The Last of the Peterkins
XI.
CARRIE'S THREE WISHES.
Carrie Fraser was a great trouble to her mother, because she was alwayswishing for something she had not got.
"The other girls always have things that I don't," she complained to hermother. Her mother tried to explain to Carrie that she had a great manythings the other girls didn't have.
"But they are not always wishing for my things, just as I wish fortheirs."
"That is because they are not such 'teasers' as you are," her motherwould reply. "You do not hear them from morning till night teasing forthings they have not got."
Another thing in Carrie troubled her mother very much. She used agreat many extravagant phrases. She was not satisfied with saying even"perfectly lovely," "splendid," "excruciatingly jolly." Her mother mighthave permitted these terms, and was used to hearing the other girls usethem; but Carrie got hold of the strangest expressions and phrases, I amafraid to put them into this story; for every boy and girl is perhapsalready too familiar with such, and I might only spread the use of them.
I will mention that "bang-up" and "bumptious," and that class ofexpressions were her favorites, and the best-educated boy or girl willbe able to imagine the rest. This story will show how a careless use ofwords brought Carrie to grief, and taught her a severe lesson.
One day, as usual, she had been complaining, and wishing she could haveeverything she wanted. Her mother said: "You remember the old story ofthe old couple who had their three wishes granted, and how they nevergot any good from it."
"But that was because they acted like such geese," exclaimed Carrie. "Icould never have been so elephantinely idiotic! First, they wasted onewish, for a black pudding."
"That is a sausage," said her mother.
"Yes, they asked for a common, every-day sausage to come down thechimney; then they got into a fight, and wished it would settle on oneof their noses; and then they had to waste their last wish, by wishingit off again! It is too bad to have such luck come to such out-and-outidiots."
Mrs. Fraser was just setting out for the village street, to order thedinner. The Governor was expected to pass through the place, and was tobe met at the Town Hall. Jimmy, the only son in the family, had gone offto see the show.
"Now, if he were a real, genuine governor," said Carrie, "like a princein a fairytale, you would go and beseech him to grant your wishes. Youwould fall on your knees, or something, and he would beg you to rise,and your lovely daughter should have all that she wished."
"I am afraid you are very foolish," sighed Mrs. Fraser; "but I will seethe Governor. Perhaps he can advise what is best."
It seemed to Carrie as if her mother were gone a great while. "She mighthave got six dinners!" she exclaimed to herself. "How tiresome! I wish Ihad gone down myself, anyway. All the girls and boys have gone, and Imight have seen the Governor."
But she passed the time in rocking backward and forward in arocking-chair; for to her other faults Carrie added that of laziness,and when the other girls had gone down town, and had urged her to gowith them, she had been quite too lazy to go for her hat or to hunt upher boot button-hook.
"It seems as if Jimmy might have come back to tell about things," shewent on. "Oh dear me! if I had only a chariot and four to go down with,and somebody to dress me and find my boots and my hat and my gloves,then it would have been worth while to go. I mean to make out a list ofwishes, in case somebody should grant me the power to have them."
She took out a little blank-book from her pocket, and began to writedown:--
"1. A chariot and four, man to drive, striped afghan, etc.
"2. Maid to find and put on hat, boots, etc.
"3. Plenty of hats, boots, and gloves for the maid to put on, and sothat they could be found when wanted."
"That would be bully!" said Carrie, interrupting herself. "If I hadgloves in every drawer and on every shelf, I should not have to belooking for them. I might have a hat on every peg in the house exceptwhat Jimmy uses. I might have a sack over the back of every chair, andgloves in the pockets of each. The boots could be in each corner of theroom and on all the top shelves. But boot-hooks! there's the stunner!Where could one find boot-buttoners enough? They do get out of the wayso! I should have six in every drawer, one in each pocket, half a dozenin Mamma's basket, a row on the mantelpiece--on all the mantelpieces.Then perhaps I could do without a maid; at least, save her up till Igrow older. Let's see. That makes three wishes. They generally havethree. If I strike out the maid, I can think of something else. SupposeI say something to eat, then. Chocolate creams! I never had enough yet."
At this moment Mrs. Fraser returned, looking quite heated andbreathless. She had to fling herself into a chair by the window torecover strength enough to speak, and then her words came out in gasps.
Carrie did leave her rocking-chair and tried fanning her mother, for shesaw she had something to say.
"What is it? What have you seen? Have you got something slam-bang forme? Is the Governor coming here? Couldn't you raise any dinner?"
