When little Ned Prentice put the ten-dollar bill in his mother's hand, on that pleasant Fourth of July evening, he felt like a man. His mother could hardly believe the story of Ned's getting the money just for finding a balloon, but when it was explained how valuable the balloon was, and how it sometimes takes days of searching in the woods to find one after the balloonist lets go and drops down with his parachute, she was finally convinced that the money rightfully belonged to Ned.
"No one needs it more than I do," Mrs. Prentice told Mr. Bobbsey, who had brought Ned home in the wagon, "for since the baby was sick we have hardly been able to meet our bills, it cost so much for medicine."
"We were all glad when Ned got there first,"
Harry said politely, "because we knew he deserved the reward most."
As Ned was a poor boy, and had to work on farms during vacation, his father being dead and only one brother being old enough to go to work, the reward turned out a great blessing, for ten dollars is a good deal of money for a little boy to earn at one time.
"Be sure to come up to our fireworks tonight," Harry called, as they drove away, and Ned promptly accepted the invitation.
"It has certainly been a great Fourth of July!" Uncle Daniel exclaimed, later in the evening when the children fired off their Roman candles and sky rockets and burned the red fire. The little children had beautiful pinwheels and "nigger chasers" that they put off on the porch. Then Nan had a big fire balloon that she sent up, and they watched it until it was out of sight, away over the pond and clear out of Meadow Brook.
It was a very tired lot of children that rolled off to sleep that night, for indeed it had been a great day for them all.
For a few days after the Fourth it rained, as it always does, on account of all the noise that goes up in the air to shake the clouds.
"You can play in the coach house," Aunt Sarah told the children, "but be careful not to run in and out and get wet." The children promised to remember, and soon they were all out in the big wagon house playing merrily. Freddie climbed in the wagon and made believe it was a "big fire engine." Bert attached a bell on the side for him, and when he pulled a rope this bell would clang like a chemical apparatus. Nan and Flossie had all their dolls in the pretty new carriage with the soft gray cushions, and in this the little girls made believe driving to New York and doing some wonderful shopping.
"Freddie, you be coachman," coaxed Flossie, "because we are inside and have to have someone drive us."
"But who will put out all the fires?" Freddie asked, as he clanged the bell vigorously.
"Make b'lieve they are all out," Flossie told him.
"But you can't make b'lieve about fires," argued the little fellow, "'cause they're really."
"I tell you," Nan suggested. "We will suppose this is a great big high tally-ho party, and the ladies always drive them. I'll be away up high on the box, but we ought to have someone blow a horn!"
"I'll blow the horn," Freddie finally gave in, "cause I got that big fire out now."
So Freddie climbed up on the high coach with his sisters, and blew the horn until Nan told them they had reached New York and were going to stop for dinner.
There were so many splendid things to play with in the coach house, tables, chairs, and everything, that the Bobbseys hardly knew it before it was lunch time, the morning passed so quickly.
It cleared up in the afternoon and John asked the children if they wanted to help him do some transplanting.
"Oh! we would love to," Nan answered, for she did love gardening.
The ground was just right for transplanting, after the rain, and the tender little lettuce plants were as easy to take up as they were to put down again.
"I say, Nan," John told her, "you can have that little patch over there for your garden. I'll give you a couple of dozen plants, and we will see what kind of a farmer you will make."
"Oh, thank you, John," Nan answered. "I'll do just as I have seen you doing," and she began to take the little plants in the pasteboard box from one bed to the other.
"Be careful not to shake the dirt off the roots," said John, "and be sure to put one plant in each place. Put them as far apart here as the length of this little stick, and when you put them in the ground press the earth firmly around the roots."
Flossie was delighted to help her sister, and the two girls made a very nice garden indeed.
"Let's put little stones around the path," Flossie suggested, and John said they could do this if they would be careful not to let the stones get on the garden.
"I want to be a planter too," called Freddie, running up the path to John. "But I want to plant radishes," he continued, "'cause they're the reddist."
