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 Beginning PHP, Apache,
MySQL® Web Development

Michael Glass
Yann Le Scouarnec
Elizabeth Naramore
Gary Mailer
Jeremy Stolz
Jason Gerner
 Beginning PHP, Apache,
MySQL® Web Development
 Beginning PHP, Apache,
MySQL® Web Development

Michael Glass
Yann Le Scouarnec
Elizabeth Naramore
Gary Mailer
Jeremy Stolz
Jason Gerner
Beginning PHP, Apache, MySQL® Web Development
Published by
Wiley Publishing, Inc.
10475 Crosspoint Boulevard
Indianapolis, IN 46256
www.wiley.com
Copyright © 2004 by Michael Glass, Yann Le Scouarnec, Elizabeth Naramore, Gary Mailer, Jeremy
Stolz, and Jason Gerner
Published by Wiley Publishing, Inc., Indianapolis, Indiana
Published simultaneously in Canada
Library of Congress Control Number: 2004101426
ISBN: 0-7645-5744-0
Manufactured in the United States of America
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
1MA/SV/QS/QU/IN
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form
or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise, except as per-
mitted under Sections 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act, without either the prior writ-
ten permission of the Publisher, or authorization through payment of the appropriate per-copy fee to
the Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Danvers, MA 01923, (978) 750-8400, fax (978)
646-8600. Requests to the Publisher for permission should be addressed to the Legal Department, Wiley
Publishing, Inc., 10475 Crosspoint Blvd., Indianapolis, IN 46256, (317) 572-3447, fax (317) 572-4447,
E-Mail: [email protected].

LIMIT OF LIABILITY/DISCLAIMER OF WARRANTY: THE PUBLISHER AND THE AUTHOR MAKE NO REPRESEN-
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THIS WORK AND SPECIFICALLY DISCLAIM ALL WARRANTIES, INCLUDING WITHOUT LIMITATION WAR-
RANTIES OF FITNESS FOR A PARTICULAR PURPOSE. NO WARRANTY MAY BE CREATED OR EXTENDED BY
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NOT ENGAGED IN RENDERING LEGAL, ACCOUNTING, OR OTHER PROFESSIONAL SERVICES. IF PROFES-
SIONAL ASSISTANCE IS REQUIRED, THE SERVICES OF A COMPETENT PROFESSIONAL PERSON SHOULD BE
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MAY MAKE. FURTHER, READERS SHOULD BE AWARE THAT INTERNET WEBSITES LISTED IN THIS WORK MAY
HAVE CHANGED OR DISAPPEARED BETWEEN WHEN THIS WORK WAS WRITTEN AND WHEN IT IS READ.

For general information on our other products and services or to obtain technical support, please con-
tact our Customer Care Department within the U.S. at (800) 762-2974, outside the U.S. at (317)
572-3993 or fax (317) 572-4002.
Wiley also publishes its books in a variety of electronic formats. Some content that appears in print
may not be available in electronic books.
Trademarks: Wiley, the Wiley logo, Wrox, the Wrox logo, Programmer to Programmer, and related
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About the Authors

Michael “BuzzLY” Glass

Michael Glass has been a gladiator in the software/Web site development arena for more than eight
years. He has more than ten years of commercial programming experience with a wide variety of tech-
nologies, including PHP, Java, Lotus Domino, and Vignette StoryServer. He divides his time between
computer programming, playing pool in the APA, and running his Web site at www.ultimatespin.com.
You can usually find him slinking around on the PHPBuilder.com forums, where he is a moderator with
the nickname BuzzLY.

Thanks, Staci, for putting up with long and late hours at the computer. Elizabeth and Jason, it wouldn’t
have been the same project without you two. And thanks to my code testers at www.ultimatespin.com:
Spidon, Kaine, Garmy, Spidermanalf, Ping, Webhead, and FancyDan. You guys rock!

To Donna and Gerry, who have influenced my life more than they can ever know, and who taught me
the importance of finishing what you’ve started.

Yann “Bunkermaster” Le Scouarnec

Yann is the senior developer for Jolt Online Gaming, a British gaming company. He is a moderator at
PHPBuilder.com and a developer of open source PHP software for the gaming community. He has also
worked for major software corporations as a software quality expert.

I thank all the innocent bystanders who got pushed around because of this project: Debra and Nancy,
who were patient enough not to have homicidal thoughts; and my wife and kids, who barely saw me for
six months.

Elizabeth Naramore
Elizabeth has been programming with computers since a very young age, and, yes, she remembers when
software was packaged on cassette tapes. Graduating from Miami University at age 20 with a degree in
Organizational Behavior, she found a world of opportunity awaiting her—in corporate marketing. Her
first love was always computers, however, and she found herself sucked back to the programming world
in 1997 through Web site design and development (once a computer geek, always a computer geek).
While she plans to return to Miami to get her Masters in Computer Science, she currently stays busy run-
ning several Web sites. Her main focus is in e-commerce and running www.giftsforengineers.com.

Elizabeth has spent the past six years developing Web sites and coordinating all phases of Web site pub-
lication and production. She is currently a moderator at PHPBuilder.com, an online help center for PHP.
Her other interests include poetry, arts and crafts, camping, and juggling the many demands of career,
family, and the “other duties as assigned” that come along in life. She lives in Cincinnati, Ohio, with her
husband, beautiful daughter, and a new baby on the way.
Gary “trooper” Mailer
After graduation from university in 1998, Gary worked in a major software house in central London as a
quality assurance engineer, and also as the departmental Web developer (using ASP). This gave him a
taste of Web development. After a few years, he made the jump into full-time Web development and has
not looked back since.

Gary has worked in a few different sectors, including communications (Siemens) and hotels (Hilton), as
well as in “traditional” development houses.

He is currently a freelance developer for a European communications company. Gary has been and con-
tinues to be an active member of and contributor to the PHPBuilder.com site.

