Whilomville Stories

n to lunch, I have enough on my mind-and that without bein' bothered with you. The kitchen is no place for little boys, anyhow. Run away, a

o have a picnic," he

ha

goin' to ha

could have led one to suppose that if the projectors did not turn ou

nutes of futile skirmishing, he had at least succeeded in i

and lots of boys an

every

Willie Dalzel an' Dan Earl an' Ella Earl an' Wolcott Margate an' Reeves Margate an' Walter Phelps an' Homer Phelps an' Minnie Phelps an'-oh-lot

em," said the

ence. At last he murmured, "I-now

mazement that Jimmie should still be in the kitchen. "Who's s

ed Jimmie, i

ou go, then? Nobod

ow-each fellow has got to ta

eh? Well, you may as well take yourself off without more words. What with your mother bein' away on a visit, an

people in this house seem to think there's 'bout a thousand cooks in this kitchen.

nothing, but

cs. Nobody ever seems to think of the work I have to do. Nobody ever seems to thin

e loi

ard tell of no picnics right on top of your mother bein' away on a vis

ll and began to weep. She stared at him scornfull

in'," sob

"Stop that blubberin', now. Stop it! This kitchen ain't no place fer it. Stop it!... V

ars. "You never said," he sputtered-"y

re a-cryin' an' a-blubberin' an' a-bleatin' round? Enough to drive

I've stopped cryin'. I ain't

g, she seized a loaf of bread and, wielding a knife, she cut from this loaf four slices, each of which was as big as a six-shilling novel. She profligately spread them with butter, and jabbing the point of her knife into the salmon-tin, sh

it." She thrust the sandwiches into a small pail and jammed on the lid. Jimmie was ready for the

tall, pillarlike hemlocks and pines that grew on a rocky knoll at the lake shore. His heart was very light as he sped, swinging his pail. But a few minutes previously his

actually had two camp-fires! Two camp-fires! At one of them Mrs. Earl was making something-chocolate, no doubt-and at the other a young lady in white duck and a sailor hat was dropping eggs into boiling wate

de!" The children had divided themselves into two bands for some purpose of play. The others of Homer Phelps's party lou

any weake

, and looking hard, said, "Wh

mewhat uneasily, "G

ieks of derision. "Got his lunch in it! In a pail!" She ran screaming to her

ct of childish society that they all immediately moved away from him. In a moment he had been made a social leper. All old intimacies were flung into the lake, so to speak. They dared not compromise

as defiantly as he was able, "Well, I can have it in a pail if I want to." This statemen

T'S GOT HIS PIC

on was in no way similar. This was a social affair, with grown people on all sides. It would be sweet to catch the Margate twins, for instance, and hammer th

dren! Everything's ready!" They scampered away, glancing ba

lly from some of those damnable little girls. Still, luxuries beyond all dreaming were heaped on that cloth. One could not forget them. Perhaps if he crept up modestly, and was

ith what delightful expectations he had raced to this grove, and self-pity ov

ked at him, and then spoke to her sister, Mrs. Ea

e, come to the picnic! Why don't you come to the pi

urst from many of the children. "He's got his

mamma, he's got it in that pail! See! I

dy. "They are spoiling that boy's whole day, breaking his h

ously. "Somehow these things arrange themselves. If

at least," said

He turned his sad gaze towards the lake. The bit of water seen through the shadows seemed perpendicular, a slate-colored wall. He heard a nois

ne needles, she made brief explanation. "They're rather crowded, you see, over there. I

e." The ingenuous emphasis made it appear that the fact of his liking to have h

s that lake?

. "Oh, it's almost twenty miles long, an' in one place it's almost four miles wide! an' it's de

out on it

got a boat," he said, eying her

onder. "Oh, has he?" she cried, as if she n

imes he takes me out in her, too; an' once he took me fishin', an' we had sandwiches, ple

eated, and he enthusiastically resumed his narrative: "An' after, he let me throw the bottles in the wate

e pail; he was absorbed in this communion with a beau

haps you would like some of those sandwiches. I made them. Do

omed for a moment because the pail was recalled to hi

" said his goddess. "I am very proud of it." He

re than she did anybody at the picnic, to say the least. This was proved by the fact that she had flung aside

live?" he as

ay from here!

as put very bluntly

he answere

nd furtively up at her face. It was evident that he was somew

time yet!" said

I-I should lik

of it now, because it's such a long time; and-I wouldn't

gun, an' lots an' lots of books 'bout elephants an' tigers, an' lots an' lots of ice-cream an' pie an'-caramels." As before, she was impressed; he could

y!" sh

well buried. It seemed to him that months elapsed as he dwelt

rove. The children wished to resume their jeering, for Jimmie still gripped his pail, but t

etending that he was a train of cars, or without some mumming device of childhood. But now he behaved with dignity. He made no more noise than a little mouse. He escor

te all day long, and knowing every lesson to perfection, and-everything. And then supposing that a boy should sass her. Jimmie painted himself waylaying that boy on the homeward

e feet tall, waving her fist. "An' so that's what I took trouble for, is it? So's you could bring it back? So's you could bring it back?" He skulked towards the house like a marauding bushranger

, where you goin

irled the lid from the pail and dashed its contents beneath a heap of blankets. Then

, what you doin'

g it. "Nothin'," he sa

id, sharply, as she rel

stable, when he heard a shout from Peter Wa

Oh,

ha

me

the door of the stable, a

an' brade doin' unne

e nothin' to do with it," a

an' brade unner dese yer blankups, I don' go an' think dese yer ho'ses er yer pop's put 'em. I