"Well, you just wait a few minutes, sonny," said John, "and I'll show you how to plant radishes. I'll be through with this lettuce in a few minutes."
Freddie waited with some impatience, running first to Nan's garden then back to John's. Finally John was ready to put in a late crop of radishes.
"Now, you see, we make a long drill like this," John explained as he took the drill and made a furrow in the soft ground.
"If it rains again that will be a river," said Freddie, for he had often played river at home after a rain.
"Now, you see this seed is very fine," continued John. "But I am going to let you plant it if you're careful."
"That ain't redishes!" exclaimed Freddie "I want to plant redishes."
"But this is the seed, and that's what makes the radishes," John explained.
"Nope, that's black and it can't make it red?" argued Freddie.
"Wait and see," the gardener told him. "You just take this little paper of seeds and scatter them in the drill. See, I have mixed them with sand so they will not grow too thick."
Freddie took the small package, and kneeling down on the board that John used, he dropped the little shower of seeds in the line.
"They're all gone!" he told John presently; "get some more."
"No, that's enough. Now we will see how your crop grows. See, I just cover the seed very lightly like mamma covers Freddie when he sleeps in the summer time."
"Do you cover them more in the winter time too, like mamma does?" Freddie asked.
"Yes, indeed I do," said the gardener, "for seeds are just like babies, they must be kept warm to grow."
Freddie stood watching the line he had planted the seed in.
"They ain't growing yet," he said at last. "Why don't they come up, John?"
"Oh!" laughed the gardener, "they won't come up right away. They have to wake up first. You will see them above the ground in about a week, I guess."
This was rather a disappointment to the little fellow, who never believed in waiting for anything, but he finally consented to let the seeds grow and come back again later to pick the radishes.
"Look at our garden!" called Nan proudly, from across the path. "Doesn't it look straight and pretty?"
"You did very well indeed," said John, inspecting the new lettuce patch. "Now, you'll have to keep it clear of weeds, and if a dry spell should come you must use the watering can."
"I'll come up and tend to it every morning," Nan declared. "I am going to see what kind of lettuce I can raise."
Nan had brought with her a beautiful string of pearl beads set in gold, the gift of one of her aunts. She was very proud of the pearls and loved to wear them whenever her mother would let her.
One afternoon she came to her mother in bitter tears.
"Oh, mamma!" she sobbed. "The the pearls are gone,"
"Gone! Did you lose them?" questioned Mrs. Bobbsey quickly.
"Yes."
"Where?"
"I—I don't know," and now Nan cried harder than ever.
The news soon spread that the string of pearls were lost, and everybody set to work hunting for them.
"Where do you think you lost 'em?" asked Bert.
"I—I don't know. I was down in the garden, and up the lane, and at the well, and out in the barn, and over to the apple orchard, and feeding the chickens, and over in the hayfield,—and lots of places."
"Then it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack," declared Aunt Sarah.
All the next day the boys and girls hunted for the string of pearls, and the older folks helped. But the string could not be found. Nan felt very bad over her loss, and her mother could do little to console her.
"I—I sup—suppose I'll never see them again," sobbed the girl.
"Oh, I guess they'll turn up some time," said Bert hopefully.
"They can't be lost so very, very bad," lisped Flossie. "'Cause they are somewhere on this farm, ain't they?"
"Yes, but the farm is so very big!" sighed poor Nan.
For a few days Freddie went up to the garden every morning to look for radishes. Then he gave up and declared he knew John had made a mistake and that he didn't plant radishes at all. Nan and Flossie were very faithful attending to their garden, and the beautiful light green lettuce grew splendidly, being grateful for the good care given it.
"When can we pick it?" Nan asked John, as the leaves were getting quite thick.
"In another week!" he told the girls, and so they continued to watch for weeds and kept the ground soft around the plants as John had told them.
Freddie's radishes were above ground now, and growing nicely, but they thought it best not to tell him, as he might pull them up too soon. Nan and Flossie weeded his garden as well as their own and showed they loved to see things grow, for they did not mind the work of attending to them.