Carrie's questions came out so fast that her mother never could haveanswered them, even with the breath of a Corliss engine; much less,panting as she was now.
"Yes, I saw him; I managed to see him," she gasped out. "The guns werefiring, the cannon were booming, the bells were ringing----"
"Oh! I dare say! I dare say!" cried Carrie, eager to hear more. "I couldhear them up here. That was not worth going to town for. What did theGovernor say?"
"My dear! my dear!" panted Mrs. Fraser, "he said you could have yourthree wishes."
"What! The chariot and four (that means horses), the maid, and theboot-hooks,--no, the maid was scratched out,--not the chocolates?" askedCarrie, in wonder.
"No, no! I don't know what you mean!" said Mrs. Fraser; "but you canhave three wishes; and I have hurried home, for they are to be told asthe clock strikes twelve,--one to-day, one to-morrow, one the nextday,--the moment the clock strikes, and I am only just in time. You areto wish, and you will have just what you wish."
Both Carrie and her mother looked at the clock. The hand was justapproaching twelve. Carrie could hear a little "click" that always camefrom inside the clock before it struck.
"I have written out my wishes," she hurried to say; "but I don't wantthe chariot yet, because everybody is coming back from town. And I don'twant any more hats and boots just now. But, oh! I do want some chocolatecreams, and I wish this room was 'chock full of them.'"
As she spoke the clock struck; and when it stopped she could speak nomore, for the room was as full of chocolate creams as it could hold.They came rattling down upon her head, filling in all the crannies ofthe room. They crowded into her half-open mouth; they filled herclutching hands. Luckily, Mrs. Fraser was sitting near the open window,and the chocolate creams pushed her forward upon the sill. There weretwo windows looking upon the piazza. One was made of glass doors thatwere shut; the other, fortunately, was quite low; and Mrs. Fraser seatedherself on the edge, and succeeded in passing her feet over to the otherside, a torrent of chocolate creams following her as she came. She thenturned to see if she could help Carrie. Carrie was trying to eat her waytoward the window, and stretched out her arms to her mother, who seizedher, and with all her strength pulled her through the window.
"They are bully!" exclaimed Carrie, as soon as she was free. "They arethe freshest I ever ate. Golumptious!"
"Oh, Carrie," said her mother, mournfully, "how can you use suchexpressions now, when you have wasted your opportunity in such anextravagant wish?"
"What! A whole roomful of chocolate creams do you consider a waste?"exclaimed Carrie. "Why, we shall be envied of all our neighbors; and,Mamma, you have been sighing over our expenses, and wishing that Jimmyand I could support you. Do not you see that we can make our fortunewith chocolate creams? First, let us eat all we want before tellinganybody; then let us give some to choice friends, and we will sell therest."
All the time she was talking Carrie was putting in her hand forchoco
late creams and cramming one after another. Mrs. Fraser, too, didnot refuse to taste them. How could they ever get into the parlor again,unless they were eaten up?
"I am sure we can make quite a fortune," Carrie went on. "As soon asJimmy comes home we can calculate how much it will be. The last time Iwas in Boston I gave fifteen cents for a quarter of a pound, and therewere just thirteen chocolate creams. Now, see. In my two hands I canhold fourteen; now, how many times that do you suppose there are in theroom?"
Mrs. Fraser could not think. Carrie was triumphant.
"Jimmy will know how to calculate, for he knows how many feet and inchesthere are in the room. If not, he can measure by the piazza; and we canrow the chocolate creams out, and see how many go to a foot, and then wecan easily find out. Of course, we shall sell them cheaper than they doin Boston, and so there will be a rush for them. It will be bully!"
"I am glad we happened to take this rocking-chair out on the piazza thismorning," said Mrs. Fraser, languidly seating herself. "I don't see howwe shall ever get into the parlor again."
"Jimmy and I will eat our way in fast enough," said Carrie, laughing;and Jimmy at that moment appeared with two boy friends, whom he hadbrought home to dinner.
They were all delighted when they understood the situation, and had sooneaten a little place by the window, inside the room.
"I quite forgot to buy any dinner," exclaimed Mrs. Fraser, starting up."I meant to have ordered a leg of mutton as I went down, and now it istoo late; and eggs for a pudding. Jimmy will have to go down----"
"Oh, the chocolate creams will do!" exclaimed Carrie. "Don't you see,there's our first saving, and my wish does not turn out so extravagant,after all. The boys will be glad to have chocolate creams for dinner,I'm sure."
