When the friends of the Pepper family found that they also was firm in their decision to continue their history no further, they brought their appeals for the details of some of those good times that made their little brown house an object less. In these appeals, the parents were as vigorous as the young people for a volume of the stories they politely told to keep their children happy in those hard days when her story-telling had changed. And also for a book of their plays and exploits, impossible to be embodied in the continued series of their history, so that all who loved the Five Little Peppers might the better study the influences that shaped their lives. Those requests were complied with. They were also realizing that the detailed account held values by which stronger light might be thrown on the family life in the little brown house. And now the pressure is brought to be of a book showing the little peppers over the ocean, recorded in Five Little Peppers midway. And the author is very glad to comply again. For foreign travels throws a wholly different side-light upon the Pepper family, so here's the book. It is in no sense to be taken as a story written by a guidebook, although the author lives in it again her repeated enjoyment of the sights and scenes which are accurately depicted. A paid-acre, if carefully studied, is rarely all that is needed as a constant companion for a traveler, while for supplementary helps and suggestions there are many valuable books along the same line. This volume is given up to the Peppers, and they must live their own lives and tell their own story while abroad, just as they choose. As the author has stated many times her part is simply to set down what the Peppers didn't set without trying to make them say or do anything in particular, and so over the ocean they are just as much the makers of their own history as when they first opened the door to the little brown house. Margaret Sidney End of preface, recording by Ellie, November 2009 Chapter 1 of Five Little Peppers abroad This is a LibriVox recording, where LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ellie, Five Little Peppers abroad by Margaret Sidney Chapter 1 Over the Ocean Dear me, said Polly, I don't see where ever she came be, Chesper. I've searched just everywhere for her, and she gave a little sigh and pushed up the brown rings of hair under her sailor cap. Don't worry, Polly, said Chesper with a reassuring smile. She's with Matilda, of course. Come, Polly, let's you and I have a try at the shuffleboard by ourselves, down on the lower deck. No, we can't. Said Polly, we said right for longing at her heart for the charms of a game. That is, until we found Francie, and she ran down the deck. Perhaps she's in one of the library corners, though I saw they looked all over them. How do you know she isn't with Matilda, Polly? Cried Chesper racing after, so see Polly's little blue jacket whisking ahead of him up the companion way. Because Polly stopped at the top and looked over her shoulder at him. Matilda is in her birth. She's awfully seasick. It's just to stay with Francie, and now I've lost her, and the brown hat drooped, and Polly clasped her hands tightly together. Oh no, she can't be lost, Polly, said Chesper cheerfully, as she bounced up the stairs and gained her sight. Why, she couldn't be. Well, anyway, we can't find her, Chesper, said Polly running on. It's all my fault, for I forgot and left her in the library and went with Fanny Vandenberg down to her stateroom. Oh dear me, as she sped on. Well, she's in the library now, most likely, said Chesper cheerfully, hurrying after, curled up a sleep in a corner, and the boats ran in, expecting to see Francie's yellow hat snuggled in one of the pillows. But there was no one there except a little old gentleman on one of the sofas back of the table, who held his paper upside down. His big spectacles on the end of his nose, almost tumbling off, is inaudible, leaves the motion of the steamer. Oh dear me, exclaimed Polly. Now we shall wake him up, as the tiptoe around peering in every cozy corner and behind all the tables for a glimpse of Francie's little brown gown. No danger, said Chesper, with a glance over at the old man, he is just as fast asleep as Kenby. Here, Polly, I think she's probably tucked up in here, and he hurried over to the father's side, where the sofa made a generous angle. Just then instock the tall boy, who rushed up to the little old gentleman. Here granted, wake up, and the shock is arm-smartly.  Oh dear me, cried Polly aghast, as she and Chesper whirled round. Hey, what, what? exclaimed the old gentleman, clutching his paper, and she started forward. Oh why, I haven't been asleep, Tom. Ha ha, tell that to the marines, cried Tom loudly, dancing in the region.  But give me a sovereign first. He held out his hand as he spoke. Hurry up, granted, he added impatiently. The old gentleman put his hand to his head, and then rubbed his eyes. Bustle up, cried the boy with a laugh, or else I'll run my fist into your pocket and help myself. Indeed you won't, declared the old gentleman, now sorely awake. Ha ha, laughed the boy. You see, if I won't, granted. Yet you dropped his imperious tone and waited, though impatiently, while the big pocketbook was drawn out. What do you want with money on board the boat, demanded the old gentleman. Give me a sovereign, granted, cried Tom, controlling his impatience as best he might, with many a cross-lock at the wrinkled old face under the white hair. His grandfather slowly drew out the coin, and Tom twitched it eagerly from the long-sinned fingers. I don't see how you can eat money on board the boat, repeated the old gentleman.  That's my business, and not yours.  Now she turned to her chesper. Oh, how very dreadful she gasped. Then would have given everything if she had kept still for the old gentleman rolled around and saw them for the first time. Hey, who are you, and what are you listening there for? He demanded sharply. He had little black eyes, and they now snapped in a truly dreadful way at them. We came to find a little sister, said Chesper politely, for Polly was quite beyond speaking. Sister? I don't know anything about your sister, said the old gentleman irrescably, and this room isn't a place for children I can tell you, he added, as if he owned the library and the whole ship. Chesper made no reply. When she isn't here, Polly clasped her hands again tighter than ever, and, oh Chesper, and she looked at the anchor-old face before them with pitying eyes. What they say to my grandson, Tom, and whatever he says to me is our own business, exclaimed the old gentleman in a passion, sampling the table with his clenched hand, and no one else has the right to hear it. I'm so very sorry we heard it, said Polly, the color which had gone quite from her cheek, now rushing back, and we are going right away, sir. You look much better, said the old gentleman nodding angrily, and you, boy, too, suppose you think yourself better than my Tom, but you are not, not a bit of it. And suddenly he tried to start to his feet, but lurched heavily against the table instead, Polly and Chesper rushed over to him. Lean on me, sir, said Chesper, putting both arms around him, while Polly ran to his other side, he was shaking so dreadfully. The old gentleman asked it to waive them off. Let me alone, he said feebly, I'm going after my grandson, Tom.  He's got money, he's always getting it, and I'm going to see what he's doing with it. Polly, said Chesper, you help me put him back on the sofa, there, that's it, as the old man sank feebly down against the cushers, and then I'll run and find his grandson. It was just a time when everybody seemed to be in the staterooms, out on deck in steamer chairs, so Polly sat there at the old man's head, feeling as if every minute were an hour, and he kept gurgling. Tom's a bad boy, he gets money all the time, and I'm going to see what he's doing with it. His feeble waives of his legs, they put Polly in a fright, lest she should roll off the sofa at every lurch of the steamer. Tom is coming, at last she said, putting her hand on the hot forehead.  But I don't want Tom to come, cried the old gentleman irritably, who said they wanted him to come, hey! He turned up his head and looked at her, and Polly's hand shook worse than ever, and the little snapping eyes were full on her face, and she had all she could do to keep from running out of the room, and up on deck where she could breeze freely. I'm so sorry, she managed to gasp, feeling if she didn't see something, she should surely run, does her head feel better? And she smoothed his forehead gently, just as Francie always did cry in papa's when it ached, and when she saw the Francie, then it was all she could do to keep the tears back. Where could she be, and would Jasper never come back? Just then, in rent Tom, with the great clutter, complaining noisily every step of the way, I told you you'd much better get off to your state, Tom, cried dad. He exclaimed, here I'll help you down there, and he laid a hasty hand on the feeble old arm. I think he is sick, so Polly gently. Jasper came hurrying in. Francie's all right, he had time to whisper to Polly. Oh Jasper, the color rushed into her cheek, that had turned quite white. I'm so glad. Nonsense, exclaimed Tom abruptly. It's only one of his crotchets. You don't know, he gets a plenty of them on occasion. What did you want the sovereign for? Ask the old gentleman, taking his sharp little eyes of Polly to fasten them on his grandson's face. Say, I will know. And they say no matter, retorted Tom roughly, and you ought to come down to your state room where you belong. Come, Granddad, and he tried again to lay hold of his arm. But the little old gentleman sank back and looked up at Polly again. I think I'll stay here, he said. I say, begin the boy in an embarrassed way. This is dreadfully rough on you, and then he looked away from Polly to Jasper.  Polly was busy smoozing the hot forehead under the white hair and appeared not to notice a word he said. Your grandfather really appears ill, said Jasper, and the doctor might give him something to help him. Tom burst into a short laugh and kicked his heel against the table. Ho-ho, I say you don't know him.  