Jeremy “stolzboy” Stolz

Jeremy is a Web developer at Cloverfish Inc. (www.cloverfish.net), a Web development company in
Fargo, North Dakota. Jeremy is primarily a PHP/MySQL developer, but he has also worked with many
other languages. When not working, he frequents the Internet and tries to keep up his programming
skills. He is a contributor to and moderator at PHPBuilder.com. He also frequents many other computer-
related Web sites to keep his skills sharp and up to date.

Thanks to my employer and colleagues for giving me the time and space to participate in this project.
Also, thanks to Debra Williams Cauley at Wiley for getting me involved in this project for Wrox.

I dedicate this book to my wife and family for helping me get through the long hours of preparation and
writing.

Jason “goldbug” Gerner

Jason currently spends his days working as a Web developer in Cincinnati and burns free time com-
plaining about lack of support for Web standards and abusing XML. He can often be found lurking in
the PHPBuilder.com discussion forums, waiting to chime in with nagging comments about CSS or code
efficiency.
 Credits
Acquisitions Editor Executive Editorial Director
Debra Williams Cauley Mary Bednarek

Development Editor Project Coordinator

Nancy Stevenson Kristie Rees

Production Editor Graphics and Production Specialists

Eric Newman Sean Decker
Carrie Foster
Technical Editor Joyce Haughey
Jason Gerner Jennifer Heleine
Kristin McMullan
Copy Editor
Nancy Rapoport Quality Control Technicians
Andy Hollandbeck
Editorial Manager Susan Moritz
Mary Beth Wakefield Carl William Pierce
Brian Walls
Vice President & Executive Group Publisher
Richard Swadley Proofreading and Indexing
TECHBOOKS Production Services
Vice President and Executive Publisher
Robert Ipsen

Vice President and Publisher

Joseph B. Wikert
 Contents

Introduction 1

Part I: Getting Started

Chapter 1: Introduction and Installation Configuration 9

Installation Configuration 9
Brief Intro to PHP, Apache, MySQL, and Open Source 10
What Is Open Source? 10
How the Pieces of the AMP Module Work Together 11
Apache 12
PHP 13
MySQL 13
PHP5: The Future of PHP 14
A Brief Overview of PHP5 14
How Changing to PHP5 Affects This Book 14
Installation Configuration of Apache 14
Customizing Your Installation 15
Installation Configuration of PHP 17
Testing Your Installation 18
Customizing Your Installation 19
Installation Configuration of MySQL 20
Testing Your Installation 20
Configuring Your Installation 23
Try It Out: Setting Up Privileges 27
Where to Go for Help and Other Valuable Resources 28
Help within the Programs 28
Source Web Sites 28
AMP Installers 29
Summary 29
Contents

Part II: Movie Review Web Site

Chapter 2: Creating PHP Pages 33

Overview of PHP Structure and Syntax 34
How PHP Fits with HTML 34
The Rules of PHP Syntax 34
The Importance of Coding Practices 35
Creating Your First Program 36
Try It Out: Using echo 37
Using HTML to Spice Up Your Pages 38
Integrating HTML with PHP 39
Try It Out: Using PHP within HTML 39
Considerations with HTML Inside PHP 40
Using Constants and Variables to Spice Up Your Pages 41
Overview of Constants 41
Try It Out: Using Constants 42
Overview of Variables 43
Try It Out: Using Variables 43
Passing Variables Between Pages 45
Try It Out: Using URL Variables 47
Try It Out: Passing the Visitor’s Username 52
What Is a Cookie? 55
Try It Out: Setting a Cookie 56
Passing Through Forms 58
Try It Out: Using Forms to Get Information 59
Using if/else Arguments 63
Using if Statements 63
Try It Out: Using if 64
Using if and else Together 65
Try It Out: Using if and else 65
Using Includes for Efficient Code 65
Try It Out: Adding a Welcome Message 66
Using Functions for Efficient Code 68
Try It Out: Working with Functions 68
A Word About Arrays 73
Array Syntax 73
Sorting Arrays 73
Try It Out: Sorting Arrays 74
foreach Constructs 74
Try It Out: Adding Arrays 75

x
 Contents
While You’re Here . . . 79
Try It Out: Using the while Function 80
Alternate Syntax for PHP 83
Alternates to the <?php and ?> php Tags 83
Alternates to the echo Command 83
Alternates to Logical Operators 84
Alternates to Double Quotes: Using heredoc 84
Alternates to Incrementing Values 84
Summary 84
Exercises 85

Chapter 3: Using PHP with MySQL 87

Overview of MySQL Structure and Syntax 87
MySQL Structure 88
MySQL Syntax and Commands 94
How PHP Fits with MySQL 94
Connecting to the MySQL Server 95
Looking at a Ready-Made Database 96
Try It Out: Creating a Database 96
Querying the Database 101
WHERE, oh WHERE 102
Try It Out: Using the SELECT Query 102
Working with PHP and Arrays of Data: foreach 105
Try It Out: Using foreach 105
A Tale of Two Tables 106
Try It Out: Referencing Individual Tables 106
Try It Out: Joining Two Tables 107
Helpful Tips and Suggestions 109
Documentation 109
Using PHPMyAdmin 109
Summary 110
Exercises 110

Chapter 4: Using Tables to Display Data 111

Creating a Table 111
Try It Out: Defining the Table Headings 111
Populating the Table 114
Try It Out: Filling the Table with Data 114
Try It Out: Putting it All Together 116
Try It Out: Improving Our Table 117

xi
Contents
Who’s the Master? 120
Try It Out: Adding Links to the Table 120
Try It Out: Adding Data to the Table 122
Try It Out: Calculating Movie Takings 123
Try It Out: Displaying the New Information 124
Try It Out: Displaying Movie Details 126
A Lasting Relationship 128
Try It Out: Creating and Filling a Movie Review Table 128
Try It Out: Querying for the Reviews 129
Try It Out: Displaying the Reviews 131
Summary 133