The boys all said they would, as far as they could, when their mouthswere so full.
"We must put out an advertisement," said Carrie, at last, as soon as shecould stop to speak: "'Chocolate creams sold cheap!' I guess we won'tgive any away. We may as well make all we can. It will be geminy!Suppose we look up some boxes and baskets, Jimmy, to sell them in; andyou boys can go to the gate and tell people there are chocolate creamsfor sale."
But all the boxes and baskets were soon filled, and only a little spacemade in the room. Jimmy pulled out the other rocking-chair that Carriehad been sitting in, and she rested herself for a while.
"I declare, I never thought before I could eat enough chocolate creams;but they are a trifle cloying."
"My dear," said Mrs. Fraser, "if you had not said 'chock full;' if youhad said 'a great many,' or 'a trunkful,' or something of that sort."
"But I meant 'chock full,'" insisted Carrie.
"I did not mean quite up to the ceiling. I didn't suppose that was what'chock' meant. Now we know."
A great shouting was heard. All the boys of the town were gathering, andquite a crowd of people seemed coming near.
Mrs. Fraser was a widow, and there was no man in the house. Jimmy wasthe nearest approach to a man that she could depend upon; and here hewas, leading a band of boys! She sent one of the boys she knew the bestfor Mr. Stetson, the neighboring policeman, who came quickly, havingalready seen the crowd of boys flocking to the house.
Carrie was trying to sell off her boxes for fifteen, ten, even fivecents; but the crowd could not be easily appeased, for the boys couldsee across the windows the chocolate creams closely packed. "The room ischock full!" they exclaimed.
Mr. Stetson examined the premises. "You'll find it hard work to getthem chocolates out in a week, even if you set all the boys on them. I'dadvise letting them in one by one to fill their pockets, each to paya cent."
Even Carrie assented to this, and a line was formed, and boys let inthrough the window. They ate a way to the door that led into the entry,so that it could be opened and the room could be entered that way. Theboys now went in at the window and came out at the door, eating as theywent and filling their pockets. Carrie could not but sigh at thought ofthe Boston chocolates, more than a cent apiece! But the boys ate, andthen the girls came and ate; but with night all had to leave, at last.It was possible to shut the window and lock it, and shut the door forthe night, after they had gone.
"I don't see why the chocolates should not stay on there weeks andweeks," said Carrie to her mother. "Of course, they won't be so fresh,day after day; but they will be fresher than some in the shops. I'mawfully tired of eating them now, and feel as if I never wanted to seea chocolate cream again; but I suppose I shall feel different after anight's sleep, and I think Mr. Stetson is wrong in advising us to sellthem so low."
Mrs. Fraser suggested she should like to go in the parlor to sit.
"But to-morrow is the day of the picnic," said Carrie, "and we shall beout-of-doors anyhow. I will take chocolate creams for my share. But,dear me! my dress is on the sofa,--my best dress. You were putting theruffles in!"
"I told you, my dear, one of the last things, to take it upstairs," saidMrs. Fraser.
"And there it is, in the furthest corner of the room," exclaimed Carrie,"with all those chocolates scrouching on it. I'll tell you. I'll get BenSykes in early. He eats faster than any of the other boys, and he shalleat up toward my dress. He made a great hole in the chocolates thisafternoon. I will have him come in early, and we don't go to the picnictill after twelve o'clock."
"And at twelve o'clock you have your second wish," said Mrs. Fraser.
"Yes, Mamma," said Carrie; "and I have already decided what it shallbe,--a chariot and four. It will come just in time to take me to thepicnic."
"Oh, my dear Carrie," said her mother, "do think what you are planning!Where would you keep your chariot and the four horses?"
"Oh! there will be a man to take care of them," said Carrie; "but I willthink about it all night carefully----"
At that very moment she went to sleep.
The next morning early, Carrie was downstairs. She found she could eata few more chocolate creams, and Jimmy was in the same condition. Sheproposed to him her plan of keeping the chocolates still for sale, buteating a way to the sofa in the corner, to her best dress.
Ben Sykes came early, and a few of the other boys. The rest were kept athome, because it turned out they had eaten too many and their parentswould not let them come.
A good many of the older people came with baskets and boxes, and boughtsome to carry away, they were so delicious and fresh.
Meanwhile Ben Sykes was eating his way toward the corner. It was veryhard making any passage, for as fast as he ate out a place others cametumbling in from the top. Carrie and Jimmy invented "a kind of a tunnel"of chairs and ironing-boards, to keep open the passage; and other boyshelped eat, as they were not expected to pay.