"Papa will come up from Lakeport to-night," Nan told Flossie; "and won't he be pleased to see our gardens!"
That evening when Mr. Bobbsey arrived the first thing he had to do was to visit the garden.
"Why, I declare!" he exclaimed in real surprise. "You have done splendidly. This is a fine lettuce patch."
Mrs. Bobbsey and Aunt Sarah had also come up to see the girls' garden, and they too were much surprised at the result of Nan's and Flossie's work.
"Oh!" screamed Freddie from the other side of the garden. "See my redishes! They growed!" and before anyone could stop him he pulled up a whole handful of the little green leaves with the tiny red balls on the roots.
"They growed! They growed!" he shouted, dancing around in delight.
"But you must only pick the ripe ones," his father told him. "And did you really plant them?" Mr. Bobbsey asked in surprise.
"Yep! John showed me," he declared, and the girls said that was really Freddie's garden.
"Now I'll tell you," Aunt Sarah remarked. "We will let our little farmers pick their vegetables for dinner, and then we will be able to say just how good they are."
At this the girls started in to pick the very biggest heads of lettuce, and Freddie looked carefully to get the very reddest radishes in his patch. Finally enough were gathered, and down to the kitchen the vegetables were carried.
"You will have to prepare them for the table," Mrs. Bobbsey said. "Let us see, girls, what a pretty dish you can make."
This was a pleasant task to Nan and Flossie, who both always loved to play at housekeeping, and when at last Nan brought the dish in to the dinner table everybody said how pretty it looked.
"Them's my redishes!" exclaimed Freddie, as he saw the pretty bright red buttons peeping out from between the lettuce leaves.
"But we can all have some, can't we, Freddie?" his father asked.
"Yes, 'course you can. But I don't want all my good redishes smothered in that big dish of green stuff," he pouted.
"Now, Nan, you can serve your vegetables," Aunt Sarah said, and then Nan very neatly put a few crisp lettuce leaves on each small plate, and at the side she placed a few of Freddie's radishes, "with handles on" as Dinah said, meaning the little green stalks.
"Just think, we've done it all from the garden to the table!" Nan exclaimed, justly proud of her success at gardening.
"I done the radishes," put in Freddie, gulping down a drink of water to wash the bite off his tongue, for his radishes were quite hot.
"Well, you have certainly all done very nicely," Mrs. Bobbsey said. "And that kind of play is like going to school, for it teaches you important lessons in nature."
The girls declared they were going to keep a garden all summer, and so they did.
It was an unusually warm night, and so nearly all the doors were left open when the folks went to bed. Freddie was so worked up over his success as a gardener he could not go to sleep.
At last he dozed off, but presently he awoke with a start. What was that strange sound ringing in his ears? He sat up and listened.
Yes, somebody must surely be playing the piano. But what funny music! It seemed to come in funny runs and curious thumps. He called out sharply, and his mother came at once to his side.
"I heard piano-playing," said Freddie, and Mrs. Bobbsey started, for she remembered how Flossie had once told her the same thing.
"Oh, Freddie, are you sure?" she asked.
"Sure," repeated the little fellow. "But it wasn't very good playing."
Mrs. Bobbsey called Uncle Daniel, and the latter lit a lamp and went below into the parlor. Nobody was at the piano or in the room.
"I've made a careful examination," he said, on coming back. "I can see nothing unusual. Some of the children left a piece of cake on the keys of the piano, that's all."
"Well, cake can't play," put in Freddie. "Maybe it was a ghost."
"No, you must have been dreaming," said his mother. "Come, go to sleep," and presently Freddie dropped off. Mrs. Bobbsey was much worried, and the next day the older folks talked the matter over; but nothing came of it.
"Tom Mason is going to bring his colt out this afternoon," said Harry to Bert, "and we can all take turns trying him."
"Oh, is it that pretty little brown horse I saw in the field back of Tom's home?" asked Bert.
