“But he is the locksmith!” interrupted Solomon John. “We have no key!” said Elizabeth Eliza; “if you have locked up the locksmith we can never get in.” The policeman looked from one to the other, smiling slightly when he understood the case. “The locksmith!” he exclaimed; “he is a new fellow, and I did not recognize him, and arrested him! Very well, I will go and let him out, that he may let you in!” and he hurried away, surprising the Peterkin family with what seemed like insulting screams of laughter. “It seems to me a more serious case than it appears to him,” said Mr. Peterkin. Mrs. Peterkin did not understand it at all. Had burglars entered the house? Did the policeman say they had taken spoons? And why did he appear so pleased? She was sure the old silver teapot was locked up in the closet of their room. Slowly the family walked towards the house, and, almost as soon as they, the policeman appeared with the released locksmith, and a few boys from the street, who happened to be out early. The locksmith was not in very good humor, and took ill the jokes of the policeman. Mr. Peterkin, fearing he might not consent to open the door, pressed into his hand a large sum of money. The door flew open; the family could go in. Amanda arrived at the same moment. There was hope of breakfast. Mrs. Peterkin staggered towards the stairs. “I shall never go to another carnival!” she exclaimed. THE PETERKINS AT THE FARM. YES, at last they had reached the seaside, after much talking and deliberation, and summer after summer the journey had been constantly postponed. But here they were at last, at the “Old Farm,” so called, where seaside attractions had been praised in all the advertisements. And here they were to meet the Sylvesters, who knew all about the place, cousins of Ann Maria Bromwick. Elizabeth Eliza was astonished not to find them there, though she had not expected Ann Maria to join them till the very next day. Their preparations had been so elaborate that at one time the whole thing had seemed hopeless; yet here they all were. Their trunks, to be sure, had not arrived; but the wagon was to be sent back for them, and, wonderful to tell, they had all their hand-baggage safe. Agamemnon had brought his Portable Electrical Machine and Apparatus, and the volumes of the Encyclopædia that might tell him how to manage it, and Solomon John had his photograph camera. The little boys had used their india-rubber boots as portmanteaux, filling them to the brim, and carrying one in each hand,--a very convenient way for travelling they considered it; but they found on arriving (when they wanted to put their boots directly on for exploration round the house), that it was somewhat inconvenient to have to begin to unpack directly, and scarcely room enough could be found for all the contents in the small chamber allotted to them.