upto the table so that the lamp-light might fall full on his book, wouldread to himself the history of the famous Roman Republic. And alwaysonce or twice, during the course of the evening, he would lay down thebook and take off his spectacles, and as he rubbed the glasses of themwith his red pocket-handkerchief, would sigh to himself and say quitegently:--'Ah! but those were times worth living in! They had men worthlooking at in those days.'

  The elder of little Peter's brothers was named Antony. He was a smart,brisk young fellow. He was always in a little bit of a hurry and fullof business. He liked to go down to the town to market. He liked todrive a sharp bargain, and when he had nothing else to do he would roamaway to the railway station, and hang over the blue wooden railings atthe back of the platform, staring at the crowded passenger or heavilyladen freight trains going through to Paris, or over the frontier intoSwitzerland. And if he ever happened to catch sight of any soldierson the trains, his eyes grew bright and his face eager, and he wouldwhistle a stirring march as he walked home through the forest, andwould chatter all the evening about the glorious fun he meant to havewhen the time came for him to serve his term in the army. And, at that,Master Lepage would look up from the pages of his Roman history book,and nod confidentially to his wife, and say:--

  'Eh! our Antony is a fine fellow. He will help some day to thrash thoserascally Prussians.'

  But she would answer rather sadly:--

  'That will be as the Lord pleases. There is sorrow and sin enough inthe world already, it seems to me, without war to make it greater.'

  Then Lepage would shrug his shoulders with an air of slight disgust,and say:--

  'My wife, you are no doubt an excellent woman. But your mind isnarrow. Only a secular education, and, above all, a careful study ofancient history, can enable us to speak intelligently on these greatquestions.'

  Then he would wipe his spectacles and return once again to thecampaigns of the Romans.

  Paul, the second boy, was very different to his brother. He was talland lanky, with quiet, brown eyes and straight, black hair. He had agreat turn for mechanics, and made little Peter all manner of charmingtoys--mill-wheels that turned all splashing and sparkling in the clearwater of the stream; or windmills, to set up in the garden, and scarethe birds away from the fruit with their clatter, and many other prettyingenious things. Paul did not talk much about himself; he was aquiet, silent fellow, but he was always busy with his fingers makinglittle models of all the machinery he could see or get pictures of,and, though his father was not quite so partial to him as to Antony, hewould sometimes say:--

  'Eh! our Paul, too, will distinguish himself, and bring credit upon hisfamily and country.'

  Now on the particular evening that I was telling you about in thelast chapter, Antony did not come in till quite late. The rest of thefamily had had their supper, and Eliza was grumbling to Gustavus as sherummaged about in the back kitchen.

  'Why can't people be punctual?' she said. 'It would vex a saint to bekept muddling about till just upon bed-time unable to complete theday's work and wash up the plates and dishes. Those who come in lateshould go to bed supperless if I had my way.'

  'Umph,' said Gustavus--which was a remarkably safe answer, since itmeant chiefly nothing at all.

  Master Lepage sat studying the story of the gallant Horatius, howhe and two others defended the falling bridge over the river Tiberagainst all the host of Clusium and the allied cities. Paul, with apocket-knife and a number of bits of wood on the table before him, wasmaking a model of a force-pump. And Susan Lepage sat in the chimneycorner knitting, little Peter on a stool at her feet resting his headagainst her knees. He was getting so sleepy that his eyes would shutthough he tried very hard to keep them open. Sometimes his poor, littlehead nodded over all on one side; and then he woke up with a greatstart, dreaming that he had tumbled out of the old pear-tree in thegarden, bump, on to the ground. And the dream was so vivid that it tookhim quite a minute and a half to remember where he was, and to realisethat he was sitting on his own little stool in the kitchen, insteadof lying on the asparagus bed under the pear-tree. But sleepy or not,Peter was determined not to go to bed till he had heard the news fromNullepart.

  The longest waiting must needs end at last. There was a sound of briskfootsteps, the door was thrown open, and Antony entered the kitchen,with the rush and bustle of a healthy, young whirlwind.

  Peter was wide awake in a moment. He jumped up and caught hold of theskirt of his brother's blouse.

  'Oh, tell me, tell me,' he cried, 'have they dressed the stable in thechurch, and can I go on Sunday and see it?'

  Now, it is always a great mistake to rush at people with questionswhen they are full of their own affairs; and so little Peter found inthis case. For Antony had some money to pay over to his father, anda great many things to say on his own account; and then, too, he wasvery
hungry and wanted his supper, so he pushed poor Peter aside ratherroughly, and told him to get out of the way and mind his own business,and intimated generally that he was an inconvenient and superfluousperson.

  Peter retired to his stool again feeling very small. Betweensleepiness and disappointment he was very much inclined to cry.Perhaps, indeed, he would have done so, had not Cincinnatus got up andrubbed gently against his legs, with a high back and a very upstandingtail, purring very loud, too, and saying as plain as cat-language couldsay it:--

  'Console yourself. I, Cincinnatus, regret what has occurred. I am yourfriend. Confide in me. All will yet go well.'