"That's him," Harry replied. "Isn't he a beauty!"
"Yes, I would like first-rate to ride him, but young horses are awful skittish, aren't they?"
"Sometimes, but this one is partly broken. At any rate, we wouldn't have far to fall, for he is a little fellow," said Harry.
So the boys went down to Tom's home at the appointed time, and there they met Jack Hopkins.
"We've made a track around the fields," Tom told his companions, "and we will train him to run around the ring, for father thinks he may be a race-horse some day, he's so swift."
"You may go first," the boys told him, "as he's your horse."
"All right!" Tom replied, making for the stake where Sable, the pony, was tied. Sable marched along quietly enough and made no objections to Tom getting on his back. There was no saddle, but just the bit in the horse's mouth and attached to it a short piece of rein.
"Get app, Sable!" called Tom, snapping a small whip at the pony's side.
But instead of going forward the little horse tried to sit down!
"Whoa! whoa!" called the boys, but Tom clung to Sable's neck and held on in spite of the pony's back being like a toboggan slide.
"Get off there, get off there!" urged Tom, yet the funny little animal only backed down more.
"Light a match and set it under his nose," Harry suggested. "That's the way to make a balky horse go!"
Someone had a match, which was lighted and put where Sable could sniff the sulphur.
"Look out! Hold on, Tom!" yelled the boys all at once, for at that instant Sable bolted off like a deer.
"He's running away!" called Bert, which was plain to be seen, for Tom could neither turn him this way or that, but had all he could do to hold on the frightened animal's neck.
"If he throws him Tom will surely be hurt!" Harry exclaimed, and the boys ran as fast as they could across the field after the runaway.
"Whoa! whoa! whoa!" called everybody after the horse, but that made not the slightest difference to Sable, who just went as if the woods were afire. Suddenly he turned and dashed straight up a big hill and over into a neighbor's cornfield.
"Oh, mercy!" cried Harry, "those people are so mean about their garden, they'll have Tom arrested if there's any corn broken."
Of course it was impossible for a runaway horse to go through a field of corn and do no damage, and Tom realized this too. By this time the dogs were out barking furiously, and altogether there was wild excitement. At one end of the field there was a high board fence.
"If I could only get him there he would have to stop," thought Tom, and suddenly he gave Sable a jerk in that direction.
"Drop off, Tom, drop off!" yelled the boys. "He'll throw you against the fence!"
But at that minute the little horse threw himself against the boards in such a way that Tom slid off, yet held tightly to the reins.
The horse fell, quite exhausted.
As quickly as they could get there the boys came up to help Tom.
"Hurry!" said Harry, "there is scarcely any corn broken, and we can get away before the Trimbles see us. They're away back in the fields planting late cabbage."
Tom felt hardly able to walk, but he limped along while Harry led Sable carefully between the cornhills. It was only a few feet to the edge of the field, and then they were all safe on the road again.
"Are you hurt?" the boys asked Tom, when finally they had a chance to speak about the runaway.
"I feel as if I had dropped from a balloon onto a lot of cobblestones," Tom answered, "but I guess that's only the shaking up I got. That pony certainly can go."
"Yes indeed," Harry admitted; "I guess he doesn't like the smell of sulphur matches. Lucky he was not injured with that fall against the fence."
"I found I had to throw him," Tom said, "and I thought the fence was softer than a tree."
"I suppose we ought to make him run until he is played out," said Bert, "That's the way to cure a horse of running away."
But none of the boys felt like risking their bones even to cure Sable, so the panting animal was led to the stable and for the rest of the day allowed to think over his bad conduct.
But that was not the last of the runaway, for in the evening just after supper old Mr. Trimble paid a visit to Tom's father.
"I came over to tell you what a scallywag of a boy you've got," began the cross old man. "He and a lot of young loafers took a horse and drove him all through my cornfield to-day, and now you've got to pay the damages."
"My son is not a scallywag," Mr. Mason declared, "and if you call him names like loafer and scallywag I'll make you pay damages."