But the morning passed on. Mrs. Fraser tried to persuade Carrie to wearanother dress; but she had set her mind on this. She had a broad bluesash to wear with it, and the sash would not go with any other dress.
She watched the clock, she watched Ben; she went in under theironing-boards, to help him eat, although she had begun to loathe thetaste of the chocolate creams.
Ben was splendid. He seemed to enjoy more the more he ate. Carriewatched him, as he licked them and ate with glowing eyes.
"Oh, Ben," Carrie suddenly exclaimed, "you can't seem to eat them fastenough. I wish your throat were as long as from one end of this room tothe other."
At this moment the clock was striking.
Carrie was ready to scream out her second wish; but she felt herselfpushed in a strange way. Ben was on all fours in front of her, and nowhe pushed her back, back. His neck was so long that while his head wasstill among the chocolates, at the far corner of the room, his feet werenow out of the door.
Carrie stood speechless. She had lost her wish by her foolishexclamation. The faithful Ben, meanwhile, was flinging something throughthe opening. It was her dress, and she hurried away to put it on.
When she came down, everybody was looking at Ben. At first he enjoyedhis long neck very much. He could stand on the door
step and put his headfar out up in the cherry trees and nip off cherries, which pleased boththe boys and himself.
He enjoyed his long neck very much.]
Instead of a chariot and four, Carrie went off in an open wagon, withthe rest of the girls. It made her feel so to see Ben, with his longneck, that she got her mother's permission to spend the night with thefriend in whose grounds the picnic was to be held.
She carried baskets of chocolate creams, and she found numbers of thegirls, who had not eaten any, who were delighted with them, and promisedto come the next day, to buy and carry away any amount of them. Shebegan to grow more cheerful, though she felt no appetite, and insteadof eating everything, as she always did at picnics, she could not eventouch Mattie Somers's cream-pie nor Julia Dale's doughnuts. She stayedas late as she could at her friend Mattie's; but she felt she must gethome in time for her third wish, at twelve o'clock.
Would it be necessary for her to wish that Ben Sykes's neck should bemade shorter? She hoped she might find that it had grown shorter in thenight; then she could do as she pleased about her third wish.
She still clung to the desire for the chariot and four. If she had it,she and her mother and Jimmy could get into it and drive far away fromeverybody,--from Ben Sykes and his long neck, if he still had it,--andnever see any of them any more. Still, she would like to show thechariot and four to her friends; and perhaps Ben Sykes would not mindhis long neck, and would be glad to keep it and earn money by showinghimself at a circus.
So she reached home in the middle of the morning, and found the wholeSykes family there, and Ben, still with his long neck. It seems it hadgiven him great trouble in the night. He had to sleep with his head inthe opposite house, because there was not room enough on one floor athome. Mrs. Sykes had not slept a wink, and her husband had been upwatching, to see that nobody stepped on Ben's neck. Ben himself appearedin good spirits; but was glad to sit in a high room, where he couldsupport his head.
Carrie suggested her plan that Ben should exhibit himself. He, no doubt,could earn a large sum. But his mother broke out against this. He nevercould earn enough to pay for what he ate, now his throat was so long.Even before this he could swallow more oatmeal than all the rest of thefamily put together, and she was sure that now even Mr. Barnum himselfcould not supply him with food enough. Then she burst into a flood oftears, and said she had always hoped Ben would be her stay and support;and now he could never sleep at home, and everybody looking after himwhen he went out, and the breakfast he had eaten that very morning wasenough for six peoples' dinners.
They were all in the parlor, where the chocolate creams were partiallycleared away. They were in a serried mass on two sides of the room,meeting near the centre, with the underground passage, through which Benhad worked his way to Carrie's dress. Mrs. Fraser had organized a bandto fill pasteboard boxes, which she had obtained from the village, andshe and her friends were filling them, to send away to be sold, as allthe inhabitants of the town were now glutted with chocolate creams.
At this moment Carrie heard a click in the clock. She looked at hermother, and as the clock struck she said steadily, "I wish that Ben'sneck was all right again."
Nobody heard her, for at that moment Ben Sykes started up, saying: "I'mall right, and I have had enough. Come along home!" And he dragged hisfamily away with him.
Carrie fell into her mother's arms. "I'll never say 'chock full' again!"she cried; "and I'll always be satisfied with what I have got, for I cannever forget what I suffered in seeing Ben's long neck!"