Chapter 5: Form Elements: Letting the User Work with Data 135
Your First Form 136
Try It Out: Say My Name 136
FORM Element 138
INPUT Element 139
Processing the Form 140
Driving the User Input 141
Try It Out: Limiting the input choice 141
INPUT Checkbox Type 144
One Form, Multiple Processing 145
Try It Out: Radio Button, Multi-Line List Boxes 145
Radio INPUT Element 149
Multiple Submit Buttons 150
Basic Input Testing 150
Dynamic Page Title 151
Manipulating a String as an Array to Change the Case of the First Character 151
Ternary Operator 151
Using Them All 152
Try It Out: Hidden and password input 152
The Skeleton Script 160
Default Response 160
Adding Items 160
Summary 161

Chapter 6: Letting the User Edit the Database 163

Preparing the Battlefield 163
Try It Out: Setting Up the Environment 164
Inserting a Simple Record from phpMyAdmin 166
Try It Out: Inserting Simple Data 166

xii
Exploring the Variety of Random
Documents with Different Content
 It was still well short of supper-time, and so they stopped at Bob’s
to see the tennis-court. The surface layer was almost finished, and
two sturdy posts for the net, startlingly, shiningly green, had been
sunk. While they admired, Mr. Starling joined them from the house,
and Laurie thanked him for his assistance with the quarry company.
“Glad to have helped, Laurie,” replied Bob’s father. “And that
reminds me. Seen the pear-trees?”
“Pear-trees? No, sir. Not to—to notice them.”
“Come and look at them.” Mr. Starling led Laurie around the corner
of the new court and along the further walk to where a few fruit-trees,
their branches still bare, occupied one corner of the garden. Laurie
viewed the trees interestedly, but failed to note anything remarkable,
and he turned to his guide for enlightenment. Mr. Starling was
selecting two bills from a long black wallet, keeping his back to the
others. He thrust the bills into Laurie’s hand.
“We’d like to help a little, my sister and I,” he said. “Use that in any
way you like, Laurie, but you needn’t say where it came from. If you
need more, let me know.”
“But we don’t really need it, sir,” protested the boy. “We’ve got
twelve dollars, and I don’t believe—”
“Put it in your pocket,” insisted Mr. Starling. “You can find some
way of using it for Miss Comfort’s—er—comfort!” He raised his voice.
“Look promising, don’t they? Lots of fruit this year, I guess. Thomas
is quite a gardener, if you take his word for it.” He turned Laurie
about with a hand on his shoulder and paced back toward the
others. “We feel sort of sorry for that little woman,” he added,
lowering his voice again. “Hard to pull up stakes at her age, I guess.
Ought to do what we can for her, Laurie. Come to me again if you
need some more.”
At supper Dr. Hillman asked the twins to come to his study, and
there he produced a pink slip of paper from a desk drawer and
handed it to Laurie. “My sister and I have wanted to help ever since
we first learned of Miss Comfort’s—ah—embarrassment, but have
been somewhat at a loss to know how to do so. She is greatly
averse to anything resembling charity, as you probably know. To-day
we heard of your interest in the matter, Laurence, and of your—ah—
ingenious solution of the lady’s problem, and it occurred to us that if
we handed a small contribution to you you would doubtless be able
to use it to advantage and at the same time—ah—consider it
confidential.”
“Twenty-five more!” exclaimed Laurie when they were back in No.
16. “Forty from Mr. Starling. Seventy-seven in all! What’ll we do with
it?”
“Blessed if I know!” replied Ned, “unless we install steam heat and
open plumbing!”
 CHAPTER XVIII
MISS COMFORT COMES ABOARD

B ehold the Pequot Queen at ten o’clock Saturday morning!