Only he's determined not to go to his state room where he belongs, but to kick up a row here. Very well, said Jasper Cooley, since he determined to do nothing for his relief, I shall take it upon myself to summon the doctor. He stepped to the table a bit further off and touched the electric button back of it. Here, don't do that, remonstrated Tom was bringing forward, but it was too late, as the steward who attended to calls in the library stepped in. It isn't the hour for giving out books, he began. Tom was stamping his foot impatiently and scalling at Jasper, alternately casting long inclines out the nearest pothole. It isn't books we want, said Jasper Cooley, but this old gentleman, whose head was now heavily sunk on his breast and whose cheek was quite white, was very ill and to need a doctor. Is that so? The steward leaned over and peered into the old face. Well, he doesn't look just right, and that's a fact, is he your father? Oh no, said Jasper Cooley, I don't know who he is, but too hairy for his sick, and it's the doctor at once. I'll get Dr. Jones, offering the steward to the surgeon's cabin. See what you have done, great Tom in a towering passion, kicked up a pretty mess. He cried a hundred times. Jasper made no reply, and Polly continued to stroke gently the poor head. Well, well, well exclaimed Mr. King coming in, to be sure it's very stupid in me not to think of looking in the library for both of you before. Oh dear me, bless me, and he came to a dead stop of astonishment. Father, cried Jasper, this poor man seems very ill. Oh yes, pressed Polly pitifully. He really is crime-papa, and she put her hand to see one of Mr. King's, and Jasper has sent for the doctor. And none too soon, I should say, remarked Mr. King grimly, Mr. King glanced into the old man's face, raised his feet a little higher, Jasper, put the pillow under them. There, that's it. Well, the doctor should be hurried up. He glanced quickly around. Here you boy, seeing Tom, ran as you have never run before, and tell the doctor to come quickly. There isn't any need, began Tom. Do you go? commanded Mr. King pointing to the door, and Tom went. Father, the boy is his grandson, said Jasper pointing to the sick man. Mr. King stared into Jasper's face, unable to make a reply. He is, declared Polly. Oh, crime-papa, he really is, then she burried her flashed face up against Mr. King's arm. There is no need to waste words, said Mr. King finding his tongue. There, there, Polly child, fondling her brown head. Don't feel badly. I am sure you have done all you could. To wash Jasper, he did it all. I couldn't do anything, said Polly. Oh, Polly, you did everything, protested Jasper. Yes, yes. I know. You both did. Said Mr. King. Well, here's the doctor. Thank the Lord. And then when nobody wanted them, the library seemed to be full of people, and the news sprouting out to the decks. Many of the passengers got out of their steamer chairs, and tried to swarm into the two doorways. Tom, who never knew how his son and Dr. Jones, being chiefly occupied in astonishment at finding that he obeyed a command from a perfect stranger, did not come back to the library, but kept himself with the same amazed expression on his face, idly kicking his heels in a quiet corner of the deck nearby. He never thought of such a thing as being worried over his kind father, for he couldn't remember when the old gentleman hadn't been subject to nervous attacks. But somehow, since a row, as he expressed it, had been kicked up, it was just as well to stay in the virginity and see the end of it. But he wasn't going inside. No, not he. After a while, Tom was just beginning to yawn, and to feel that no one could expect him to waste time like that, and probably his kind father was going to sleep it out on the sofa, and the stupid doctor would find that there was nothing the matter, only the old man was nervous. And I am going back to the fellows, decided Tom, shaking his long legs. Oh, here you are, got Chesper running up to him. Come quickly, sitting his arm. Hey, here, what are you about? Hot Tom at him, shaking off the hand. You must excuse me for wasting no ceremony, such as for sternly. It struck Tom that he looked very much like the old gentleman who had told him to go. Your grandfather is very ill. Something is the matter with his heart, and the doctor has sent me for you. He says he may not leave the hour. It was necessary to tell the whole of the dreadful truth, for Tom was still staring at him in defiance. End of chapter one, recording by elite December 2009. Chapter two of Five Little Papers Abroad. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org, recording by Ellie. Five Little Papers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter two, Two English Friends. I don't want you, but that the old gentleman feebly, turning his head away from Tom, and then he said he slipped tightly together, but he held to Paul his hand. You would better go out. He nodded to Tom. It excites him. The second time Tom was told to go, he stood quite still. He's my grandfather, he blurted out. Can't help it. It's Dr. Jones-Curtley. He's my patient.  Then he turned back to his work of making the sick man comfortable without taking any more notice of the boy. Tom gave a good long look at this much of his grandfather's face as he could see, then he slunk out in a day's condition, trying to make himself as small as possible. Two and a half hours afterward, hanging over the rail away from Curie's eyes, his head burred in his arms. I thought you'd like to know that your grandfather is better, said Jasper, touching the bent shoulder. Get the wave will you, called Tom kicking out his leg unmindful word-struck, and the doctor has gotten him into his state room, and he's as comfortable as he could be made. Jasper didn't add that Dr. Jones had asked him to come back, and that the old man was still insisting that Paulie should hold his hand. I heard Tom subtly switching up his head. I will go down there. His face was so drawn that Jasper started, and then looked away over the sea and did not appear to notice the clenched hand down by the boy's side. I, I, didn't know he was sick. Tom brought out the guests, and his face worked worse than ever in his efforts not to show his distress. The only thing he could do was to double up his hand tighter than ever as he tried to keep it back of him.  Oh, and Dr. Jones had said the last thing to Jasper as he rushed off was the good news to Tom. On no account let that boy see his grandfather. I won't answer for the consequences if you do. See here, Jasper tore his gaze off from the shimmering water. The doctor doesn't. Doesn't think you ought to see your grandfather now. Hey, great Tom!  He's my grandfather. I rather think he has a mind too, and he blanched off. Tom, Jasper took long steps after him. Back your pardon. This is no time for thinking of anything but your grandfather's life. Dr. Jones said that you were not to see him at present. The truth must be told. For in another moment the boy would have been off on the wings of the wind. And do you think that I will mind in the least what the beastly doctor says? Great Tom, getting redder and redder in the face, his rage was so great. Ho, no sir. The Jasper calmly, and he stood quite still and surveyed the boy before him. Neither spoke. It seemed to Jasper an age that he stood there in silence.  Let us do a bit of a turn on the deck, the Jasper suddenly, overcoming by mighty effort his repugnance of the idea. Tom shook his head and swallowed hard. Oh yes, the Jasper, summoning all the cheerfulness he could master to his aid. Come, it's the very thing to do if you really want to help your grandfather. Tom raised his head and looked at him. I never suppose the old man was sick, he said probably, and downed his head again, this time upon his hands, which were grasping the top of the chair. I don't believe you did, I said Jasper, but come Tom, let's walk around the deck. We can talk just as well meanwhile. Two or three young men with cigarettes in their mouths came sauntering up.  Tom raised his head and looked at them defiantly. Like this, cried one with a sneer in which the others joined with a curious look at Jasper. Well, come on now, said one. Yes, yes, come along, said the other. We've waited long enough for you to get back. I'm not coming, declared Tom shortly. Not coming back? Well, one of the young men said something under his press, and the first speaker turned on his heel, tossing his cigarette over the railing. No, said Tom, I'm not coming, did you hear me? I believe I had the pleasure, said the last named, as I'm not deaf. Come on, fellows. Our little boy has to go to wait on his granddaddy. Goodbye, kid. He snapped his fingers. The other two laughed irisively and sauntered off down the deck as they came. Tom shook his passion. I'd like to walk. He said, drawing a long press and setting off unsteadyly. All right, said Jasper, following into step beside him. Meanwhile, the old gentleman in his large, handsome stately room showed no sign of returning to consciousness. That had come back for a brief moment. He had held to Pauli's hand so tightly on the head of the burst that there was no chance of destroying her fingers had she so desired. And Father Fisher, with whom Dr. Jones had of course made acquaintance before the steamer fairly sailed, said they're keeping watch, too, in a professional way, the ship's doctor having called him in consultation over the case. And Fonzie, who had been in deep penance because she had wandered off from the library with another little girl, to gaze over the railing upon the stitched children below, thereby missing Pauli, was in such awe that she was allowed to cuddle up against Pauli's side and hold her other hand. And there she sat there still as a mouse, hardly daring to breeze. And Mr. King, feeling as if, after all, the case was pretty much under his supervision, came softly in at intervals to see that all was well and that the dreadful boy was kept out. And the passengers all drifted back to the steamer chairs, glad of some new topic to discuss, for the gossip they had brought on board was right by now, as there were two days at sea. And the steamer sailed over the blue water that softly leapt the stout vessel's side, careless of the battle that had been waged for her life, even then holding by slender dreads. And Fanny Wanderberg, whose grandfather was a contemporary in the old business days in New York with Mr. King, who said to Samaritan, next table to the king party spent most of her time running to Mrs. Pepper's daydream, or interviewing anyone who would be able to give her the slightest encouragement as to when she claimed Pauli Pepper. Oh dear me, Fanny Greidt, on one such occasion, when she happened to run across Chesper.  Mrs. Fisher and her father are there too, or I'd get them to make Pauli come out on deck. We all want her for a game of shuffleboard. Chesper sighed, so did they long for a game of shuffleboard. Then he brought himself up and said as brightly as he could, he's the self-impact Pauli to stay in Miss Wanderberg, so I don't see as it can be helped. He's been very sick, you know. Fanny Wanderberg beat the tour of a boot on the deck floor. It's a perfect shame, and that horrible old man. He's so seedy and common, just think of it, and swallowing all our fun. Chesper looked off over the sea and said nothing. As for that dreadful boy, he's crazy. I think he's a boar. Goodness me, I hope nobody will introduce him. I'm sure I will never recognize him afterward. Chesper turned on easily. Please, Mr. King, to make Pauli listen to reason, begged Fanny. There isn't another girl on board I care to go with, at least not in the way I would with her. The Griswolds are well enough to play games with, and all that, but you know what they mean. To make her come out with us this morning and listen to reason, she repeated, whining her helplessly. But they think she's just right, said Chesper stoutly. Right, right Fanny explosively. Oh, how can you say so, Mr. Chesper? Why, she is losing just every bit of the fun. I know it, said Chesper with a twinge at the sword, but there's nothing more to be said or done with Wenderberg, since Pauli has decided the matter. Only I want you to remember that they think she's just right about it. Fanny Wenderberg pouted a pretty lips in vexation. At least don't try to get that rightful boy into our own set to play games. She cried when a muscle, for I won't speak to him. He's a perfect boar.  