"Oh! you will, eh?" the other sneered. "Think I'm afraid of an old constable up here, do you?"
"Well now, see here," Mr. Mason said, "Be reasonable and do not quarrel over an accident. If any corn is knocked down I'll get Tom to fix it up, if it's broken down we will see what it would cost to replace it. But the boys did not do it purposely, and it was worse for Tom than anyone else, for he's all black and blue from the hard knocks he got."
At this the cross man quieted down and said, Well, he would see about it. Mr. Trimble was one of those queer people who believe all a boy is good for is doing mischief and all a boy deserves is scolding or beating. Perhaps this was because he had no sons of his own and therefore had no regard for the sons of other people.
Mr. Mason went directly to the cornfield with his neighbor. He looked carefully over every hill, and with a spade and hoe he was able to put back into place the few stalks that had been knocked down in Sable's flight.
"There now," said Mr. Mason, "I guess that corn is as good as ever. If it wants any more hoeing Tom will come around in the morning and do it. He is too stiff to move to-night."
So that ended the runaway, except for a very lame boy, Tom Mason, who had to limp around for a day or two from stiffness.
"How would you like to be a jockey!" laughed his companions. "You held on like a champion, but you were not in training for the banging you got."
"Well, I guess Sable will make a fine racehorse," said Tom, "when he's broken. But it will take someone stronger than I am to break him in."
The next afternoon all the boys went fishing. They had been out quite late the night before to find the "night walkers" for bait, as those little worms only come out of the ground after dark. Bert had a new line his father brought from Lakeport, and the others boys had nets and hooks, as most country boys who live near streams are always fond of fishing.
"Let's go over to the cove," Harry said when they all started off. "There's lots of good fish in that dark corner."
So the cove was chosen as a good spot to fish from, and soon the Bobbsey boys and their friends were lying around the edge of the deep clear stream, waiting for a bite.
Bert was the first to jerk his line, and he brought it up with such force that the chubfish on his hook slapped Harry right in the face!
"Look out!" called Harry, trying to dodge the flapping fish. "Put your catch down. He's a good one, but I don't care about having him kiss me that way again."
All the boys laughed at Bert, who was a green fisherman they said. The fish was really a very nice plump chub and weighed more than a pound. He floundered around in the basket and flapped his tail wildly trying to get away from them.
"I've got one," called Tom next, at the same moment pulling his line and bringing up a pretty little sunfish. Now "sunnies" are not considered good eating, so Tom's catch did not come up to Bert's, but it was put in the basket just the same.
"I'm going out on the springboard," August Stout announced, stepping cautiously out on the board from which good swimmers dived.
"You know you can't swim, August," said Harry, "and if you get a catch and jerk it you'll tumble in."
"Oh! I'll be all right," August answered, lying down flat on the narrow springboard and dropping his line.
For a time all the boys lay watching for a bite. No one spoke, for sometimes they say fish are very sensitive to sound and go in another direction if they hear a voice.
It was a beautiful July day, and perhaps the boys were a little lazy. At any rate, they all became so quiet the little woodpeckers on the trees went on with their work pecking at the tree bark as if no human being was in sight.
Suddenly there was a big splash!
"August!" yelled all the boys at once, for indeed August was gone from the springboard.
"Quick!" called Harry to his companions. "He can't swim!"
The next minute the boy in the water came to the top and threw up his arm. But no one was near enough to reach it.
"Strike out, August!" yelled Bert. "We're coming," and one boy after the other dropped in the water now, having thrown off their heavy clothing.
"Oh, where is he?" screamed Bert in terror, for no movement on the water's surface showed them where August was.
"Here!" cried Tom Mason, who was quite a distance out. "Here he is! Help! come quick!"
No need to urge the boys to hasten, for all realized the danger their companion was in.
"Don't pull down, August," went on Tom. "Try to help yourself, or you'll pull me under." Harry had around his neck a strong piece of rope he picked up as he made a dive into the water.
