“Right here?” cried Van, and stamping with his foot to point out the exact place; “at this door, Jane?”
“Yes, yes,” said Jane; “at that very door,” and then she went into the dining-room to her work.
“Oh dear me!” cried Van, and flying out on the veranda, he began to peer wildly up and down the drive. “And they've gone to some splendid place, I know, and wouldn't tell us. That's just like Percy!” he added vindictively, “he's always stealing away! don't you see 'em, Joel? oh, do come out and look!”
“'Tisn't any use,” said Joel coolly, sitting down on the chair Van had just vacated, and swinging his feet comfortably; “they're miles away if they've been gone half an hour. I'm goin' up-stairs,” and he sprang up, and energetically pranced to the stairs.
“They aren't up-stairs!” screamed Van, in scorn, bounding into the hall. “Don't go; I know that they've gone down to the museum!”
“The what?” exclaimed Joel, nearly at the top, peering over the railing. “What's that you said—what is it?”
“A museum,” shouted Van, “and it's a perfectly elegant place, Joel Pepper, and Percy knows I like to go; and now he's taken Ben off; and he'll show him all the things! and they'll all be old when I take him—and—and—oh! I hope the snakes will bite him!” he added, trying to think of something bad enough.
“Do they have snakes there?” asked Joel, staring.
“Yes, they do,” snapped out Van. “They have everything!”
“Well, they shan't bite Ben!” cried Joel in terror. “Oh! do you suppose they will?” and he turned right straight around on the stairs, and looked at Van.