It was after ten o'clock when Riley and Bok got back to the house with their load of provisions to find every door locked, every curtain drawn, and the bolt sprung on every window. Only the cellar grating remained, and through this the two dropped their bundles and themselves, and appeared in the dining-room, dirty and dishevelled, to find the party at table enjoying a supper which Field had carefully hidden and brought out when they had left the house.
Riley, cold and hungry, and before this time the victim of Field's practical jokes, was not in a merry humor and began to recite paraphrases of Field's poems. Field retorted by paraphrasing Riley's poems, and mimicking the marked characteristics of Riley's speech. This started Sol Smith Russell, who mimicked both. The fun grew fast and furious, the entire company now took part, Mrs. Field's dresses were laid under contribution, and Field, Russell, and Riley gave an impromptu play. And it was upon this scene that Mrs. Field, after a continuous ringing of the door-bell and nearly battering down the door, appeared at seven o'clock the next morning!
It was fortunate that Eugene Field had a patient wife; she needed every ounce of patience that she could command. And no one realized this more keenly than did her husband. He once told of a dream he had which illustrated the endurance of his wife.
"I thought," said Field, "that I had died and gone to heaven. I had some difficulty in getting past St. Peter, who regarded me with doubt and suspicion, and examined my records closely, but finally permitted me to enter the pearly gates. As I walked up the street of the heavenly city, I saw a venerable old man with long gray hair and flowing beard. His benignant face encouraged me to address him. 'I have just arrived and I am entirely unacquainted,' I said. 'May I ask your name?'
"'My name,' he replied, 'is Job.'
"'Indeed,' I exclaimed, 'are you that Job whom we were taught to revere as the most patient being in the world?'
"'The same,' he said, with a shadow of hesitation; 'I did have quite a reputation for patience once, but I hear that there is a woman now on earth, in Chicago, who has suffered more than I ever did, and she has endured it with great resignation.'
"'Why,' said I, 'that is curious. I am just from earth, and from Chicago, and I do not remember to have heard of her case. What is her name?'
"'Mrs. Eugene Field,' was the reply.
"Just then I awoke," ended Field.