There was another bother! Mr.Peterkin stopped."Was anything broke?" exclaimed Mrs.Peterkin."Was something forgotten?"asked the lady from Philadelphia.
No! But Mr.Peterkin didn't know the way; and here he was leading all the party, and a long row of carriages following.
They stopped, and it seemed nobody knew the way to Strawberry Nook, unless it was the Gibbons boys, who were far behind.They were made to drive up, and said that Strawberry Nook was in quite a different direction, but they could bring the party round to it through the meadows.
The lady from Philadelphia thought they might stop anywhere, such a pleasant day, but Mr.Peterkin said they were started for Strawberry Nook, and had better keep on,So they kept on.It proved to be an excellent place, where they could tie the horses to a fence.Mrs.Peterkin did not like their all heading different ways;it seemed as if any of them might come at her, and tear up the fence, especially as the little boys had their kites flapping round.
The Tremletts insisted upon the whole party going up the hill; it was too damp below.So the Gibbons boys, and the little boys and Agamemnon, and Solomon John, and all the party had to carry everything up to the rocks.The large basket of "things" was very heavy.
It had been difficult to lift it into the wagon, and it was harder to take it out.But with the help of the driver, and Mr.Peterkin, and old Mr.Bromwick, it was got up the hill.
And at last all was arranged.Mr.Peterkin was seated in his chair.
The other was offered to the lady from Philadelphia, but she preferred the carriage cushions; so did old Mr.Bromwick.And the table-cloth was spread,-for they did bring a table-cloth,-and the baskets were opened, and the picnic really began.
The pickles had tumbled into the butter, and the spoons had been forgotten, and the Tremletts' basket had been left on their front door-step.But nobody seemed to mind.Everybody was hungry, and everything they ate seemed of the best.The little boys were perfectly happy, and ate of all the kinds of cake.Two of the Tremletts would stand while they were eating, because they were afraid of the ants and the spiders that seemed to be crawling round.And Elizabeth Eliza had to keep poking with a fern leaf to drive the insects out of the plates.The lady from Philadelphia was made comfortable with the cushions and shawls, leaning against a rock.Mrs.Peterkin wondered if she forgot she had been forgotten.
John Osborne said it was time for conundrums, and asked: "Why is a pastoral musical play better than the music we have here?
Because one is a grasshopper, and the other is a grass-opera!"Elizabeth Eliza said she knew a conundrum, a very funny one, one of her friends in Boston had told her.It was, "Why is-" It began, "Why is something like-"-no, "Why are they different?" It was something about an old woman, or else it was something about a young one.It was very funny, if she could only think what it was about, or whether it was alike or different.
The lady from Philadelphia was proposing they should guess Elizabeth Eliza's conundrum, first the question, and then the answer, when one of the Tremletts came running down the hill, and declared she had just discovered a very threatening cloud, and she was sure it was going to rain down directly.
Everybody started up, though no cloud was to be seen.
There was a great looking for umbrellas and water-proofs.Then it appeared that Elizabeth Eliza had left hers, after all, though she had gone back for it twice.
Mr.Peterkin knew he had not forgotten his umbrella, because he had put the whole umbrella-stand into the wagon, and it had been brought up the hill, but it proved to hold only the family canes!
There was a great cry for the "emergency basket," that had not been opened yet.
Mrs.Peterkin explained how for days the family had been putting into it what might be needed, as soon as anything was thought of.
Everybody stopped to see its contents.It was carefully covered with newspapers.First came out a backgammon-board."That would be useful," said Ann Maria, "if we have to spend the afternoon in anybody's barn." Next, a pair of andirons."What were they for?" "In case of needing a fire in the woods," explained Solomon John.Then came a volume of the Encyclop?dia.But it was the first volume, Agamemnon now regretted, and contained only A and a part of B, and nothing about rain or showers.Next, a bag of pea-nuts, put in by the little boys, and Elizabeth Eliza's book of poetry, and a change of boots for Mr.Peterkin; a small foot-rug in case the ground should be damp; some paint-boxes of the little boys'; a box of fish-hooks for Solomon John; an ink-bottle, carefully done up in a great deal of newspaper, which was fortunate, as the ink was oozing out; some old magazines, and a blacking-bottle; and at the bottom, a sun-dial.It was all very entertaining, and there seemed to be something for every occasion but the present.Old Mr.Bromwick did not wonder the basket was so heavy.It was all so interesting that nobody but the Tremletts went down to the carriages.
The sun was shining brighter than ever, and Ann Maria insisted on setting up the sun-dial.Certainly there was no danger of a shower, and they might as well go on with the picnic.But when Solomon John and Ann Maria had arranged the sun-dial, they asked everybody to look at their watches, so that they might see if it was right.And then came a great exclamation at the hour: "It was time they were all going home!"The lady from Philadelphia had been wrapping her shawl about her, as she felt the sun was low.But nobody had any idea it was so late! Well, they had left late, and went back a great many times, had stopped sometimes to consult, and had been long on the road, and it had taken a long time to fetch up the things, so it was no wonder it was time to go away.But it had been a delightful picnic, after all.
