Five Little Peppers at School Part 50

Whereupon Pickering found his way to the long mirror. "I never was a beauty," he said.

"And now you are less," laughed Jasper.

"But I'm good," said Pickering solemnly, and flinging himself down to his books.

"You can't study with such eyes," cried Jasper, tugging at the book.

"Clear out!"

"I'm not going. Pick, your eyes aren't much bigger than pins."

"But they're sharp--just as pins are. Leave me alone." Pickering squirmed all over his chair, but Jasper had the book.

"Never mind, I'll fly at my history, then," said Pickering, possessing himself of another book; "that's the beauty of it. I'm as backward in all of my lessons as I am in one. I can strike in anywhere."

"You are not backward in any now," cried Jasper in glee, and performing an Indian war dance around the table. "Forward is the word henceforth,"

he brought up dramatically with another lunge at Pickering.

"Get out. You better go home."

"I haven't the smallest intention of going," replied Jasper, and successfully coming off with a second book.

"Here's for book number three," declared Pickering--but too late. Jasper seized the remaining two, tossed them back of him, then squared off.

"Come on for a tussle, old fellow. You're not fit to study--ruin your eyes. Come on!" his whole face sparkling.

It was too much. The table was pushed one side; books and lessons, Mr.

Faber and college, were as things never heard of. And for a good quarter of an hour, Pickering, whose hours of exercise had been much scantier of late, was hard pushed to parry all Jasper's attacks. At the last, when the little clock on the mantel struck four, he came out ahead.

"I declare, that was a good one," he exclaimed in a glow.

"Particularly so to you," said Jasper ruefully. "You gave me a regular bear-hug, you scamp."

"Had to, to pay you up."

"And now you may study," cried Jasper gaily; and s.n.a.t.c.hing his books, he ran off.

"Oh, Pick," putting his head in at the door.

"Yes?"

"If the lessons are done, come over this evening, will you?"

"All right." The last sound of Jasper's feet on the stairs reached Pickering, when he suddenly left his chair and flew into the hall.

"j.a.p--oh, I say, j.a.p!" Then he plunged back into his room to thrust his head out of the window. "j.a.p!" he howled, to the consternation of a fat old gentleman pa.s.sing beneath, who on account of his size, finding it somewhat inconvenient to look up, therefore waddled into the street, and surveyed the house gravely.

Pickering slammed down the window, leaving the old gentleman to stare as long as he saw fit.

"I can't go over there to-night, looking like this." He pranced up to the mirror again, fuming every step of the way, and surveyed himself in dismay. There was some improvement in the appearance of his countenance, to be sure, but not by any means enough to please him. His pale blue eyes were so small, and their surroundings so swollen, that they reminded him of nothing so much as those of a small pig he had made acquaintance with in a visit up in the country. While his nose, long and usually quite aristocratic-looking, had resigned all claims to distinction, and was hopelessly pudgy.

"Jasper knows I can't go in this shape," he cried in a fury. "Great Caesar's ghost! I never supposed it banged a fellow up so, to cry just once!" And the next moments were spent in sopping his face violently with the wet towel, which did no good, as it had been plentifully supplied with that treatment before.

At last he flung himself into his chair. "If I don't go over, j.a.p will think I haven't my lessons, so that's all right. And I won't have them anyway if I don't tackle them pretty quick. So here goes!" And presently the only sound to be heard was the ticking of the little clock, varied by the turning of his pages, or the rattling of the paper on which he was working out the problems for to-morrow.

"Oh dear me! Jasper," Polly exclaimed about half-past seven, "I don't believe Pickering is coming."

"He hasn't his lessons, I suppose," said Jasper. "You know I told him to come over as soon as they were done. Well, Polly, we agreed, you know, to let him alone as to invitations until the lessons were out of the way, so I won't go over after him."

"I know," said Polly, "but oh, Jasper, isn't it just too elegant for anything, to think that Mr. Faber says it's all right with him?"

"I should think it was," cried Jasper. "Now if he only keeps on, Polly."

"Oh, he must; he will," declared Polly confidently. "Well, we can put off toasting marshmallows until to-morrow night."

About this time, Pickering, whose lessons were all done, for he had, as Mr. Faber had said, "a fine capacity" to learn, was receiving company just when he thought he was safe from showing his face.

"Let's stop for Pickering Dodge," proposed Alexia, Clare having run in for her to go over to Polly Pepper's, "to toast marshmallows and have fun generally."

"All right; so we can," cried Clare. So they turned the corner and went down to the Cabot mansion, and were let in before the old butler could be stopped.

Pickering, whose uncle and aunt were out for the evening, had felt it safe to throw himself down on the library sofa. When he saw that John had forgotten what he told him, not to let anybody in, he sprang up; but not before Alexia, rushing in, had cried, "Oh, here you are! Come on with us to Polly Pepper's!" Clare dashed in after her.

"Ow!" exclaimed Pickering, seizing a sofa pillow, to jam it against his face.

"What _is_ the matter?" cried Alexia. "Oh, have you a toothache?"

"Worse than that," groaned Pickering behind his pillow.

"Oh, my goodness me!" exclaimed Alexia, tumbling back. "What can it be?"

"You haven't broken your jaw, Pick?" observed Clare. "I can't imagine that."

"I'll break yours if you don't go," said Pickering savagely, and half smothered, as he tried to keep the pillow well before the two pairs of eyes.

This was a little difficult, as Clare, seeing hopes of running around the pillow, set himself in motion to that end. But as Pickering whirled as fast as he did, there was no great gain.

"Well, if I ever did!" exclaimed Alexia, quite aghast.

And the next moment Pickering, keeping a little opening at one end of the pillow, saw his chance; darted out of the door, and flinging the pillow the length of the hall, raced into his own room and slammed the door, and they could hear him lock it.

"Well, if I ever did!" exclaimed Alexia again, and sinking into the first chair, she raised both hands.

"What's got into the beggar?" cried Clare in perplexity, and looking out into the hall, as if some help to the puzzle might be found there.

"Well, I guess you and I, Alexia, might as well go to Polly Pepper's,"

he said finally.