The Peterkin Papers | Page 9

the ham. But the ham turned out to be a
very remarkable one. The fat and the lean came in separate slices,-first
one of lean, than one of fat, then two slices of lean, and so on. Mr.
Peterkin began as usual by helping the children first, according to their
age. Now Agamemnon, who liked lean, got a fat slice; and Elizabeth
Eliza, who preferred fat, had a lean slice. Solomon John, who could eat
nothing but lean, was helped to fat, and so on. Nobody had what he
could eat.
It was a rule of the Peterkin family, that no one should eat any of the
vegetables without some of the meat; so now, although the children
saw upon their plates apple-sauce and squash and tomato and sweet
potato and sour potato, not one of them could eat a mouthful, because
not one was satisfied with the meat. Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin, however,
liked both fat and lean, and were making a very good meal, when they
looked up and saw the children all sitting eating nothing, and looking
dissatisfied into their plates.
"What is the matter now?" said Mr. Peterkin.
But the children were taught not to speak at table. Agamemnon,
however, made a sign of disgust at his fat, and Elizabeth Eliza at her
lean, and so on, and they presently discovered what was the difficulty.
"What shall be done now?" said Mrs. Peterkin.

They all sat and thought for a little while.
At last said Mrs. Peterkin, rather uncertainly, "Suppose we ask the lady
from Philadelphia what is best to be done."
But Mr. Peterkin said he didn't like to go to her for everything; let the
children try and eat their dinner as it was.
And they all tried, but they couldn't. "Very well, then." said Mr.
Peterkin, "let them go and ask the lady from Philadelphia."
"All of us?" cried one of the little boys, in the excitement of the
moment.
"Yes," said Mrs. Peterkin, "only put on your india-rubber boots." And
they hurried out of the house.
The lady from Philadelphia was just going in to her dinner; but she
kindly stopped in the entry to hear what the trouble was. Agamemnon
and Elizabeth Eliza told her all the difficulty, and the lady from
Philadelphia said, "But why don't you give the slices of fat to those
who like the fat, and the slices of lean to those who like the lean?"
They looked at one another. Agamemnon looked at Elizabeth Eliza,
and Solomon John looked at the little boys. "Why didn't we think of
that?" said they, and ran home to tell their mother.
WHY THE PETERKINS HAD A LATE DINNER. THE trouble was
in the dumb-waiter. All had seated themselves at the dinner-table, and
Amanda had gone to take out the dinner she had sent up from the
kitchen on the dumb-waiter. But something was the matter; she could
not pull it up. There was the dinner, but she could not reach it. All the
family, in turn, went and tried; all pulled together, in vain;the dinner
could not be stirred.
"No dinner!" exclaimed Agamemnon.
"I am quite hungry," said Solomon John.

At last Mr. Peterkin said, "I am not proud. I am willing to dine in the
kitchen."
This room was below the dining-room. All consented to this. Each one
went down, taking a napkin.
The cook laid the kitchen table, put on it her best table-cloth, and the
family sat down. Amanda went to the dumb-waiter for the dinner, but
she could not move it down.
The family were all in dismay. There was the dinner, half-way between
the kitchen and dining-room, and there were they all hungry to eat it!
"What is there for dinner?" asked Mr. Peterkin.
"Roast turkey," said Mrs. Peterkin.
Mr. Peterkin lifted his eyes to the ceiling.
"Squash, tomato, potato, and sweet potato," Mrs. Peterkin continued.
"Sweet potato!" exclaimed both the little boys.
"I am very glad now that I did not have cranberry," said Mrs. Peterkin,
anxious to find a bright point.
"Let us sit down and think about it," said Mr. Peterkin.
"I have an idea," said Agamemnon, after a while.
"Let us hear it," said Mr. Peterkin. "Let each one speak his mind."
"The turkey," said Agamemnon, "must be just above the kitchen door.
If I had a ladder and an axe, I could cut away the plastering and reach
it."
"That is a great idea," said Mrs. Peterkin.
"If you think you could do it," said Mr. Peterkin.

"Would it not be better to have a carpenter?" asked Elizabeth Eliza.
"A carpenter might have a ladder and an axe, and I think we have
neither," said Mrs. Peterkin.
"A carpenter! A carpenter!" exclaimed the rest.
It was decided that Mr. Peterkin, Solomon John,