She is freshly painted from end to end on the shoreward side,
gleaming white, with bright yellow trim. The other side is to be done
later. Just now the painter, a sure-enough professional painter from
Joyce & Connell’s, is finishing the upper deck.
The gangway is resplendent, too, for Brose did that himself
yesterday, using plenty of drier. The deck is protected by bits of
board to walk on, although by evening the buff paint will be hard
enough. The doors are to have a second coat later, but as they are
they look pretty fine. Wonderful what paint will do, isn’t it? You’d
hardly think this was the same old Pequot Queen.
But there’s the cabin yet. Linoleum shining with new varnish, walls
and ceiling creamy white, blue and white curtains at the windows,
Miss Comfort’s old stove blackened and polished by Kewpie until
you’d never suspect it was not brand-new! And that’s a real sink in
the corner, even though it isn’t working yet. You just can’t hurry a
plumber! There’ll be a pump alongside, of course. Miss Comfort will
get her drinking-water at the Parmenter’s across the road. They’re
real friendly folks. Mr. Parmenter hauled the coal that’s in the bin in
the boiler-room himself. That shelving is all new. Brose and Bob put
that up. The hanging lamp in the center is one Mrs. Deane had. Miss
Starling sent those flowers. Looks pretty nice, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t
mind living here yourself? Well, neither would I! And look at the view
from those windows; sun sparkling on the water, boats passing!
Think Miss Comfort’ll like it?
That was a busy, bustling morning. As early as Ned and Laurie
and Kewpie reached the Pequot Queen, Polly and Mae and Brose
Wilkins were before them. Although much had been accomplished
yesterday, much remained to be done. Bob arrived an hour later,
bearing a box of flowers from his aunt. Brose, singing as he worked,
dropped his hammer to touch up a spot with a paint-brush,
abandoned paint-brush to seize again on hammer or screw-driver.
Kewpie, eager for employment, got in every one’s way and
accumulated a great deal of fresh white pigment every time he
turned around. The plumber, having set the sink up, went away, and
the awning man arrived to take measurements. The awning was to
cover the rear half of the roof-deck. There had once been an awning
all over the roof, and, although the frame had disappeared, the
sockets into which the uprights had been screwed remained. To put
an awning over the whole roof-deck was beyond their means, but
they could well afford to protect half of it. Brose was going to make
two flower-boxes to fit the benches along the railing and fill them with
earth so that, when summer came, Miss Comfort would have a
veritable roof-garden up there. Brose thought of all sorts of things,
practical and otherwise. One of the practical things was a place to
dry clothes on the small deck forward, where he stretched four
lengths of line from a post set in the flag-pole socket at the extreme
bow to four galvanized iron hooks screwed to the front of the wheel-
house.
At eleven Peter Brown arrived with Miss Comfort’s worldly
belongings. Peter was small and very black; Peter’s horse was small
and presumably white; and Peter’s wagon was small and extremely
ramshackle. How he managed to get so much on it was a question!
A narrow black walnut bedstead in several sections, together with its
appurtenances; a drop-leaf mahogany table; a funny old trunk with a
rounded top; five chairs of assorted shapes and sizes; a packing-
case of cooking-utensils; a barrel of china and crockery; a walnut
what-not; a wash-boiler filled with miscellany; a marble clock
wrapped in a patchwork quilt; some books; three pictures in faded
gilt frames; a huge bundle of bedding; a roll of frayed straw matting;
some braided rugs; a spotless deal table and various other smaller
sundries.
Peter and Brose unloaded at the end of the gangway, and the
boys bore the things aboard. In the cabin Polly and Mae directed the
bestowing of them, wiping everything clean with a dust-cloth as it
was set in place. The packing-case was left on deck, as was the
barrel, but the rest of the things went inside, and when they were all
there there was just room for the two girls to move cautiously about!
But half an hour later there was another tale to tell. The cooking-
utensils were hung on nails, the dishes were on the shelves, the bed
was set up and dressed, the trunk was under the deal table, the rugs
were on the floor, the pictures were hung, the drop-leaf table stood
under the hanging lamp, and order had emerged from chaos. Of
course, as Polly acknowledged, the place did look a trifle crowded,
but she guessed Miss Comfort wouldn’t mind. Two articles alone
defeated their efforts, the what-not and the marble clock. The what-
not, built to fit in a corner, looked sadly out of place at the foot of the
bed, and the marble clock simply cried aloud for a mantel to rest on.
But the corners were all occupied, and there was no mantel; and so
the what-not remained where they had put it, and the clock for the
time being reposed on a window-sill.
Brose hustled the empty case and barrel to the boiler-room, which
compartment held also a supply of kindling-wood and a quarter of a
ton of coal and so didn’t look one bit like a hen-house! Miss Comfort
was to have an early lunch at Mrs. Deane’s, and she and the Widow
were to arrive at the boat about half-past twelve. At exactly twelve
Polly flipped her dust-cloth for the last time, the painter stowed his
belongings in the wheel-house and called it a day, Brose
relinquished his hammer, and seven satisfied and hungry workers
gave their attention to the luncheon that the girls had prepared. To
have dined at school would have prevented the twins and Kewpie
from being on hand at Miss Comfort’s arrival, and they didn’t want to
miss that!
There was plenty to eat, and full justice was done to the viands. It
was a jolly, happy meal, too, for the Pequot Queen looked as none of
them had ever hoped to see it look, and, as Brose remarked, it would
look a sight better before they got through with it. “When the
awning’s up and there’s flowers along the rail there— What color’s
the awning, Laurie?”
 “Red and white.”
“Great! And then there’ll be little window-boxes under the two
windows on this side. I’m going to paint ’em white with green
crisscrosses on ’em; sort of lattice-effect, you know. And then I was
thinking this morning that it wouldn’t be hard to make a little flower-
bed on each side of the bridge there later. I could plant morning-
glories or something so’s they’d climb along on the hand-rail. And
some bright things, too, like geraniums or zinnias.”
“Brose,” exclaimed Laurie, “you’re a wonder!” He held aloft a
paper cup filled with hot chocolate. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give
