The Peterkin papersHale, Lucretia P. (Lucretia Peabody)
General
The Peterkin papers
Hale, Lucretia P. (Lucretia Peabody)
Family life -- Juvenile fiction; Humorous stories
Peterkin ungratefully said it tasted of anything but coffee. The chemist
was not discouraged. He put in a little belladonna and atropine, some
granulated hydrogen, some potash, and a very little antimony, finishing
off with a little pure carbon. But still Mrs. Peterkin was not
satisfied.
The chemist said that all he had done ought to have taken out the
salt. The theory remained the same, although the experiment had failed.
Perhaps a little starch would have some effect. If not, that was all
the time he could give. He should like to be paid, and go. They were all
much obliged to him, and willing to give him $1.37 1/2 in gold. Gold
was now 2.69 3/4, so Mr. Peterkin found in the newspaper. This gave
Agamemnon a pretty little sum. He sat himself down to do it. But there
was the coffee! All sat and thought awhile, till Elizabeth Eliza said,
“Why don’t we go to the herb-woman?” Elizabeth Eliza was the only
daughter. She was named after her two aunts,--Elizabeth, from the sister
of her father; Eliza, from her mother’s sister. Now, the herb-woman was
an old woman who came round to sell herbs, and knew a great deal. They
all shouted with joy at the idea of asking her, and Solomon John and
the younger children agreed to go and find her too. The herb-woman
lived down at the very end of the street; so the boys put on their
india-rubber boots again, and they set off. It was a long walk through
the village, but they came at last to the herb-woman’s house, at the
foot of a high hill. They went through her little garden. Here she had
marigolds and hollyhocks, and old maids and tall sunflowers, and all
kinds of sweet-smelling herbs, so that the air was full of tansy-tea
and elder-blow. Over the porch grew a hop-vine, and a brandy-cherry
tree shaded the door, and a luxuriant cranberry-vine flung its delicious
fruit across the window. They went into a small parlor, which smelt very
spicy. All around hung little bags full of catnip, and peppermint, and
all kinds of herbs; and dried stalks hung from the ceiling; and on the
shelves were jars of rhubarb, senna, manna, and the like.
But there was no little old woman. She had gone up into the woods to
get some more wild herbs, so they all thought they would follow
her,--Elizabeth Eliza, Solomon John, and the little boys. They had to
climb up over high rocks, and in among huckleberry-bushes and black
berry-vines. But the little boys had their india-rubber boots. At last
they discovered the little old woman. They knew her by her hat. It was
steeple-crowned, without any vane. They saw her digging with her trowel
round a sassafras bush. They told her their story,---how their mother had
put salt in her coffee, and how the chemist had made it worse instead
of better, and how their mother couldn’t drink it, and wouldn’t she
come and see what she could do? And she said she would, and took up her
little old apron, with pockets all round, all filled with everlasting
and pennyroyal, and went back to her house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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