Think of that, Mr. King. I know, that was dreadful. I sent the Chesper, and this made the obstacle to the plan he had found in his own mind to do that very thing he was now being won against. But you see, Ms. Wenderberg, he is all upset by his grandfather's sickness. And I should think he would be, cried when he Wenderberg with spirit. Mrs. Criswald says she has heard him domineering over the old man, and then his grandfather would snarl and scold him like everything, and she has the next state from you know. I don't know how those servants can afford such a nice aristocratic nose in the air. They look so poor. Anyway, the boar is a perfect beast, Mr. King. He is very different now, said Chesper quickly. He had no idea his grandfather was so poorly. Now I'll tell you, Ms. Wenderberg. Chesper turned sharply around on his heels so that he faced her. It was necessary with a girl like her to state plainly what he had to say, and to keep to it. I am going to ask Tom Selwyn to play games with all of us young people. If it distresses you or anyone else, so that you cannot join, of course, I will withdraw, and I know Polly will, and we will get up another circle that will play with him. It was almost impossible to keep from loving at Fanny's face, but Chesper was very grieved as he waited for an answer. Oh dear me, Mr. Chesper, she cried. Haven't I told you I don't really care for anyone on board but Polly Pepper, and Mama doesn't want me to mix up much with those Criswalds. She lowered her voice and glanced over her shoulder. It would make it so awkward if they should be much in New York, and we should meet them. So of course, I've got to do as Polly and you do. Don't you see? It's awfully hard on me though, and she clasped her hands in vexation. Very well then, said Chesper, now that it's decided, and seeing it is, why the next thing to do is to bring Tom down and we'll get up a good game of shuffleboard at once. He is not needed by his grandfather now. He didn't think it necessary to add. For the old gentleman won't see him, and Tom is forbidden to home by the doctor. Fanny's aristocratic nose went up in alarm and her whole face was overspread with dismay. It was one thing to anticipate evil and quite another to find it precipitated upon one. I... I don't believe I can play this afternoon, Mr Chesper. She began hurriedly, for the first time in her young life, finding herself acutely embarrassed. She was even twisting her fingers. Very well, said Chesper Cooley, then I understand that you will not play with us at any time for as we begin today, we shall keep on. I will set about getting up another party at once. He touched his yarn cap lightly and turned off. I'll go right down on the lower deck with you now. Fanny ran after him, her little boot heels clicking excitedly on the hard floor. The steward has marked it all of us. I got him too, while I ran to find Polly so as to engage the place. She added presslessly. That's fine, said Chesper, a smile breaking over the gloom of his face. Now I will have a prime game Miss Wenderberg. Fanny swallowed hard the lamp in her throat and tried to look pleasant. Do you go and collect the Chris Waltz, write Chesper radiantly, and I'll be back with Tom, and he was all done in a minute. And the thing that had been worrying him, how to get Tom into good shape and to keep him there, seemed fixed in the best way possible. But Tom wouldn't go. Nothing that Chesper could do or say would move him out of the gloom in the which he was cast. And at last Chesper ran down for a hard game with the party awaiting him, to whom he explained matters in the best way he could. At last old Mr. Selvin was able to emerge from his state home. Mr. King and he were the best friends by this time and the former always, and Polly read aloud to the others. At all such hours indeed and whenever Polly went to sit by the invalid, Fonzie would curl up at Polly's side and funnel the doll the grandpapa gave her last, which had the honor to take the Europe trip with the family. Fonzie would smoke the little dress down carefully, and then with her hand in Polly's she would sit motionless till the reading was over. Mamzy, whose fingers could not be idle, although the big man in basket was left at home, would be over on the sofa swing busily. And little Dr. Fisher would run in and out, so next to Polly was the nicest doctor in the world, who would appear suddenly around the curtain and smile a proof all through his white teeth. At last, on the fifth day out, the old man was helped up to the sun himself in his steamer chair and deck, and then he had a perfect coterie around him, owing and eyeing over his illness and expressing sympathy in every shape. For since Mr. King and his party took him up, it was quite the thing for all the other passengers to follow suit. In a few hours of this sort of thing had been going on, the old man had such good company about him, and had now skipped up his chessboard to toss him a mere word, or to see if his team Iraq was all tucked and snuggly around him. See here, Polly Pepper, do you play chess? What sir? Polly saw she had not heard correctly. Do you play chess, I say?  No sir, that is, only a little stem of Polly. Well, that will do for a start. The old gentleman nodded in satisfaction and I'll give you some pointers later in this game. Well, and you play backgammon, of course? He didn't wait for her answer, but finished. These people here drive me almost crazy, asking me how I feel and what was the matter with me and all that rubbish. Now I'm going into the library, and you shall go too, and we'll have a game of backgammon. He flung back his team Iraq with a determined hand. Chesper began, oh Polly, in dismay but she broke in. Yes, indeed, I do play backgammon Mr. Selvin and it will be a fine game, and together they helped him up and into a corner of the library. There now, said Polly, with the final pat on the sofa pillows, tucked up at his back. I believe you are as comfortable as you can be Mr. Selvin. Indeed I am, he declared. Now Chesper, do get the backgammon board, great Polly. The idea is over there, spying it on the further table. Old Mr. Selvin cast a hungry glance on it as it was brought forward, and his sharp little eyes sparkled as Polly threw it open. He even chuckled in the light as he set the man. Tom Selvin came up to the table, standing and shadow looked in. Chesper flung himself down on the sofa by the old gentleman's side to watch the game. Suddenly he glanced up, caught sight of Tom. Altogether the latter's head was quickly withdrawn and jumping up and dashed after him. Here, see here Tom. He called after the big figure before him, making good time down the stairs. I can't go chasing you all over the boat in this fashion. Stop, will you? What do you want? Demanded Tom grossly, feeling it impossible to elude such a pursuer and backing up against the convenient angle. I want you to come down into the library and watch the game. Do, it will be the best time. He didn't say to make it all up. Can't, said Tom. He won't see me. Oh yes, he will. I almost know he will, declared Chesper eagerly, feeling this minute as if the most unheard of things were possible. And beside, your sister. I mean the pepper girl. Miss pepper. Tom corrected himself clumsily. She can't beer me. I won't come. Oh yes, she can now. The Chesper just is eagerly, especially since you have told her all you have told me. Well, I hate girls anyway, declared Tom in the most savage fashion. Always I've hated them, and always I share. They won't come. End of Chapter 2 Recording by Ellie December 2009 Chapter 3 Of 5 Little Peppers Abroad This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information and to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lee Paquette 5 Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney Chapter 3 Franzi Goes Visiting Grandpa Pa said Franzi softly as she clung to his hand after they had made the descent to the lower deck. I think the littlest one can eat some of the fruit, don't you?" she asked anxiously. Never you fear, assented old Mr. King. That child that I saw yesterday can compass anything in the shape of food.  It was impossible not to see them when it roared. I am so glad its teeth are there, said Franzi, with a sigh of satisfaction, as she regarded her basket of fruit. Because if it hadn't any, we couldn't give it these nice pears, Grandpa Pa. Well, here we are, said Mr. King, holding her hand tightly. Bless me, aren't those your toes, young man?  Just draw them in a bit, will you? There. Well now, Franzi, this way. Here's the party, I believe. And he led her over to the other side, where a knot of steerage passengers were huddled together. In the midst, sat a woman, chubby-faced, and big and square, holding a baby. She had a big red shawl wrapped around her, in the folds of which snuggled the baby, who was contentedly chewing one end of it, while his mother had her eyes on the rest of her ring, of which there seemed a good many. When the baby saw Franzi, he stopped chewing the old shawl and grinned, showing all the teeth of which Mr. King had spoken. The other children, toe-headed and also chubby, looked at the basket hanging on Franzi's arm and also grinned. There is the baby, exclaimed Franzi in delight, pulling Grandpa Pa's hand gently. Hello, Grandpa Pa, there he is. That's very evident, said the old gentleman. Bless me, addressing the woman. How many children have you pray tell? Nine, she said. Then she twitched the jacket of one of them and the pinafore of another to have them mined their manners, while the baby kicked and crowed and gurgled, seeming to be all teeth. Got you some fruit, said Franzi, holding out her basket, where at all the toe-headed group except the baby, crowded each other dreadfully to see all there was in it. I'm sorry the flowers are gone, so I couldn't bring any today. May the baby have this, holding out a pair by the stem. The baby settled that question by lunging forward and seizing the pair with two fat hands when he immediately sank into the depths of the old shaw again, all his teeth quite busy at work. Franzi set down her basket on the deck and the rest of the brood emptied it to their own satisfaction.  Grandpa Pa, said Franzi, turning to him and clasping his hands. If I only might hold that baby just one little bit of a minute, she begged keenly excited. Oh, Franzi, he's too big, expostulated Mr. King in dismay. I can hold him just as easy, Grandpa Padir, said Franzi, her lips drooping mournfully. See? And she sat down on a big coil of rope nearby and smoothed out her brown gown. Please, Grandpa Padir. He'll cry, said Mr. King quickly. Oh, no, Franzi, it wouldn't do to take him away from his mother. You see, it would be dreadful to set that child to roaring. Very dreadful indeed. Yet he hung over her in distress at the drooping little face. He won't cry. The mother's stolid face lighted up a moment and if the little lady wants to hold him, he'll sit there. May I, Grandpa Padir? cried Franzi, her red lips curling into a happy smile. Oh, please say I may, Grandpa Padir. clasping her hands. The family seems unusually clean, observed Mr. King to himself and the doctor says there's no sickness on board and it's a very different lot of steerage folks going this way from coming out. All of which I've settled before coming down here, he reflected. Well, Franzi, yes, I see no reason why you may not hold the baby if you want to. And before the words were hardly out of his mouth, the chubby-faced woman had set the fat baby in the middle of the brown gown smoothed out to receive him. He clung to his pair with both hands and ate away with great satisfaction, regardless of his new resting place. Just come here, Mrs. Griswold, in immaculately fitting garments, evidently made up freshly for steamer use, beckoned with a hasty hand to her husband. It's worth getting up to see. He flung down his novel and tumbled out of his steamer chair. Look down there! whistled Mr. Griswold that is a sight. And that is the great Horatio King, exclaimed Mrs. Griswold under her breath.  