you Mr. Brose Wilkins, without whose assistance—no, directorship
this undertaking would have been a—but a partial success. To his
untiring zeal and—er—”
“There they come!” cried Kewpie excitedly.
And there they did come, Miss Comfort in her best black dress—
and probably her only black dress—and Mrs. Deane, Miss Comfort
at least a yard in advance, Mrs. Deane trying hard to recover the
distance. Polly jumped to the rail and “yoo-hooed” and waved. Miss
Comfort heard and, it seemed, saw the Pequot Queen for the first
time. She stopped short and stared from a half-block away. Mrs.
Deane regained her lost ground and stared, too. For a long moment
the two stood motionless there. Then Miss Comfort started on again,
this time at a funny little half-trot. Once more Mrs. Deane was
outdistanced!
Polly and Ned and Bob ran across the gangway to meet them. The
others remained on deck, Kewpie grinning broadly, Laurie only half
smiling, Mae emitting little whispered ejaculations, and Brose, his
comforting hammer once more in hand, humming a funny sort of
tune under his breath. Miss Comfort’s face was a study as she
paused at the end of the gangway and swept the scene with rapt
gaze. Then, still silent, she declined Ned’s offered assistance and
walked firmly and proudly across the gangway and stepped down
upon her own deck!
 It was not until she stood at the cabin door and looked inside that
the little lady became articulate. Then she drew a deep breath and
said, “Well, I never!” in a voice that was scarcely more than a
whisper. Then she was inside, with the others clustering about her
and every one talking at once, Polly apologizing for the clock, Mae
explaining about the what-not, Laurie promising water for the sink
not later than Tuesday, Mrs. Deane exclaiming repeatedly to no one
in particular: “Why, I had no idea! I simply had no idea!”
After a moment or two Miss Comfort seated herself in the walnut
rocker with the gray horsehair upholstering and sighed again. “It’s
too beautiful for words,” she said. She reached out for Polly’s hand
and drew it to her, patting it with little quick gestures. “I never thought
it would be like this, my dear, never, never! I just can’t find any words
to thank you all; not now; perhaps some day—” She searched for
and found her tiny black-bordered handkerchief. Kewpie frowned
and turned toward a window. Gee, she was getting leaky again! But,
as before, Laurie provided a diversion.
“Here’s the fellow that did more than the rest of us put together,”
he said. Miss Comfort looked, and—
“Why, Brose Wilkins!” she cried. “You, too! Why, I didn’t see you!”
Brose shook hands, his broad smile again threatening his ears.
“Yes, Miss Pansy, it’s me,” he said. “But you don’t want to believe
what Laurie tells you. I ain’t done much but swing a hammer. Now,
how you feeling, ma’am?”
“Very happy, Brose,” replied Miss Comfort softly. “Happier than a
person has any right to be at my time of life, I guess. Isn’t it
wonderful?” Her gaze swept over the little white room with its blue
and white curtains aflutter in the sunlit breeze and all her friendly
belongings about. “Doesn’t the picture of grandfather’s ship look
beautifully there, Brose?”
Brose agreed that it did. Every one else agreed that it did.
Secretly, however, Bob, who had hung the article, told himself that
that representation of a barkantine with all sails set plowing through
a muddy-green sea had probably been done by the village sign-
painter!
After that Miss Comfort arose and minutely inspected every inch of
her domain, listening to Laurie’s somewhat involved explanation of
the water system not yet installed, to Ned’s story of the roof-garden
above, to Polly’s reason for placing the wash-boiler here and the
knife-board there, and to Mae’s confidences regarding the
whereabouts of the linen. Then she was taken off along the deck to
see where the coal and wood were kept. At intervals Laurie took a
slip of paper from a pocket and surreptitiously wrote on it. When they
reached the boiler-room he added the mysterious word “coal scuttle”
to several other words already on the paper.
In due course they all returned to the cabin and sat or stood
around and did a good deal of talking and exclaiming and laughing
until, at last, Mrs. Deane jumped up suddenly and announced in a
shocked voice that she must get right back and that she didn’t know
what Miss Billings would be thinking of her! That began a general
exodus. Polly said that she and Mae would be down after supper to
see if everything was all right. She had already offered to remain
during the afternoon, but Miss Comfort had almost pathetically
declined the offer. Miss Comfort, as was evident to all, wanted to be
left quite alone for a while.
“You’re sure you won’t be nervous at night,” asked Mrs. Deane
anxiously, “all alone here like this.”
“Nervous?” repeated Miss Comfort placidly. “Not a bit. No more
than I was in that empty house up there. I never was one of the
scary kind, and down here, with the friendly water around me, I’ll
never be lonesome again.”
“I’ll be looking in now and then,” said Brose. “I’m liable to be
passing most any time, Miss Pansy, and, whenever you want
anything just let me know.”
“And to-morrow,” said Mae, “we’re all coming down to call on you
in your new home, Miss Comfort.”
 “Do, my dear, do! Come to-morrow afternoon, and I’ll make some
tea for you. In the morning, of course, I’ll be at church.”
“Church?” said Mrs. Deane. “I wouldn’t try it unless I felt real well,
my dear. It’s a long walk and a real steep one.”
“All the better,” replied Miss Comfort. “All my life I’ve lived so close
to the church that it wasn’t any effort at all. Sometimes I think that if
religion wasn’t made so easy for us we’d think more of it. ’Twon’t do
me a mite of harm to have to walk a little on a Sunday in order to
worship the Lord. And I guess maybe He will approve of it.”
Going back, Laurie, walking beside Polly, said with a relieved sigh:
“Gee, I was glad to get away without having her ask questions, Polly!
I thought every minute she’d want to know where everything came
from and how we had paid for it!”
“I know,” said Polly thoughtfully. “It’s sort of queer she didn’t, too.
Because she must know that white-enameled sinks and pumps and
awnings and such things don’t just happen.”
“Well, I suppose she just doesn’t stop to think,” mused Laurie.
“And I hope she won’t. It would be fierce if she got insulted and went
to the poor-farm after all!”
“Oh, she wouldn’t do that!” declared Polly in horror. After a
moment she added: “I’ll just bet you anything, Laurie, that she did
notice and that she means to ask! She’s just waiting until she can
speak to you alone, I believe.”
Laurie groaned. “Then she’s never going to get the chance,” he
muttered. Polly looked doubtful.
 CHAPTER XIX
LAURIE IS CORNERED

