Pearl and Periwinkle | Page 8

said Periwinkle when they were started on their way home, "there's one thing I want you to notice, Smith called me Peri and from now on that's my name. Periwinkle sounds like a sissy. There was once a great man named Perry. Will you remember, Pearl?"
"Yes, Periwinkle," replied his sister absent-mindedly, "but don't you love the story he told us?"
"It was beautiful," replied her brother, "and I think it's splendid to try to do good because Jesus loved people so, and because Joe Smith loves Him too."
CHAPTER IV
THE CLAN
Preparations for the "big dinner" to which all the Maises had been invited and to which, knowing the good treat which was in store, they had been eagerly looking forward, were about complete. This dinner was to be held at Miss Hetty's home, as a birthday celebration in honor of the "clan leader," as the minister's son had designated that worthy man. Jeoffrey Maise was the twin brother of the deceased owner of the famous pig and it was he who had always maintained the bloodless but bitter feud with the greatest fervor. It was always his eloquence and burning hatred that rekindled the flame when the blaze of enmity showed any signs of abating.
He had now reached his sixty-fifth year and to do him honor Aunt Hetty assisted by a bevy of rosy-cheeked nieces and cousins, had brewed and baked and stewed one hot morning in late August. Altogether eight families of Maises, arrayed in their best, sallied out to the white-gabled home of their spinster relative. Not only were they prompted to attend because of the prospect of revelling in the contents of Miss Hetty's famous kitchen, but they would also have the opportunity of meeting the "circus children."
Pearl and Periwinkle had up to this time met only a few of their mother's relatives, but on this day they submitted to a deluge of kisses, questions, stares, and advances that wellnigh overwhelmed them, but which they nevertheless met with commendable equanimity. On the whole their aunts and great-aunts, uncles and great-uncles, cousins and near-cousins were better pleased with the children than perhaps the children were with them. The common agreement was that Myra's boy and girl were exceptionally pretty, bright, and not at all ill-mannered; although they perhaps lacked the shyness of their village cousins.
When dinner at last was over, the big living room became the scene of an important family council. A vivacious girl of sixteen clad in a smart white linen frock with shoes to match, took her young cousins in charge, expecting to entertain them, while their elders were engaged in a discussion that would in no way likely be of interest to young minds. She informed them that she was the only child of Eldon Maise and how she spent her winters in a fashionable boarding school, only coming to the country in summer to spend her vacation. Eldon Maise, as Peri knew, was the rich man of the "clan." But the lively prattle of his sister and their dainty cousin on topics of interests common only to girls, bored him and he soon found himself becoming interested in the conversation of his elders.
"You say Jim Grey's son-in-law is running for postmaster?" the guest of honor was asking.
"So I hear," replied his nephew Eldon in his cold, quiet way.
"You don't intend to sign his petition, Eldon?" demanded the old man, his suspicion aroused by the matter-of-fact answer of his nephew.
"Oh, business is business, Uncle," retorted the younger man, rather abruptly. "I can't afford to provoke the illwill of the Greys. If Holner comes to me, I dare say I shall sign his paper."
"And you a son of your father!" cried Jeoffrey Maise, much aroused by this apparent defection from a family duty. "You to go back on us and help the other side!"
"Oh, Uncle," replied his broader-minded nephew in an even tone, "that little thing occurred so long ago. We aren't living in the Kentucky hills, you know. Family feuds are not in fashion in this state. I'm sure I don't care much if you want to keep up the old grudge, but I don't want it to interfere with my business. It's been damaging enough already."
An older brother of Hetty and Eldon drew his pipe slowly from his mouth and looked impressively upon the company. Jim Maise had never received the "larnin" of which the younger members of the family boasted, but he had what he himself fondly called "hoss sense." At any rate he was always listened to attentively as befitted an eldest son.
"Wall," he drawled, "I reckon this here post-office affair don't come too late for us to get even with some of the things the Greys have done to us. Only it don't strike near enough home. Holner ain't nothing but a