On my honour I never have, declared Mr. Griswold solemnly and wanting to whistle again. Shhh! So loud! warned Mrs. Griswold who was doing most of the talking herself. And plucking his sleeve she emphasised every word with fearful distinctness close to his ear. She's got a dirty steerage baby in her lap, and Mr. King is laughing. Well, I never! Oh, dear me, here come the young people. Polly and Jasper came up the deck-length. Fifteen times around make a mile, don't they, Jasper? She cried. I believe they do, said Jasper. But it isn't like home miles, is it, Polly? Laughing gaily. Or dear old Badger Town. I should think not, replied Polly with a little pang at her heart whenever Badger Town was mentioned. We used to run around the little brown house and see how many times we could without stopping. And how many did you, Polly? asked Jasper. The largest number, I mean. Oh, I don't know, said Polly with a little laugh. Joe beat us always. I remember that. Yes. Joe would get over the ground. You may be sure, said Jasper if anybody could.  Jasper, you don't know, she said, how I do want to see those boys. I know, said Jasper sympathizingly. But you'll get a letter, you know, most as soon as we reach Port, for they were going to mail it before we left. And I have one every day in my mail bag, said Polly. But I want to see them so, Jasper, I don't know what to do. She went up to the rail at a remove from the griswalls and leaned over it. Polly, said Jasper, taking her hand.  I know it, said Polly bravely, raising her head. And I won't. Why, Jasper, Elliot King! For then she saw Grandpa Pa and Franzi and the steerage baby. Jasper gave a halloo and waved his hand. And Polly danced up and down and called and waved her hands too. And Franzi gave a little crow of delight. See, Grandpa Pa! There they are. I want Polly and Jasper too. And old Mr. King whirled around. Oh, dear me!  Which command it did not Well, I never did in all my life. Ejaculated Mrs. Griswold. See, anything like that. Now, if some people she didn't say we should do anything like that to it be dreadfully erratic and queer. But those kings can do anything she added with venom. It's pretty much so, assented Mr. Griswold, giving a lazy shake. Well, I'm going back to my chair if you've got through with me, Louisa. And he sauntered off. Don't go, Reginald, begged his wife. I haven't got a soul to talk to. Oh, well, you can talk to yourself, said her husband. Any woman can. But he paused a moment. Haven't those pepper children got a good birth? Griswold unable to keep her eyes off from the small group below. And their mother pepper or fissure or whatever her name is. I declare it just like a novel, the way I heard this story from Mrs. Vandenberg about it all. And I wish you'd let me get back to my book, Louisa, exclaimed Mr. Griswold tartly at the mention of the word novel, beginning to look longingly like its steamer chair. For its precious little time I get to read on shore. Seems as if I might have a little piece at sea. Do go back and read then, said his wife impatiently. That's just like a man. He can't talk of anything but business, or he must have his nose in a book. We men want to talk sense, growled her husband turning off. But Mrs. Griswold was engrossed in her survey of Mr. King and the doings of his party, and either didn't hear or didn't care what was remarked outside of that interest. Tom Selwyn just then ran up against someone as clumsily as ever. It proved to be the ship's doctor who surveyed him coldly and passed on. Tom gave a start and swallowed hard, then plunged after him. What is it? Asked Dr. Jones pausing. Can I? I'd like to see my grandfather, don't you know? Dr. Jones scanned him coolly from top to toe. Tom took it without wincing, but inwardly he felt as if he must shake to pieces. If you can so conduct yourself that your grandfather will not be excited, at last, said the doctor, what an age it seemed to Tom. I see no reason why you shouldn't see your grandfather and go back to your state room. But let me tell you young man, it was a pretty close shave for him the other day. Had he slipped away, you'd have had that on your conscience that would have lasted you for many a day.  Tom gave a great gasp, clenched his big hands tightly together, took a long look at the wide expanse of water, then disappeared within. In about half an hour, this steerage baby having gone to sleep in Franz's arms, the brothers and sisters finding, after the closest inspection, nothing more to eat in the basket, gathered around the center of attraction in a small bunch. I hope they won't wake up the baby, said Franzi in gentle alarm. Never you fear, said old Mr. King, quite comfortable now in the camp-chair one of the sailors had brought in response to a request from Jasper. That child knows very well by this time I should imagine what noise is. But after a little, the edge of their curiosity having been worn off, the small group began to get festive and to clamor and pull at their mother for want of something better to do. Oh, dear me, said Franzi in distress. Dear, dear, echoed Polly, vainly trying to induce the child next to the baby to get into her lap. Something must be done. Oh, don't you want to hear about a funny cat-children? I'm going to tell them about Grandma Baskham's Jasper. Seeing the piteous look in Franzi's eyes. Yes, we do, said one of the boys, a spokesman, and he solemnly bobbed his toe-head where at all the children then bobbed theirs. Sit down then, said Polly, socially making way for them, all of you in a circle, and I'll tell you of that very funny cat.  Jasper threw himself down where he could edge himself in. Old Mr. King leaned back and surveyed them with great satisfaction.  And the stolid mother leaned forward and her eyes and mouths looked just like children, only they were bigger. And at last Polly drew a long breath and wound up with a flourish. And that's all. Tell another, said one of the round-eyed, open-mouthed children without moving a muscle. All the rest sat perfectly still. Oh, dear me, said Polly with a little laugh. That was such a good long one, you can't want another. I think you've gotten yourself into business, Polly, said Jasper with a laugh. Hadn't we better go? Polly gave a quick glance at Franzi. Franzi, dear, she said, let us go up to our deck now, dear, shall we? Oh, no, Polly, please don't go yet. Baked Franzi in alarm and patting the baby softly with a gentle little hand. Polly looked off at Grandpa Pa. He was placently surveying the water, his eyes occasionally roving over the novel and interesting sights around. On the other side of the deck, a returning immigrant was bringing out a Jew's harp and two or three of his fellow passengers were preparing to pitch coys. Old Mr. King was actually smiling at it all. Polly hadn't seen him so contented since they sailed. I guess I'll tell another one, Jasper, she said.  Yes, said the boy, bobbing his toe head. I did. And he unfolded and folded his hands back again, then waited patiently.  He belonged to Mr. Atkins, who kept store in Badger Town, and the Pepper children used to see a good deal of him when they took home the sacks and coats that Mamsie sewed for the storekeeper. And in the midst of the story, when the stolid, steerage children were actually laughing over the antics of that remarkable dog, Jasper glanced up toward the promenade deck, took a long look and started to his feet. Why, Polly, Pepper, see? He pointed upward. There on the curve were old Mr. Selwyn and Tom walking arm in arm. End of Chapter 3 Recording by Linda Lee Paquettes Chapter 4 of 5 Little Peppers Abroad This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Linda Lee Paquettes 5 Little Peppers Abroad By Margaret Sidney Chapter 4 Steamer Life And after that it was my grandson Thomas, on all occasions, the old gentleman introducing the boy to the right and to the left of the deck, his old arm within the younger one.  Yes, my grandson Thomas is going back to school. We've been running about in your country a bit and the boy's mother went home first with the other children. But Holly heard him say as the two paused in front of her steamer chair. Indeed! ejaculated Mrs. Vandenberg as he addressed her and raising her eyebrows with a supercilious glance for his plain, unprepossessing appearance. Yes, madame. And glad shall I be to set my foot on Old England again. Hey, Tom, my boy, don't you say so? Tom looked off over the sea, but did not speak. Neither did Mrs. Vandenberg answer, but turned her face away in disdain that was very plainly marked. Home is the best place, madame! declared Old Mr. Selwyn emphatically. Well, Old England is our home and nothing will induce me to leave it again. I can assure you. Again, Mrs. Vandenberg did not reply, but looked him up and down in cold silence. Old Mr. Selwyn, not appearing to notice, chattered on. At last she deliberately turned her back on him. Isn't he common and horrid? whispered Fanny Vandenberg in the steamer chair next to Polly, thrusting her face in between her and her book. And she gave a little giggle. Hush! said Polly warningly. He will hear you. Nonsense! Impossible! He is rattling on so, and you do look at mama's face. He didn't hear, but Tom did, and he flashed a glance, dark and wrathful, over at the two girls and started forward, abruptly pulling his grandfather along. Oh, dear me! exclaimed Polly in distress, dropping her book in her lap. Now he has heard. Dreadful boy, said Fanny carelessly, stretching out in her steamer chair comfortably. Well, who cares? He's worse than his grandfather. Yes, he has heard, repeated Polly, sorrowfully looking after the two. Tom still propelling the old gentleman along the deck at a lively rate. Now what shall we do? It isn't of the least consequence if he has heard, reiterated Fanny, and mama has been frightfully bored, I know, to tell us mama, she called. Mrs. Vandenberg turned away from the rail, where she had paused in her constitutional when addressed by the old gentleman and came up to the girls. Do sit down mama in your steamer chair, begged Fanny. I'll tuck you up in your rug, and she jumped lightly out of her own chair. There, that's nice. As Mrs. Vandenberg sank gracefully down, and Fanny padded and pulled the rug into shape. Now tell us, wasn't he the most horrible old bore? As she cuddles back into her own nest, Mrs. Vandenberg laughed in a very hybrid manner. He was very amusing, she said. Amusing, I should say so, despite Fanny. I suppose he would have told you all his family history if he had stayed.  