T he following afternoon saw the boys, minus Kewpie, escorting

Polly and Mae to the Pequot Queen. Mrs. Deane had begged off.
One mustn’t expect all April days to be fine, and this particular day
proved it. It had showered off and on during the forenoon, and now,
at half-past three, the rain was coming down hard and fast. The girls
wore rain-coats over their Sunday gowns, and Ned and Laurie were
draped in colorful yellow oilskins. Bob, in an old Mackinaw jacket,
huddled under the dripping eaves of one of the two umbrellas. It
seemed a particularly long way to the Pequot Queen under these
circumstances, and it was a rather bedraggled quintet that at last
filed into the cabin. Once there, however, discomforts were forgotten.
A fire in the stove defied the dampness of the outside world; a kettle
sang cozily; the white light that entered the open windows flashed on
polished surfaces; and the bowl of flowers on the table added a
cheerful note of color. And then there was the little hostess, all
smiles of welcome and concerned murmurs over dripping coats and
wet skirts.
The coats were laid aside quickly, and the visitors found seats,
Polly and Mae occupying the same arm-chair, since there were but
five chairs in the cabin and not even Laurie would have thought of
sitting on Miss Comfort’s immaculate blue and white spread! The
lack of a sixth chair troubled Miss Comfort considerably. Bob pointed
out that even had she possessed such a thing there wouldn’t have
been room for it and some one would have had to sit out on deck!
And Polly and Mae assured in chorus that they didn’t mind sitting
together, not one bit.
Miss Comfort was brimming over with pride and happiness.
Everything was too wonderful for words! And sleep— She held up
her hands in something almost like consternation. Why, she hadn’t
slept the way she had slept last night for years and years! She had
had her supper late because she had been so busy fixing things up,
and then she had sat at the window there for a long time watching
the lights on the water and on the further shore; and suddenly she
couldn’t keep her eyes open a minute longer, it had seemed, and
she had gone to bed and fallen right to sleep and slept and slept!
“It was so wonderful lying there and listening to the water lapping
against the boat that I tried my best to keep awake. But I couldn’t.
And then this morning when I awoke there was a beautiful fog and I
could hear bells sounding and now and then a great, deep fog-horn
on some boat. It was perfect! From my bed I can look out of the
windows and see the river, and when the sun came out for a little
while, quite early, it was beautiful!”
“Yes, ma’am,” agreed Laurie. “For myself, I never cared much for
fog-horns, but maybe the kind they have here are different. I’m
awfully glad you slept so well, though, and—and like it.”
“Like it! Oh, Mr. Laurie, I can never, never thank you enough for
finding this beautiful home for me!”
“Oh, that wasn’t anything,” muttered Laurie.
“Why, Laurie Turner,” exclaimed Polly, “it was wonderful! The rest
of us might have passed this boat a thousand times and never
thought of making it into a—an apartment!”
“Please, Polly dear,” Miss Comfort protested, “not an apartment! I
want it just what it is, a boat—my boat. You don’t think, do you”—she
appealed to Laurie—“that it would do to change the name? Of
course the Pequot Queen is very pretty, but I would so like to call it
after grandfather’s ship there.” Her gaze went to the oil-painting on
the wall.
“Don’t see why not,” said Laurie. “All we’d have to do would be to
paint out the old name. What was your grandfather’s ship called,
ma’am?”
“The Lydia W. Frye,” replied Miss Comfort raptly. “He named her
after my grandmother. She was one of the New Jersey Fryes.”
 Laurie had a slight fit of coughing, which he recovered from so
abruptly, when he encountered Ned’s scowl, that he nearly choked.
“A nice name,” declared Ned sternly. “I’m sure we could change the
letters on the bow.”
“Oh, now I don’t believe I’d want you to go to all that trouble,” said
Miss Comfort. “I’ll just call it the Lydia W. Frye to myself, and that will
do quite well. Now I’m going to give you some tea.”
There were some cookies and sweet crackers with it, and for
these the hostess apologized. She hadn’t had time to do any baking
yet, she explained, and Brose had got these at the store for her last
evening. To-morrow, however, she was going to get to work, for she
had several orders that just had to be filled at once. It was after the
first cup of tea—and it did seem that Miss Comfort’s tea was very,
very different from any other tea, tasting, as Ned put it, like tea
instead of leather—that Laurie looked inquiringly at his brother and
Ned nodded and the twins arose and stood with their backs to the
door. Then Ned bowed and announced: “Original poetical
composition by the Turner Brothers entitled—”
He paused and looked at Laurie. “What is it entitled?” he
demanded. Laurie shook his head.
“We forgot to entitle it.”
“Entitled,” continued Ned, “entitled ‘Ode.’”
Polly clapped delightedly, and Bob inquired facetiously, “How
much?” The twins bowed in unison, and Ned recited the first line and
Laurie the second, after which they again alternated.

“O Pequot Queen, your stormy voyaging ’s o’er.

No more you’ll brave the wave’s and wind’s
discomfort.
Here, nestled ’gainst a peaceful, kindly shore,
You’re parlor, bedroom, bath for our Miss Comfort!”

