beyond the gates of Plumfield in spite of the rules. Mr. Bhaer put a
stop to some of his speculations, and tried to give him a better idea
of business talent than mere sharpness in overreaching his
neighbors. Now and then Jack made a bad bargain, and felt worse
about it than about any failure in lessons or conduct, and took his
revenge on the next innocent customer who came along. His
account-book was a curiosity; and his quickness at figures quite
remarkable. Mr. Bhaer praised him for this, and tried to make his
sense of honesty and honor as quick; and, by and by, when Jack
found that he could not get on without these virtues, he owned that
his teacher was right.
Cricket and football the boys had of course; but, after the stirring
accounts of these games in the immortal “Tom Brown at Rugby,”
no feeble female pen may venture to do more than respectfully
allude to them.
Emil spent his holidays on the river or the pond, and drilled the
elder lads for a race with certain town boys, who now and then
invaded their territory. The race duly came off, but as it ended in a
general shipwreck, it was not mentioned in public; and the
Commodore had serious thoughts of retiring to a desert island, so
disgusted was he with his kind for a time. No desert island being
convenient, he was forced to remain among his friends, and found
consolation in building a boat-house.
The little girls indulged in the usual plays of their age, improving
upon them somewhat as their lively fancies suggested. The chief
and most absorbing play was called “Mrs. Shakespeare Smith;” the
name was provided by Aunt Jo, but the trials of the poor lady were
quite original. Daisy was Mrs. S. S., and Nan by turns her daughter
or a neighbor, Mrs. Giddygaddy.
No pen can describe the adventures of these ladies, for in one short
afternoon their family was the scene of births, marriages, deaths,
floods, earthquakes, tea-parties, and balloon ascensions. Millions
of miles did these energetic women travel, dressed in hats and
habits never seen before by mortal eye, perched on the bed, driving
the posts like mettlesome steeds, and bouncing up and down till
their heads spun. Fits and fires were the pet afflictions, with a
general massacre now and then by way of change. Nan was never
tired of inventing fresh combinations, and Daisy followed her
leader with blind admiration. Poor Teddy was a frequent victim,
and was often rescued from real danger, for the excited ladies were
apt to forget that he was not of the same stuff their longsuffering
dolls. Once he was shut into the closet for a dungeon, and
forgotten by the girls, who ran off to some out-of-door game.
Another time he was half drowned in the bath-tub, playing be a
“cunning little whale.” And, worst of all, he was cut down just in
time after being hung up for a robber.
But the institution most patronized by all was the Club. It had no
other name, and it needed none, being the only one in the
neighborhood. The elder lads got it up, and the younger were
occasionally admitted if they behaved well. Tommy and Demi
were honorary members, but were always obliged to retire
unpleasantly early, owing to circumstances over which they had no
control. The proceedings of this club were somewhat peculiar, for
it met at all sorts of places and hours, had all manner of queer
ceremonies and amusements, and now and then was broken up
tempestuously, only to be re-established, however, on a firmer
basis.
Rainy evenings the members met in the schoolroom, and passed
the time in games: chess, morris, backgammon, fencing matches,
recitations, debates, or dramatic performances of a darkly tragical
nature. In summer the barn was the rendezvous, and what went on
there no uninitiated mortal knows. On sultry evenings the Club
adjourned to the brook for aquatic exercises, and the members sat
about in airy attire, frog-like and cool. On such occasions the
speeches were unusually eloquent, quite flowing, as one might say;
and if any orator’s remarks displeased the audience, cold water was