Pauly twisted uneasily under her rug. Mrs. Vandenberg glanced into the steamer chair on the other side. It had several books on top of the rug. I don't believe he can take that seat, she said. I think it would be well for you to change into it, for that old man may take it into his head when he makes the turn of the deck to drop into it and give us the whole of his family history. Horrors! ejaculated Fanny, hopping out of her chair again. I'll make sure that he doesn't. And yet I did so want to sit next to Pauly Pepper. She mourned, ensconcing herself under the neighboring rug and putting the books on the floor by her side. Don't do that. Give them to me, said her mother. I'll put them in your chair unless Miss Pauly will take that place. Only I don't like to disturb you, dear," she said with a sweet smile at Pauly. Why, that would make matters worse, Mama, said Fanny. Don't you see? Then that old bore would put himself into Pauly's chair, for he likes her anyway. Don't leave it as it is. So Mrs. Vandenberg smiled again. I don't know but that you are right, she said, and leaned back her head restfully. Dear me, yes, he is amusing. They are terribly common people, said Fanny. Her aristocratic nose well in the air. Aren't they, Mama? And did you ever see such a clumsy thing as that dreadful boy with such big hands and feet? She held up her own hands as she spoke and played with her rings and let the jingling bracelets run up and down her wrists. Fanny, how often must I tell you to wear gloves on ship-board? said her mother in a tone of reproof. Nothing spoils the hands so much as a trip at sea. They won't get over it all summer. They're coarsened already. Fanny passed an alarmed glance at the long slender fingers. I'm so tired of gloves, Mama. Fanny gave a restful yawn. Pauly Pepper doesn't wear them. She cried triumphantly, peering past her mother to point to Pauly's hands. Mrs. Vandenberg hesitated. It wouldn't do to say anything that would reflect against the Pepper's manners or customs or bringing up generally. So she leaned over and touched Pauly's fingers with her own gloved ones. You don't wear gloves, do you, my dear? She said in gentle surprise, quite as if the idea had just struck her for the first time. No, Mrs. Vandenberg, I don't, said Pauly, at least not on ship-board, unless it is cold. They're now Mama, laughed Fanny in a pleased way. You'll stop teasing me about wearing them, I'm sure. Mrs. Vandenberg turned and surveyed her daughter, but she didn't smile, and Fanny thought it as well to begin again on the old topic. They're awfully common people, aren't they, Mama? Those sell wins. They are indeed, replied Mrs. Vandenberg, quite commonplace and exceedingly tiresome. Fanny Trust me for that, said Fanny with a wise little nod. The old man stopped me and asked me something this morning as I was coming out of the dining-room after breakfast. But I pretended I didn't hear, and I skipped upstairs and almost fell on my nose. You were fortunate to escape, said her mother with a little laugh. Well, let us drop the subject and talk of something else much more important. Polly, my dear, she turned again and surveyed the young girl at her side. You are coming home this autumn, aren't you? Oh, no, said Polly. Grand Papa expects to stay over in Europe a year. Is that so, said Mrs. Vandenberg, and her face fell. I regretted exceedingly, for I should be glad if you would visit Fanny this winter in New York. Thank you, but I couldn't anyway, said Polly. Then the color flew up to her cheek. I mean, I am in school, you know Mrs. Vandenberg, but I thank you, and it is so good of you to want me, she added hurriedly, feeling that she hadn't said the right thing at all. I do want you very much, my dear child, said Mrs. Vandenberg, and I am very sorry you are to remain abroad over the winter, for your grandfather would be persuaded I feel quite sure to have you leave school for a while and come to us for a visit. Oh, no, he wouldn't, cried Polly quickly. I beg pardon, Mrs. Vandenberg, but I never leave school for anything unless I am sick, and I am almost never sick. Well then, you could come for the Christmas holidays, said Mrs. Vandenberg, and we are all together, the boys come home from school, and it's just too lovely for anything. She clasped her hands inside. Oh, if she could but see Ben and Joel and David together, it would be so much fun to see them together, and it would be so much fun to see them together, and it would be so much fun to see them together, and it would be so much fun to see Ben and Joel and David but once. Mrs. Vandenberg was a very tall woman, and she gazed down into the radiant face without speaking. Polly was looking off over the sea, and the color came and went on her cheek. We would soon get her out of all such notions, if we once had her with us, wouldn't we, Mama, said Fanny in a low tone close to her mother's ear. Mrs. Vandenberg gave her a warning pinch, but Polly's brown eyes were fastened on the distant horizon, and she hadn't heard a word. Well, we'll arrange it sometime, said Fanny's mother, breaking the silence, so you must remember, Polly dear, that you are engaged to us for a good long visit when you do come home. I will tell Grandpa Paul that you asked me, said Polly, to rise back with a sigh to look into Mrs. Vandenberg's face. Oh, he will fall into the plan quite readily, I think, said Mrs. Vandenberg lightly. You know, we are all very old friends. That is, the families are. Mr. Vandenberg's father and Mr. King were very intimate. Perhaps you don't know, Polly. And Fanny's mama drew herself up to her extreme height. It was impossible for her to lull back in her chair when talking of her family. That we are related to the Earl of Cavendish, who owns the old estate in England, and we go back to William the Conqueror. That is, Fanny does on her father's side. Fanny, thereupon, came up out of her chair-depths to sit quite straight and gaze with importance at Polly's face. But Polly was still thinking of the boys, and she said And my family is just as important, said Mrs. Vandenberg, and she smiled in great satisfaction. Really, we could make things very pleasant for you, my child. Our set is so exclusive you could not possibly meet anyone but the very best people. Oh, here is your mother! She smiled enchantingly up at Mrs. Fisher and held out her hand. Do come and sit here with us, dear Mrs. Fisher. She begged. Then we shall be a delightful group, we two mothers and our daughters. Thank you, Mrs. Vandenberg. Mrs. Fisher smiled, but she didn't offer to take the steamer chair. I have come after Polly. Mamzy, what is it? I'll come, said Polly, tumbling out of her steamer chair in a twinkling. Oh, dear me, exclaimedaret, don't take Polly away. I do implore you, my dear Mrs. Fisher. I am so fond of her. I must, said Mother Fisher, smiling again, her hand now in Polly's, and before any more remonstrances were made, they were off. Oh, Mamzy, breathed Polly, hanging to the dear hand. I am so glad you came and took me away. Mrs. Fisher suddenly, Grand Papa asked me to find you. He thinks you could cheer old Mr. Selwyn up a bit, perhaps with backgammon. I'm afraid Tom has been behaving badly again. Oh, Mamzy, exclaimed Polly in dismay, and then the story came out. Grand Papa, said Franzi, pulling at his hand gently as they walked slowly up and down the deck, and she peered anxiously up into his face. No, child, that is, not much, said old Mr. King, trying to smooth his brows out. He was thinking, for it kept up-truding at all times and seasons, of that dreadful scrap of paper that Cousin Eunice had imposed upon him at the last minute before they sailed, announcing that she had had her way and must compel acceptance of such a gift as she chose to make to Franzi Pepper. If it aches at all, said Franzi decidedly, I wish you would let me rub it for you, Grand Papa. I do, truly. Well, it doesn't, said Grand Papa. That is, it won't, now that I have you with me. I was thinking of something unpleasant, Franzi, and then, to tell you the truth, old Mr. Selwyn tires me to death. I can't talk to him and his grandson is a cad. What is a cad? asked Franzi, wonderingly. Oh, well, a boy who isn't nice, said Mr. King carelessly. Grand Papa, why isn't that boy nice to that poor old man? asked Franzi, a grieve to look coming into her blue eyes. Goodness me, child, you ask me too much, said Mr. King quickly. Oh, a variety of reasons. Well, we must take things as we find them and do what we can to help matters along. But it seems a hopeless case. Things were in better shape, and now they seem all tangled up again thanks to that boy. Grand Papa, said Franzi earnestly, I don't believe that boy means to be bad to that poor old man. I don't really and truly, Grand Papa," she added, shaking her head. Well, he takes a queer way to show it, if he means to be good, said old Mr. King grimly. Oh, is that you, Master Tom, as they turned a corner to find themselves face to face with Tom Selwyn. Mr. King, began very rapidly, so that the words ran all over each other. I'm no end, sorry. Don't think hard things of me. It's not my fault this time. Grandfather heard it as well as I. At least, I caught a little, and he asked me what it was, and I had to tell him, and it upset him. Old Mr. King stood gazing into the big boy's face in utter bewilderment. As I don't know in the least what you are trying to tell me, my boy. At last he said, I shall have to ask you to repeat it, and go slowly. So Tom tried again to tell his story, and by the time that it was all out, Mr. King was fuming in righteous indignation. Well, well, it's not worth thinking of. At last he said, at sight of the flashing eyes before him, and the angry light on the young face. You take my arm, or I'll take yours, Mr. Tom. There, that's better. And we'll do a bit of a turn on the deck. Your grandfather will come out of it, for he's busy over the back-gammon board. But it was an ugly thing to do just the same. Just then, Mrs. Vanderberg and Fanny passed them. All sweet smiles for him and for Franzi, but with no eyes for the boy. End of Chapter 4 Chapter 5 of 5 Little Peppers Subroad This is the LibriVox Recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ted Nugent 5 Little Peppers Subroad by Margaret Sydney Chapter 5 A Fish Story And Other Things Oh, Polly, Polly Franzi came running along the deck and up to the little group playing shuffleboard. There is such a very big whale and she claps her hands in great excitement. There truly is. Do come and see him. Is there, pet? cried Polly, throwing down the shovel. Then we must all go and see him. Come, Jasper, and all of you. And she seized Franzi's hand. He is very dreadful big, said Franzi, as they sped on. Jasper and the other players closed behind. And he puffed Polly and the water went up. Oh, so high. Thus because he came with, said Polly, as they rest along. Dear me, I hope he will be gone when we get there. Can't he breath under the water? asked Franzi, finding it rather hard work to perform that exercise herself in such a rest. What does he stay down there for, then say Polly? Oh, because he likes it, answered Polly