Oscar succeeded in rubbing enough of the mysterious article upon his
lips to enable him to tell what it was. It proved to be a piece of
pepper, a plate of which Oscar had found in the closet.

This little experiment, however, did not leave George in a very
pleasant frame of mind. It was some time before he got over his
blubbering and pouting. Oscar called him a "cry-baby," for making such
a fuss about a little bit of pepper, which epithet did not aid him much
in forgetting the injury he had received.

After awhile, quiet and harmony were in a measure restored. Ralph and
George got their school-books, and began to look over the lessons they
were to recite in the morning; but Oscar not only remained idle,
himself, but seemed to try to interrupt them as much as possible, by
his remarks. By-and-bye, finding they did not take much notice of his
observations, he took from his jacket pocket a small tin tube, and
commenced blowing peas through it, aiming them at his brothers, at
Bridget, and at the lamp. Ralph, after two or three had taken effect
on his face, got up in a pet, and took his book up stairs to the
sitting-room. George scowled and scolded, as the annoying pellets flew
around his head, but he did not mean to be driven away by such small
shot. Bridget, too, soon lost her patience, as the peas rattled upon
the newly-swept floor.

"Git away with yer pays, Oscar," said she; "don't ye be clutterin' up
the clane floor with 'em, that's a good b'y."

"They aint 'pays,' they are _peas_," replied Oscar; "can't you say
peas, Biddy?"