Applause was loud and prolonged. The twins bowed repeatedly,

their hands on their hearts, their eyes languishing gratitude on the
appreciative audience.
 “Why,” exclaimed Miss Comfort, with the tone of one making a
surprising discovery, “it was poetry!”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Laurie defensively, “but we warned you!”
Miss Comfort looked a trifle puzzled until Polly laughingly assured
her that she mustn’t mind Laurie, that he was always saying silly
things. Whereupon the little lady said disapprovingly: “You mustn’t
say that, Polly. I’m sure Mr. Laurie isn’t silly. Sometimes I don’t quite
understand him, my dear, but I’m sure he isn’t silly!”
“You’re a perfect dear!” replied Polly rapturously.
Laurie had seized his cap and Mae’s umbrella. “Back in five
minutes,” he said from the doorway.
“Hold on! Where are you going?” demanded Ned.
“Got to see Brose Wilkins a minute about—about something.”
“Well, make it peppy,” said Ned. “We’re not going to wait for you
long, old son.”
Laurie’s five minutes was more like fifteen, but he returned at last
and they said good-by and were almost on their way when Miss
Comfort sent Laurie’s heart down toward his shoes. “Mr. Laurie,” she
asked apologetically, “I wonder if you’d mind stopping in to see me
for a minute to-morrow.”
“Why—why, no, ma’am,” stammered Laurie. “I’d be pleased to.”
He exchanged meaning glances with Polly. Then Polly asked: “Why
don’t you stay now, Laurie, if Miss Comfort would like you to? We’ll
leave one of the umbrellas.”
Laurie viewed her in strong disapproval but accepted the situation.
“I don’t need any umbrella, though,” he said sadly. “I’ve got my coat,
and it isn’t raining so hard now.” He and Miss Comfort watched the
others depart, and then she motioned to a chair.
“Won’t you sit down, please?” she asked. Laurie sat down, but on
the extreme edge of the chair as though to lessen the space
between him and the door. “You see,” Miss Comfort went on after a
pause, “I’ve wanted to ask you ever since Wednesday how you were
doing all this, but I didn’t like to when the others were around. Now I
do wish you’d tell me, please.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Laurie gulped. “What—was it you wanted to know,
ma’am?”
“Why, who has—has met the expense of all the changes and
improvements you have made here, Mr. Laurie.”
“Oh,” said Laurie. “Oh! Well, you see, Miss Comfort, we haven’t
done so much after all. Now, you take that hanging lamp. Mrs.
Deane had that and wasn’t using it—”
“Yes, I know about the lamp,” interrupted Miss Comfort gently, “but
there’s that sink and the awning and—and so many, many things.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Laurie glanced longingly at the doorway. “Well, now,
you’d be surprised how little things like that cost. You take that stove-
piping, Miss Comfort. Maybe you thought that was new pipe, but it
wasn’t. It was second-hand. We just shined it up, you see!” Laurie
waved an all-encompassing hand. “Same way with the other things
—more or less.”
“That sink isn’t second hand, is it?” she asked.
“Well, no, ma’am, not the sink.” Laurie smiled engagingly. “But
sinks aren’t expensive. I was surprised, honest, I was, ma’am, when
we got the price on that! Why, seems like things don’t cost half what
they did a couple of years ago!”
“Mr. Laurie,” said Miss Comfort firmly, sitting very straight in her
chair and looking at him earnestly, “you shouldn’t try to deceive me. I
know that you and the others have spent a great deal of money, and
I’d feel horribly if I thought it was all yours. Now, please tell me.”
“Well—well, it’s like this. We did put in a few dollars, Miss Comfort,
but not enough to mention, and we were so glad to do it that you
oughtn’t to care a mite. Then—then two or three other folks, grown-
ups, you understand, wanted to help out, and there was quite a good
deal to be done, and so we took the money and promised not to tell
who’d given it. You see, Miss Comfort, they wanted to see you
comfortable here. And they were folks who could afford to do it, you
know. And so—well, that’s how it was,” Laurie concluded, observing
Miss Comfort anxiously.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said. “If you promised not to
divulge the names of the people who were so kind, I shan’t expect
you to. After all—” But she stopped and was silent a moment. Then,
“I’ve always said that I would never accept charity,” she went on
musingly, “but—well, I don’t know. Maybe I haven’t any right to be
proud. Then, somehow, this doesn’t seem so—so degrading. It
seems more like—well, just kindness, don’t you think so?”
“Yes, I do,” agreed Laurie emphatically. “And that’s just what it is,
ma’am.”
“I don’t feel about it as I would have a few years ago, anyhow,”
said Miss Comfort thoughtfully. Then she smiled. “Thanks for telling
me, Laurie. You don’t mind my calling you just that, do you? You’ve
been so—so— Won’t you have some more cookies?”
“No, ma’am, thank you.” Laurie felt that after going through the last
few minutes he deserved a whole plate of cookies, but he resisted
the temptation. Too many cookies weren’t good for a fellow who
hoped—sometimes—to be a catcher!
He was so relieved at the outcome of the talk that he didn’t realize
it was pouring harder than it had poured all day until he had turned
into Ash Street. When he did, he gave up the idea of joining the
others at the Widow’s and headed as straight as Orstead’s
wandering streets would let him head for East Hall, arriving there
extremely wet despite his oilskin coat. Sounds told him that many of
the fellows had already returned, and at the head of the first flight he
encountered Elk Thurston and his room-mate, Jim Hallock, coming
down. Hallock said, “Hello, Nod,” and then Elk asked: “How’s the
great pitcher coming on? Going to spring him on us pretty soon?”
Laurie said, “Not for another week or so, Elk,” and heard Elk
laughing as he and Jim went down.
A little later, when Ned and Kewpie arrived in No. 16, Laurie held
their undivided attention.
 Monday morning and recitations once more. Monday afternoon
and baseball practice again. Things went well on the field, for the
candidates for the team had returned with renewed ambitions.
Besides, there was a game with Benson High School two days later,
and that was something to work for. Laurie managed to hit the ball
on the nose every time he stood at the batting-net, and later on, in
the five-inning practice game, he caught for an inning and, so far as
he could discern, didn’t do so badly.
Back in No. 16 at half-past five, he found Kewpie awaiting him,
Kewpie looking disheveled, weary, but triumphant. “I’ve got it!” he
announced excitedly before Laurie was well through the door. “I’ve
got the hang of it at last! That guy’s a corker, Nod, and he says I’ll
know as much about it as he does in another month!”
“Restrain your enthusiasm, Kewpie,” urged Laurie. “No use telling
the whole dormitory about it. These walls aren’t awfully thick, and I
can hear Elk tramping around up-stairs like a hippopotamus right
now.” But Laurie looked very much pleased and settled himself to
hear Kewpie’s gladsome tidings. And when Ned came in a little later
he heard them all over again, and after Kewpie had reluctantly torn
himself away the twins agreed that, even allowing for a slight
exaggeration of the facts as set forth by their late visitor, stock in the
Association for the Reclamation of Kewpie Proudtree had advanced
many points. The next afternoon the lady members of that