carelessly. Take care, Franzi. You're running into all those steamer chairs. I'm sorry, he can't breath, said Franzi anxiously, trying to steer clear of the bunch of steamer chairs whose occupants has suddenly left them too to see the will. Poor will. I'm sorry for him, Polly. Oh, he's happy, said Polly. He likes it, just as it is. He comes up for a little while to blow end. I thought he said he came up to breath, Polly, said Franzi, tucking at Polly's hand and guilty of interrupting. Well, and so he does, and to blow too. It's just the same thing, said Polly quickly. Is it just exactly the same? Asked Franzi. Yes, indeed. That is, in the will's case, answered Polly as they ran up to Grandpa and the rest of their party and the knots of other passengers all staring hard at a certain point on the sparkling west of water. I thought you were never coming, said all Mr. King, moving away from the rail to tuck Polly and Franzi in where they could get to good view. Oh, there he is. There he is, Jasper. Look, cried Polly. There he is, croaked Franzi, now much excited. Oh, isn't he big, Grandpa? I should say he was, declared Mr. King. I think I never saw a finer well in my life, Franzi. He came up to blow, said Franzi, softly to herself, her face pressed close to the rail, and her yellow hair floating off in the breeze. And Polly says it doesn't hurt him and he likes it. What is it, Franzi choked, asked all Mr. King hearing her voice. Grandpa Harper, has he got any little wheels? Asked Franzi, suddenly raising her face. Oh yes, I imagine so, said all Mr. King. That is, he ought to have, I'm sure. Poppers go in schools. Why shouldn't wheels, pray tell? Was the poppers asked Franzi with white eyes. Oh, here's the dolphin or a grandpa's. Oh, said Franzi, much misdefined. And does he go to school? Well, they go ever so many of them together and they call it the school. Goodness me, that is the blow. As the wheels pouted valiantly and looked as if he were making directly for the steamer. Oh, Grandpa Harper, he's coming right here. Screamed Franzi, clapping her hands in delight and hopping up and down. Asper was almost as much excited while the passengers ran hither and thither to get to good view and level their big glasses and owed in art and some of them ran to get their cameras. And Mr. Will seemed to like it for he pouted and flirted his long tail and dashed into the water and doubt again to blow till they were all quite looking at him. At last, with a final plunge, he bet them all goodbye and disappeared. Franzi, after her first cream of delight, had pressed her face close to the rail and held her breath. She did not say a word, but gazed in speechless enjoyment at the antics of the big fish. And Grandpa Harper had to speak two or three times when the show went on all over before she heard him. Did you like it, Franzi? He asked, gathering her hand up closely in his as he leaned over to see her face. Franzi turned away with a sigh. Oh, Grandpa Harper! He was so beautiful! She drew a long breath then turned back wrongingly. Won't he ever come back? She asked. He said, always the king. But will see plenty more, I imagine, Franzi? At least, if not on this voyage. Why, some other time? Oh, wasn't it splendid? exclaimed Polly, tossing back the little rings of brown hair from her brown. Well, he's gone. Now we must run back Jasper and finish our game.  The other players following. I like to see this very well again, said Franzi, with a small sigh. When Papa, I would really, he was a nice well. He was a fine one, said all Mr. King. I don't know, as I ever put eyes on a better specimen and I've seen a great many in my life. Tell me about them, do Grand Papa beg Franzi, going nearer to him? Well, I'll get into my steamer chair and you shall sit in my lap. And then I'll tell you about some of them, said Mr. King, much gratified. As they moved off, Franzi clinking to his hand, she looked back and saw two children gazing wastefully after them. Grand Papa, she whispered, pulling his hand gently to attract attention. May that little boy and girl come to and hear about your wills? Yes, to be sure, cried Mr. King. So Franzi called them and in a few minutes there was quite a big group around Grand Papa's steamer chair. For when the other children saw what was going on, they stopped too and before he knew there he was, perfectly surrounded. I should very much like to hear what it is all about. Mrs. Vanderbilt's soft voice broke into a pause when all Mr. King stopped to rest a bit. It must be very fascinating, dear Mr. King. You have no idea how pretty your group is. She pulled Fanny forward gently into the outer fringe of the circle. Pray, what is the subject? Nothing in the world but the fish story, madam, said the old gentleman. Oh, may we stay and hear it? cried Mrs. Vanderbilt enthusiastically clapping her gloved hands. Fanny adores such things, don't you, dear? Turning to her. Yes, indeed, mama. Answered Fanny, trying to look very much pleased. Take my word for it. You'll find little to interest either of you, said Mr. King. Oh, I should be charmed, cried Mrs. Vanderbilt. Fanny, dear, brought that steamer chair to the other side. But the stout, comfortable looking woman, coming down back, stopped directly in front of that same chair and before Fanny could move it sat down, saying, this is my chair, young lady. That vulgar old woman has got it, said Fanny, coming back quite crestfallen. Ah, Mrs. Vanderbilt struck her shoulders as she looked at the occupant of the chair who surveyed her calmly and fell to reading her book. Well, you must just bear it, dear. It's one of the annoyances to be endured on shipboard. I suppose the lady wanted her own chair, observed Mr. King dryly.  It's very good of you to put it that way, I'm sure. Well, now do let us hear that delightful story. Fanny, dear, you can sit on part of my chair, she added, regardless of the black loops of a gentleman hovering near, who had a sharp glance on the green cards hanging to the back of the chair she had appropriated and that bore his name. So Fanny perched on the end of the steamer chair and Mr. King, not seeing any way out of it, went on in his recital of the world's story, winding up with an account of some wonderful purposes he had seen and the variety of other things until suddenly he turned his head and keenly regarded Fanny's mother. How intensely interesting she exclaimed opening her eyes and trying not to yawn. And finished about that well, feeling that she must say something. Mama exclaimed Fanny, trying to stop her. I ended up that well story some five minutes ago, Madam, said Mr. King. I think you must have been asleep. Oh, no, indeed. I have enchant every moment protested Mrs. Vanderbilt sitting quietly waged. You surely have the gift of a reckoned term, Mr. King. She said, gracefully recovering herself. Oh, dear me, here is that odious boy and that tiresome old man. As Tom Selwyn came up slowly, his grandfather on his arm. Mr. King put Franzi gently off his lap, still keeping her hand in his. Now, children, the story is all done. The wills and the purposes are all finished up, so run away. He touched his sea cap to Mrs. Vanderbilt and her daughter, then marched up to the old man and Tom. I'm tired of sitting still, he said. May my little granddaughter and I join you in a walk? Tom shot him a grateful look. All Mr. Selwyn, who cared most of all for Paulie, mumbled down something, but did not seem especially happy. But Mr. King did not appear to notice anything awry but fell into step, still keeping Franzi's hand and they pissed off. If you know which side your bread is buttered mama, said Fanny Vanderbilt's rudely, looking after them as they disappeared, you will make up to those Selwyn people. Never, declared her mother firmly. Fanny, are you white?  What did your father say to such a notion? Well, Papa isn't here, said Fanny, and if he were, he'd do something to keep in with Mr. King. I hid and detest those dreadful Selwyns as much as you do mama, but I'm going to contivate them, see if I don't. And I forbid it, said her mother, forgetting herself and raising her voice. They are low-breed and common and beside that, they are eccentric and queer. Don't speak to them or notice them in the slightest. Madam, said the gentlemen of the Black Loaks, advancing and touching his cap politely. I regret to disturb you, but I believe you have my chair. Mrs. Vanderbilt begged pardon and vacated the chair. When the gentlemen touched his cap again and immediately drew the chair up to the one where the stout, comfortable-looking woman said, it seems to me they are more ill-bred, low-life people on board this boat than it has been my lot to meet on any voyage, said Mrs. Vanderbilt, drawing her sea coat around her slight figure and selling off her daughter in her wake. End of Chapter 5 Chapter 6 of Five Little Peppers Abroad This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ariel Lipshaw Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney Chapter 6 A Little Surprise Sir, said little Mr. Selwyn, bringing his sharp black eyes to bear upon old Mr. King, you've been very good to me and I've not been always pleasant, but it's my way, sir, it's my way. Mr. King nodded pleasantly, although deep in his heart he agreed with the choleric old gentleman. But as for Polly, why she's good, sir, there was no mistaking Mr. Selwyn's sentiments there and his old cheek glowed while giving what to him meant the most wonderful praise to be paid to a person. Old Mr. King straightened up. You've said the right thing now, he declared. And I wish I could see that girl when she's grown up, added the little old gentleman. I want really to know what sort of a woman she'll make. I do indeed, sir. It isn't necessary to speculate much on it, answered Mr. King confidently, and her mother and remember the bringing up that Polly Pepper has had. The little old gentleman squinted hard at the clouds scutting across the blue sky. That's so, he said at last. Well, I'm sorry we aren't apart, he added. And, sir, I really wish you would come down to my place with your party and give me a fortnight during your stay in England. I really do, sir, upon me word. There was no mistaking his earnestness as he thrust out one thin, long-fingered hand. There he set a card within Mr. King's fingers. Arthur Selwyn, the Earl of Cavendish, met Mr. King's eyes. I had a fancy to do this thing, said the little old gentleman, to run across from America in simple fashion, and it pleased the boy who hates a fuss. And we've gotten rid of all sorts of nuisances by it, interviews and tiresome people, and I've enjoyed it mightily. He chuckled away till it seemed as if he were never going to stop. Old Mr. King burst out laughing, too, and the pair were so very jolly that the passengers, grouped together waiting for the Liverpool landing, turned to stare at them. Just see how intimate Mr. King is with that tiresome, common old Mr. Selwyn, exclaimed Mrs. Vandenberg to her daughter. I never was so surprised at anything in all my life to see that he keeps it up now, for I thought that aristocratic Horatio King was the most fastidious being alive.   