  For Cincinnatus was a cat of feeling, and never lost an opportunity ofmaking himself agreeable if he could do it without loss of dignity.However, when Antony had transacted his business, and eaten hissupper, and bragged a little about his own performances of one sortand another, he became a trifle ashamed of having behaved so roughlyto his little brother. He did not say so, for few people have courageto make a public confession of their faults. But he described, withgreat animation, how the workmen and the good sisters were busy inthe church; how bright everybody said the Virgin's blue mantle wouldbe, how there was real straw in the stable, how charmingly naturalthe cattle and the donkey looked, and how ingeniously a lamp would bearranged--just like the star, in fact--to shine above the manger. Peterfelt satisfied again. But he was still a little hurt; so he sat quietand rubbed Cincinnatus' head in silence, though there were a hundredand one questions he was longing to ask.

  'You will come with us, _mon ami_?' said Susan Lepage, looking acrossat her husband, who had just laid down his book, and was wiping hisspectacles with his red handkerchief.

  'Your sons will take good care of you,' he answered. 'As for me, I willkeep house.'

  'It is the first time we take our little Peter,' she said, and therewas a pleading tone in her voice.

  The little boy loved both his father and mother; though perhapshe loved his mother best, for he was rather afraid of his fathersometimes. But now for some reason he grew very bold. He jumped up andtrotted across the kitchen, and climbed up on his father's knee.

  'Oh, it will be so beautiful,' he said--'And we shall all be sohappy--do come, father, do come too.'

  Master Lepage looked at him very kindly out of his shrewd, grey eyes,and gently pinched his cheek.

  'No, no, my son,' he answered, 'go with your mother and your brothers.These shows are admirable for pious women and for the young. But yousee I am no longer very young, and they no longer greatly interestme. Those who think deeply upon politics and philosophy outgrow thesatisfaction that others derive from such devout illusions. Every agehas its appropriate pastimes. Go, my children. As for me, I will remainat home, read the newspaper, and pursue my studies in ancient history.'

  'Cannot you think of something better than the doings of those unhappy,old heathens for one day in the week, _mon ami_?' asked his wife.

  Little Peter looked up at her quickly. She had laid aside her knitting,and coming across the room placed her hand lightly on her husband'sshoulder.

  Master Lepage made a grimace, moved a little in his chair, and smiledgood-humouredly at her.

  'Ah! my dear, you are the best of women,' he said.

  'Then why will you not oblige me?'

  Lepage pressed his lips together and put up his eyebrows.

  'There are points,' he said, 'on which compliance would be a meremanifestation of weakness. We will not discuss the situation. Aboutthose small matters upon which we do not, unfortunately, quite agree,it is wise to maintain silence. There are your three sons--an escortworthy of a Roman matron! Be contented, then. I remain at home.'

  Susan Lepage turned away, and calling to Eliza bade her clear the table.

  'Indeed, is it worth while? It will be breakfast time directly,'replied Eliza, who was still in a bad temper at Antony having been latefor supper.

  Susan Lepage looked up at the cuckoo clock in the corner.

  'It is late,' she said. 'Come, come, Peter, we will go upstairs; it islong past your bedtime.'

  But the boy did not want to go to bed. He felt a little disturbed andunhappy, and wanted Lepage more than ever to go with the rest of thefamily on Sunday to church at Nullepart. So he rubbed his black headagainst his father's shoulder coaxingly:--

  'Mother wants you to go, and we all want it. Do please go with us tothe church on Sunday.'

  Master Lepage took the child and stood him down on the floor in frontof him.

  'Go to bed, when you are told to,' he said. 'Obedience was a virtuegreatly prized by those grand old Romans.'

  'GO TO BED WHEN YOU ARE TOLD.' _Page 34._]

  'Out of the mouth of babes--' murmured Susan Lepage, gently.

  For some reason this observation appeared to incense her husband.

  'Ten thousand plagues!' he burst out vehemently. 'Twenty thousandcut-throat Prussians! This is a conspiracy. Can I not stay at home whenI please? Can I not sit peaceably in my own kitchen, without cabals andflagrant acts of insubordination? The rights of a husband and fatherare supreme and without limit, I tell you--read the domestic history ofthe ancient Romans.'

  Susan Lepage waited till her husband had finished speaking; and thentaking poor, frightened, little Peter by the hand, she said calmly:--

  'Do not trouble your father any more, my child. He has his reasons forremaining at home, and doubtless they are good ones.'

  Perhaps it was a dream--for Peter was very tired and sleepy, and itcame to him when he was snugly tucked up in his little bed, just beforehis mother put out the candle and left him alone with a faint glimmerof starlight coming in at the uncurtained window at the end of the room.Perhaps it was a dream; but certainly he seemed to hear Master Lepage'svoice saying softly:--

  'Forgive me, my wife. I was over hasty. Your path appears to lie in onedirection and mine in another, at present; but let us both be tolerant.Who knows but that they may yet meet in the end!'

  Then someone stooped down over the little boy's bed and kissed him.Yes, it must have been his father, for on his forehead he felt therough scrape of a thick moustache.