association were also taken into the secret, and there was much
rejoicing.
Polly and Mae learned the news at Bob’s tennis tea, for that long
heralded affair was at last taking place. The court was finished and
marked, the new creamy-white net was up, and, near at hand, a
wicker table bore the paraphernalia of afternoon tea. Practice kept
Laurie away until well after five, and Kewpie was missing for a time,
too, but Ned and George Watson and Hop Kendrick and Hal Pringle
and half a dozen other boys were there from the start. The gentler
sex was represented by Polly, Mae, and Bob’s aunt, the latter
presiding at the tea-table. Bob beat George Watson, 6 to 4, in an
exhibition set, and then Mae and Hal Pringle played Polly and Hop
Kendrick. After that there was tea and sandwiches and cake, and
then Bob took on Hal and Lee, and the set went to 9 to 7 before Bob
finally broke through on Hop’s service and won. The court was all
that Bob’s fondest hope had pictured. Mr. Starling arrived before the
party broke up and went through three games with Mae to the delight
of the audience, by that time swelled with the arrival of Kewpie and
Laurie.
Benson won from Hillman’s the next afternoon, 13 to 7. The home
team played rather ragged ball in the field, although the pitching of
George Pemberton and Nate Beedle was satisfactory enough. Nate
relieved Pemberton in the fifth inning, too late to prevent three runs
that put the visitors well in the lead. Laurie saw the game from the
bench, for Cas Bennett wore the mask from start to finish.
On Saturday afternoon Hillman’s met Tudor Hall School and
played a much steadier game. The Blue dislodged the opposing
pitcher in the third inning and put the game safely away with six runs.
Later four more were added, and the total of ten was more than
enough to win, even though Tudor Hall staged a rally in the first of
the ninth and hit Croft, who had succeeded Pemberton in the
seventh, to all corners of the field and got three runners across the
plate before Pat Browne, in right field, pulled down a fly and ended
the fracas. Again Laurie was a non-combatant, although Elk
Thurston caught during the final two innings and behaved rather well
during that hectic ninth.
The following afternoon Ned, as self-appointed secretary and
treasurer, rendered an accounting of the Pequot Queen fund,
showing a balance in the treasury of $1.42. All bills had been paid,
and the question of disposing of the balance came before the
meeting. Kewpie’s suggestion was typical.
“Pay it to Miss Comfort,” he said, “and we’ll trade it out in cake!”
“It isn’t ours,” Ned reminded him sternly. “Besides it’s not for you to
be thinking of cake, old dear.”
It was Polly’s suggestion that was finally adopted. They would give
the vast sum to Brose Wilkins to be used for the purchase of flower-
seeds for the boxes and beds. That momentous question settled,
they set forth to call at the Pequot Queen, or, as Laurie reminded
them they should now call the boat, the Lydia W. Frye.
April became May, and the Hillman’s School nine went on playing
Wednesday and Saturday games, losing not quite as often as it won.
Laurie twice donned the mask in contests and did as well, perhaps a
bit better, than he had expected to. He did very well at receiving the
ball from the pitcher, and he was remarkably steady at all times, but
he was weak when it came to holding the runners on bases, his
heaves to second being erratic, to say the least. At bat, however, he
was improving fast, and when May was a fortnight old there was not
much to choose between him and Elk Thurston as a catcher,
although possibly the latter’s greater age and size inspired more
confidence. Perhaps Coach Mulford thought so, for Elk was given
more chances than Laurie behind the bat.
When Hillman’s went to play Benson, most of the school
accompanied the team. Polly and Mae went, too, escorted by Ned
and George Watson. Hillman’s won, but not until the tenth inning,
and then by 3 to 2. Nate Beedle pitched fine ball that day. Hillman’s
returned to Orstead tired but happy.
Just a week later Polly celebrated her sixteenth birthday with a
party attended by Mae, Ned, Bob, Kewpie, and, since the affair was
held in the forenoon, Laurie. And, of course, Mrs. Deane was
present. Miss Comfort had been invited and in lieu of her presence
had provided a gorgeous birthday cake. Antoinette, wearing a new
pink ribbon that exactly matched her pink nose and ears, and
Towser, the cat, may also said to have attended. Polly received
many presents and was very bright of eye and very happy.
The celebration continued in the afternoon when the entire party
attended the game with Cole’s School, although, Laurie, of course,
did not sit with the others in the stand but watched the nine tragic
innings from the bench. Nate Beedle had a bad day; Croft, who
succeeded him, was far worse; and Pemberton alone of the pitching
staff showed any class. Pemberton got through the final two innings
without allowing a hit, but the damage was already done. Cole’s won
by the scandalous score of 16 to 3! Polly remarked, a trifle
unreasonably, that she thought, since it was her birthday, Hillman’s
might have won!
Rain caused the cancellation of the game with Highland the next
Wednesday, and Laurie accompanied Kewpie on his mysterious
pilgrimage to the home of Brose Wilkins. Those pilgrimages had
been made daily, excepting Sunday for about a month now, and
never once, rain or shine, had Kewpie sought to avoid them.
Whatever it was that kept the two boys on the dilapidated Wilkins
premises for more than an hour this Wednesday afternoon, it must
have been something important, for the rain never ceased for a
moment during that time, and, knowing Kewpie as we do, it seems
fair to assume that only an important mission could have kept him
from the snug window-seat of No. 15 East Hall on such a day.
Returning, their way took them within a few yards of the Pequot
Queen. The river beyond looked gray and sullen; the rain was falling
steadily and remorselessly; the new paint of the transformed ferry
boat gleamed with moisture. But from the smoke-pipe in the roof a
cheerful trail of gray ascended, and at the windows the blue and
white curtains shone cozily. Once they saw the small, erect form of
Miss Comfort, white-aproned, pass a casement and, or so Kewpie
solemnly averred, heard the sound of a faintly sung song. There was
such an atmosphere of warmth and hominess and cheer about the
quaint abode that Kewpie lagged noticeably and would have
welcomed a suggestion from his companion that they stop a moment
and say “Hello” to the occupant. But it was close to supper-time and
Laurie went sternly on, refusing to notice Kewpie’s deep sigh.
They reached the entrance of the dormitory just as Ned got there.
Ned carried his golf-bag and was very wet indeed. Laurie viewed him
commiseratingly. “You poor forlorn fish,” he said. “Don’t tell me
you’ve been playing golf a day like this!”
“Sure have,” answered Ned cheerfully. “Won, too. Had Peyton
three up on the seventh, too, old son.”
“Well, you certainly are a nut! Didn’t either of you know it was
raining?”
 “Didn’t you?” countered Ned. “Look at your own shoes!”
“We,” replied Laurie with dignity, “were engaged in a sensible and
important occupation, not merely amusing ourselves!”
“Were, eh?” Ned grinned. “What important part did you play in it?”
“I,” began Laurie, “contributed my—er—my—”
“He chased the ball,” chuckled Kewpie as he disappeared to No.
15.