I want some nice times and a little fun now, wind Fanny, with an envious glance over at Polly and Jasper, with the dreadful Selwyn boy between them, and Franzi running up to join them and everybody in their party just bubbling over with happiness. I wish Mr. King and his party would go to Paris now, said her mother, suddenly. Oh, don't I just wish it! cried Fanny in a burst. Did you ask him, Mama? Yes, indeed. I talked for fully half an hour yesterday, but it was no use, and he doesn't seem to know how long he is going to stay in England.  Oh, why couldn't we go to Holland? exclaimed Fanny impulsively, and her eyes brightened. Splendid, Holland. That would be something like, Mama. You forget the van Dykes are to be in Paris awaiting us.  Mama, don't go there now. Do change and let us go to Holland with the Kings. Do, Mama, she implored. Why, Fanny Vandenberg, exclaimed her mother sharply. What is the matter with you? You know it was settled long ago that we should meet Mrs. Van Dyke and Eleanor in Paris at just this very time. It would never do to offend them, particularly when Eleanor is going to marry into the Howard set.  Yes, that's one thing that I wanted the Kings to go to Paris for, said Mrs. Vandenberg. You could be with them, and really they are much more important than anyone to get in with, and I'd keep up the friendship with the van Dykes, but that Mr. King is so obstinate about everything with him. A frown settled all across her pretty face, and she beat her foot impatiently on the deck.  When I come out in society I'm going to choose my own friends, she muttered to herself, and set her lips tightly together. Mr. King was saying, Thank you so much, Mr. Selwyn, for I really think I'd prefer to call you so as I knew you so first. So you shall, cried the little Earl, glancing around on the groups, and it's better just here at all events, and he chuckled again. Then you really will come, and he actually seized Mr. King's hand and rung it heartily. No, I was about to say it is quite impossible.  My stay in London is short, only a few days, Mr. King was saying, and then we go directly to Holland. I thank you all the same. Believe me, I appreciate it. It is good of you to ask us," he cordially added. The little Earl of Cavendish broke away from him, and took a few hasty steps down the deck to get this new idea fairly into his brain that his invitation had not been accepted. Then he hurried back. My dear sir, he said, laying his hand on Mr. King's arm, will you do me the favour to try to come at some future time, to consider your plans before you return to America and see if you can't manage to give me this great pleasure of welcoming you to my home? Think of it, I beg, and drop me a line. If at home I shall always be most glad to have you with me, I should esteem it a privilege." The Earl of Cavendish was astonished to find himself beseeching the American gentleman without a title, and then they awaked to the fact that the groups of passengers were merging into a solid mass and a slow procession was beginning to form for the stairway and the landing episode was well underway. Mrs. Vanderberg, determined not to bid goodbye on the steamer, but to be with the kings till the last moment, rushed up to them on the wharf, followed by Fanny. Oh, we are so sorry you are not going to Paris with us, cried Mrs. Vanderberg, while Fanny flew at Polly Pepper and engrossed her hungrily. Can't you reconsider it now? She asked with a pretty earnestness. No, it is impossible, answered Mr. King for about the fiftieth time. Our plans will not allow it. Yes, we shall. We meet old friends there and Paris is always delightful. Mrs. Vanderberg bit her lip in her vexation. I was going to see you and beg you even now to change your plans while we were on the steamer waiting to land, she went unheardly, but you were bored, I quite pitied you by that tiresome common old Mr. Selwyn. Yes, I was talking with him, said Mr. King, but excuse me, I was not bored. He is peculiar, but not at all common and he has many good qualities as a man and I like the boy immensely. How can you? Mrs. Vanderberg gave a little high-bred laugh. They are so insufferably common, Mr. King, though Selwyn's are. Excuse me, said Mr. King, that was the Earl of Cavendish, it will do no harm to mention it now as they have gone. Who? Who? demanded Mrs. Vanderberg in a bewildered way. I did not know it till this morning, but our fellow passenger Mr. Selwyn chose to cross over keeping his real identity unknown and I must say I admire his taste in the matter and anyway it was his affair and not mine. It was a long speech and at its conclusion Mrs. Vanderberg was still demanding, Who? Who? in as much of a puzzle as ever. The Earl of Cavendish, repeated Mr. King, Mr. Selwyn is the Earl of Cavendish, as I say he did not wish it known and Fanny called her mother, sitting helplessly on the first thing that presented itself, a box of merchandise by no means clean, Fanny, the the Earl of Cavendish, she could get no further. Little Dr. Fischer, who administered restoratives and waited on Mrs. Vanderberg and her daughter to their London train, came skipping back to the Liverpool Hotel. I hope, wife, I shan't grow uncharitable, he actually glared through his big spectacles, but heaven defend us on our travels from any further specimens like that woman. We shall meet all sorts probably a Donorum, said his wife calmly, it really doesn't matter with our party of eight, we can take solid comfort together. The little doctor came out of his ill temper, but he said ruefully, that's all very well, wife, for you and the Henderson's, for you steered pretty clear I noticed of that woman while she's gone, and he smiled cheerfully. Now for dinner, for I suppose Mr. King has ordered it. Yes he has, said his wife, and you have a quarter of an hour, I've put your clothes out already. All right, the little doctor was already plunging here and there, tearing off his coat and necktie and boots, and exactly at the time set he joined the party with a bright and shining face, as if no Mrs. Vanderberg or anyone in the least resembling her had ever crossed his path. Jasper, cried Polly, as they hurried along out of the heritage train to the steamer that was to take them to Holland, can you really believe that we are almost there? No I can't, said Jasper, for I wanted to see Holland for such a time. Wasn't it good of grand-papa, cried Polly, to take us here the first thing after London? Father always does seem to plan things rightly, answered Jasper, with a good deal of pride, and then it's prime, as Joel used to say, he was going to add, but thought better of it, as any reference to the boys always set Polly to longing for them. Indeed he does, exclaimed Polly in her most earnest fashion. He's ever and always the most splendid grand-papa. Oh I wish I could do things for him, Jasper, she mourned, he's so good to us. You do things for him all the while, Polly, Jasper made haste to say, as they ran along to keep up with the parson, and Mrs. Henderson's comfortable figures just before them. You are all the while doing something for him. Oh no I don't, said Polly, there isn't anything I can do for him. Don't you suppose there ever will be Jasper? she asked imploringly.  Jasper took her hand and stopped just a minute to look into her face. I'll try not to, promised Polly, but oh Jasper I do so very much wish there might be something that I could do, I do indeed Jasper. It was only yesterday, said Jasper, as they began to hurry on once more, that father said, you can't begin to think Jasper what a comfort Polly Jasper is to me. Did he Jasper? cried Polly. Well please, the color flying over her cheek. That was nice of him, because there isn't anything much I can really do for him. Oh dear, there is Grand Papa beckoning to us to hurry.  And presently they were on the boat, and little Dr. Fisher and Mr. Henderson went forward into the saloon, where the rooms reserved beforehand were to be given out, and the rest of the party waited and watched the stream of people in stages and sizes and nationalities who desired to reach Holland the next morning. To Polly it was a world of delight, and to Jasper, who watched her keenly, it was a revelation to see how nothing escaped her, no matter how noisy and dirty or turbulent the crowd, or how annoying the detention, it was all a marvel of happiness from beginning to end. And Jasper, looking back over the two times he had been before to Europe with his father, although he had never seen Holland, remembered only a sort of re-drifting about with many pleasant episodes and experiences. It is true, still with the feeling on the whole of the most distinct gladness when their faces were turned homeward and the journeying was over. Mamzy, cried Polly, poking her head out from the upper berth of the stuffy little stateroom assigned to Mrs. Fisher, Mrs. Henderson, Franzi and herself, was anything ever so delicious as this boat, and to think, Mamzy, hear Polly pause to add as impressively as if the idea had never been voiced they are really to see Holland tomorrow. You'd better go to sleep now, then, said Mrs. Fisher wisely, if you want to be bright and ready really to see much of Holland in the morning, Polly. That's so, answered Polly, ducking back her head to its pillow and wriggling her toes in satisfaction. Franzi is asleep already, isn't she, Mamzy? Yes, said Mrs. Fisher.  Good night, Polly. You would better do the same. Good night, Mamzy, said Polly, with love and good night, dear Mrs. Henderson, she added, already almost in dreamland. End of Chapter 6 Chapter 7 of Five Little Peppers Abroad This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Arielle Lipshaw Five Little Peppers Abroad by Margaret Sidney. Chapter 7 Of Five Little Peppers It seemed to Polly as if she had only breathed twice and had not turned over once when there was Mamzy's voice calling her and there was Mamzy's face looking into hers over the edge of the berth. Wake up, Polly child. You have only about ten minutes to dress in. Oh, dear me! What? Where? exclaimed Polly, springing to a sitting position, thereby giving her brown head a smart thump on the ceiling of the berth. Where are we, Mamzy? Why, it is the middle of the berth.  We are almost at the hook of Holland, said Mrs. Fisher, busily butting Franzy's shoes. Franzy sat on the lower berth, her sleepy little legs dangling over the edge, and her sleepy little head going nid-nodding despite all her efforts to keep herself awake. Oh, dear me! cried Polly remorsefully when she saw that. I ought to have dressed Franzy. Why didn't you wake me up earlier, Mamzy? Because I wanted you to sleep all you could, said now if you'll only dress Polly Pepper as quickly as possible. That's all I ask. I will dress Polly Pepper in a twinkling, Mamzy, declared Polly laughing merrily. Oh, dear me! Where is my other stocking?  Is it down there, Mamzy? All the while she was shaking the bed clothes violently for any chance glimpse of it in the berth. Where did you put it last night when you took it off, Polly? asked Mrs. Fisher, buttoning away for dear life on Franzy's shoes. Then hop out now and fly into your clothes. I thought I put them both in the corner here, cried poor Polly, twitching everything loose. There upon her big hat hung carefully upon a high hook, slipped off and fell to the floor.  