There were thousands like him all over the land of the maple . `` Let the Piper come and welcome , '' he cried , waving his hand . `` I 'LL follow him gladly round and round the world . '' CHAPTER I GLEN `` NOTES '' AND OTHER MATTERS It was a warm , golden-cloudy , lovable afternoon . In the big living-room at Ingleside Susan Baker sat down with a certain grim satisfaction hovering about her like an aura ; it was four o'clock and Susan , who had been working incessantly since six that morning , felt that she had fairly earned an hour of repose and gossip . Susan just then was perfectly happy ; everything had gone almost uncannily well in the kitchen that day . Dr. Jekyll had not been Mr. Hyde and so had not grated on her nerves ; from where she sat she could see the pride of her heart -- the bed of peonies of her own planting and culture , blooming as no other peony plot in Glen St. Mary ever did or could bloom , with peonies crimson , peonies silvery pink , peonies white as drifts of winter snow . Susan had on a new black silk blouse , quite as elaborate as anything Mrs. Marshall Elliott ever wore , and a white starched apron , trimmed with complicated crocheted lace fully five inches wide , not to mention insertion to match . Therefore Susan had all the comfortable consciousness of a well-dressed woman as she opened her copy of the Daily Enterprise and prepared to read the Glen `` Notes '' which , as Miss Cornelia had just informed her , filled half a column of it and mentioned almost everybody at Ingleside . There was a big , black headline on the front page of the Enterprise , stating that some Archduke Ferdinand or other had been assassinated at a place bearing the weird name of Sarajevo , but Susan tarried not over uninteresting , immaterial stuff like that ; she was in quest of something really vital . Oh , here it was -- `` Jottings from Glen St. Mary . '' Susan settled down keenly , reading each one over aloud to extract all possible gratification from it . Mrs. Blythe and her visitor , Miss Cornelia -- alias Mrs. Marshall Elliott -- were chatting together near the open door that led to the veranda , through which a cool , delicious breeze was blowing , bringing whiffs of phantom perfume from the garden , and charming gay echoes from the vine-hung corner where Rilla and Miss Oliver and Walter were laughing and talking . Wherever Rilla Blythe was , there was laughter . There was another occupant of the living-room , curled up on a couch , who must not be overlooked , since he was a creature of marked individuality , and , moreover , had the distinction of being the only living thing whom Susan really hated . All cats are mysterious but Dr. Jekyll-and-Mr . Hyde -- `` Doc '' for short -- was trebly so . He was a cat of double personality -- or else , as Susan vowed , he was possessed by the devil . To begin with , there had been something uncanny about the very dawn of his existence . Four years previously Rilla Blythe had had a treasured darling of a kitten , white as snow , with a saucy black tip to its tail , which she called Jack Frost .
Susan disliked Jack XXXXX , though she could not or would not give any valid reason therefor .
Blythe Frost Jekyll Notes Oliver Susan assassinated hour morning whiffs