Haste only makes matters worse. But I can't go with only one stocking on, said Polly, quite gone in despair now. Oh, dear Mrs. Henderson, don't you see it on the floor? For that good woman had dropped to her knees and was busily prowling bags and clothing. That's what I'm hoping to do, she answered. But I don't see it as yet, Polly. I'll help Polly to find it, cried Franzy, now thoroughly awake and dropping her small skirts to get down on the floor by Mrs. Henderson's side. Don't feel badly, Polly. I'll find your stocking for you. No, Franzy, said her mother. You must get into your own clothes. And then Mrs. Henderson is nearly already, and you can go out with her and that will leave more room, so that Polly and I can search more carefully. And then Polly looked to, and there was her stocking dangling from the very high hook where the big hat had been.  Well now, as Polly pounced on the stocking. See how fast you can hop into your clothes, daughter. Then she began to put the things for the bags into their places, and Matilda, coming in, finished the work. And Polly flew around, buttoning and tying and patting herself down the stairs. And by the time that little Dr. Fisher's voice called at the door, well, wife, are you ready? There they all were, trim and tidy as ever for a start. Where is it, Grandpa Pa? Asked Franzy, peering around on either side. Dr. Fisher and Jasper had gone off to attend to the examination of the luggage by the customs inspectors. And then, coming up gently to pull his arm, I don't see it anywhere. What child? answered Grandpa Pa, looking down at her. See here, wait a minute, to the others who were ahead. Franzy has lost something. Oh, no, Grandpa Pa, I haven't began Franzy in gentle protestation. All my things are in here. She padded her little bag that hung on her arm, a gift of old Mr. King's for her to carry her very own things in, that yielded her immense satisfaction every time she looked at it, which was very often. Didn't you say you wanted to find something dear? he asked, quite puzzled, while the others surrounded them, wonderingly. No, said Franzy, only where is the hook, Grandpa Pa, I don't see it. She lifted her little face and gazed up at him, confident that he knew everything. She has lost her button hook, exclaimed Polly. The cunning little silver one Auntie Whitney gave her Christmas. I'll run back and get it, it must be in the state room. Stay, Polly, commanded Mr. King, and oh, no I haven't piped Franzy as Polly was flying off, it's here in my bag, padding Grandpa Pa's gift hanging on her arm. I couldn't lose that Polly, she cried in horror at the thought, as Polly hurried back. Well what is it then, you've lost, demanded Polly breathlessly. I haven't lost anything, reiterated Franzy, pushing back the yellow hair from her face. Grandpa Pa tell them please, I haven't lost anything. She kept repeating, appealing to him. She says she hasn't lost anything, so we won't say that again, echoed old Mr. King.  The hook, said Franzy, here Grandpa Pa, and she looked all around in a troubled way. They said it was here, I don't see it Grandpa Pa. She means the hook of Holland, burst out Polly, don't you Franzy pet, and she threw her arms around her while Mr. Henderson exclaimed, of course, why didn't we think of it to be sure. Yes Polly, Franzy gave a glad little cry, and wriggled in great satisfaction in her arms. Grandpa Pa where is it, the hook of Holland? Oh, bless me child, exclaimed Mr. King, that is the name of the place, at least to be accurate it is hook Van Now just as soon as we get fairly started on our way to Rotterdam, I'll tell you all about it. Or Polly shall, since she was clever enough to find out what you meant. Oh no Grandpa Pa, cried Polly, I'd so much rather you told her, please do dear grandfather. And so I will, he promised, very much pleased, for Mr. King dearly loved to be the one to relate the history and anecdotes about the places along which they traveled. And so when they were steaming off toward Rotterdam, as he sat in the center of the compartment he had reserved for their fronzie next to him and Polly and Jasper opposite, he told the whole story. The others tucked themselves in the remaining four seats and did not lose a word. Matilda and Mr. King's valet in a second class compartment took charge of the luggage. I like it very much, declared fronzie, when the story was all finished, and smoothing down her little brown gown in satisfaction. I like it very much, Grandpa Pa's telling it, said Polly, but the hook of Holland isn't anything to what we shall see at Rotterdam, while as for the Hague oh, Grandpa Pa. That oh, Grandpa Pa just won his heart and Mr. King beamed at her as her glowing face was turned first to one window and then to the other, that she might not lose anything as the train rumbled on. Just wait till we get to Markin, broken Jasper gaily, then if you want to see the Dutch beat the Dutch, well you may, he ended with a laugh. Oh Jasper, do they really beat each other? cried fronzie, quite horrified and slipping away from Grandpa Pa to regard him closely. Oh no, I mean they go ahead of everything that is most Dutch, Jasper hastened to say. I haven't explained it very well. No, I should think not, laughed his father in high good humor. Well, fronzie, I think you will like the folks on the island of Markin, for they dress in funny quaint costumes, just as their ancestors did years upon years ago. Are there any little children there, asked fronzie, slipping back into her place again and nestling close to his side. Hundreds of them, I suppose, replied Mr. King, with his arm around her and drawing her up to him, and clumping, as they call them, and wooden shoes, cried fronzie. Oh grand papa, clasping her hands, how do they stay on? Well, that's what I've always wondered myself when I've been in Holland. A good many have left off the sabbets, I believe, and wear leather shoes made just like other peoples. Oh grand papa, cried fronzie, leaning forward to peer into his face. Don't let them leave off the wooden shoes, please. I can't make them wear anything but what they want to, said old Mr. King with a laugh, don't be troubled child, you'll see all the wooden shoes you desire in Rotterdam and the Hague too for that matter. Shall I, cried fronzie, nestling back again, quite pleased. Grand papa, I wish I could wear wooden shoes, she whispered presently in a burst of confidence, sticking out her toes to look at them. Bless me, you couldn't keep them on, said Mr. King. Don't the little Dutch children keep them on, asked fronzie. Oh grand papa, I think I could, I really think I could, she added earnestly. Yes they do, because they are born to it, although for the life of me I don't see how they do it, but you couldn't child, you'd fall the first minute and break your nose most likely. Fronzie gave a sigh. Should I, grand papa? Yes, quite likely, but I'll tell you what I will do, I will buy you a pair and we will take them home. That will be fine, won't it dear? Yes, said fronzie, wriggling in delight. Then she sat quite still. Grand papa, she said, reaching up to whisper again, I'm afraid it will make Araminta feel badly to see me with my wooden shoes on, when she can't have any.  Yes indeed, cried grand papa, nodding his white head in delight. There are shoals of them, fronzie, of all sizes. What are shoals? queried fronzie. Oh numbers and numbers, so many we can't count them, answered Mr. King recklessly. Fronzie slid down into her place again, and sat quite still, lost and thought. So many wooden shoes she couldn't count them was quite beyond her, but grand papa's voice roused her. And I'll buy a bushel of them, fronzie, and send them home, so that all your dolls at home can each have a pair. Would that suit you, pat? Fronzie screamed with delight and clapped her hands. Polly and Jasper, who had changed places, as Dr. Fischer and Mr. Henderson had made them take theirs by one window, now world around. What is it? cried Polly of fronzie. What is it? I'm going to have wooden shoes, announced fronzie, in a burst of confidence that included everybody in the compartment. For Dr. Fischer is going to have a pair, and every single one of my children at home, too. Grand Papa said so. Woo, whistled Jasper. Oh, what fun, sighed Polly. And you shall have a pair, too, if you want them, Polly, Grand Papa telegraphed over to her in the corner. And Jasper can, too, can't he, Grand Papa? And oh, thank you so much, cried Polly, all in one breath. I guess it's as well I shall be on hand to set the broken bones, said little Dr. Fischer, with all you children capering around in those wooden abominations. Oh, Dr. Fischer, we are not going to fall, exclaimed Jasper in disdain at the very thought. And no indeed came merrily from Polly, and then they all fell to work admiring the numberless wind mills past which their train was speeding toward Rotterdam. To think it is only six o'clock, exclaimed Polly, looking at her little traveling watch that Grand Papa had given her. Now, what a fine long day we are going to have Jasper for sightseeing in Rotterdam. As the train came to a standstill, the guards threw open compartment doors, all people poured out, calling for porters to see to their luggage, and everything was in confusion at once on the platforms. Indeed you won't, Miss Polly, declared Mr. King, overhearing it, as they waited till all was ready for them to get into the hotel coach. We are all going to spend this day at the hotel, first in getting a good breakfast, and then dear me, I shall sleep pretty much all of the morning, and I'd advise the rest of you to jump into your beds and get good naps after the experience on that atrocious steamboat last night. Must we really go to bed, cried Polly, in horror at the mere thought? Well, not exactly into your beds, laughed Mr. King, as Jasper announcing that all was ready piloted them into the coach, but you've got to rest like sensible beings, make up your mind to that. As for Fronzie, and he gallantly lifted her up to the step, she's half asleep already. She's got to have a splendid nap and no mistake. I'm not sleepy, declared Fronzie, stumbling into the high coach to sit down next to Mother Fisher. No, grand-papa dear, not a bit. And before anybody knew it, and as soon as the coach wheels spun round, she rolled over into Mamzy's lap. There she was as fast asleep as could be. End of Chapter 7


The biggest problem that I face here in Scotland is just that parents are so expensive they seem to go up by over 10% every year and this obviously isn't reflected in a wage increase. Beyond that, the quality of the housing in Scotland is just not great. Every flat being in seems to have persistent issues with disrepair you know that ranges from black mould to damp to leaky roofs to draughty windows. The biggest struggle I've found related to housing that has affected me has been the lack of safe and affordable housing. Every year that I've lived here as a student for the last three years it's been tougher and tougher to find a flat. There's a rat race every year to find a flat in time for the academic year so it can take up to six months to find a flat. We're campaigning for an immediate start to rent controls which would be a points-based system tied to the quality of property so landlords would be incentivised to keep up the pairs in our cold, drafty homes and that we would have an affordable rent for everyone in Scotland.