"Take hold of this," he called to August, "and we can all pull."
As the rope was put in August's hand the other boys all took hold and soon towed the unfortunate boy in.
"He's very weak," said Harry when they pulled August up on the shore. "I guess he has swallowed a lot of water. We better roll him on the grass and work his arms up and down. That will revive him."
August was indeed very weak, and had had a narrow escape. For some time his companions worked over him before he opened his eyes and spoke.
"Oh!" he murmured at last, "I'm so sick!"
"I guess you are, August," said Tom, "but you'll be all right soon." They lifted him carefully under a shady tree and removed his wet clothing.
"I'll run over to Smith's and get him something to wear home," said Harry, who hurried across lots and presently returned with an old suit of clothes. August was able to dress himself now, and as soon as he felt strong enough the boys helped him home.
"You can have my fish, August," said Bert nobly.
"And mine too," Tom added. August did not want to accept the boys' offers at first, but at last they prevailed upon him to do so.
"I think I fell asleep," said he, referring to the accident.
"Guess we all did!" added Harry, "for we only woke up when we heard the splash."
It seems the number of accidents country boys have only make them truer friends, for all the things that happened in Meadow Brook made each boy think more of his companions both in being grateful for the help given and being glad no dear friend's life was lost.
"Mother," said Harry, using that loved name to show that what he was about to say was something important, "Peter Burns is sick. He has not been able to work since the cannon exploded and gave him the shock, and all his peas are spoiling because there's no one to pick them. Mrs. Burns hired some boys yesterday, but they broke down so many vines she had to stop them; and, mother, would you mind if Bert and I picked some to-day? The sun is not hot."
"Why, my dear," replied Aunt Sarah, "it would be very nice of you to help Peter; he has always been a kind neighbor. I don't think it would do you any harm to pick peas on a cool day like this. Bert can ask his mother, and if she is satisfied you can put on your play overalls and go right along."
Both boys were given the desired permission, and when Tom and Jack heard where the Bobbseys were going they said at once they would go along.
"Are you sure your mother won't mind?" Mrs. Burns asked the boys, knowing Harry's folks did not need the money paid to pick the peas. "Of course I'm very glad to have you if your mothers are satisfied."
Soon each boy had a big basket under his arm, and was off for the beautiful field of soft green peas, that stretched along the pond bank at the side of Mrs. Burns' home. Now, peas are quite an expensive vegetable when they come in first, and farmers who have big fields of them depend upon the return from the crop as an important part of the summer's income. But the peas must be picked just as soon as they are ripe, or else they will spoil. This was why Harry got his friends to turn in to help poor Peter Burns.
"I'll go down this row and you take that." suggested Bert to Harry. "Then we can talk to each other without hollering."
"All right," Harry replied, snapping the peas off the vines and dropping them into his basket like a real farmer.
"Let's have a race," called Tom. "See who gets his basket full first."
"But no skipping for big ones," put in Jack. "You have to pick every ripe one."
The boys all started in at the top of the hill, each working two rows at a time. They were so interested in the race that scarcely a word was spoken. The peas were plentiful and ripe too, so that the baskets were filling up quickly. Mrs. Burns herself was picking, in fact she had been in the field since the very first peep of dawn, and she would be sure to stay out until the darkness would drive her in.
"You are fine pickers," she told the boys, seeing how quickly they worked. "I pay ten cents a basket, you know."
"I guess we can earn a dollar a day at this rate," laughed Tom, whose basket was almost full.
"I'm done," called Jack from his row.
"No, you're not," said Harry, "you have to cover the rim."
"Oh!" exclaimed Jack, who had just slipped between the rows. "Oh! there goes my basket."
And sure enough the big basket had been upset in Jack's fall, and most of the peas were scattered on the ground.
"Ha! ha!" laughed Bert. "I'm first. My basket is full."
"I'm next!" called Tom, picking his basket up in his arms.
"Well, I'll be last I guess," laughed Tom, trying hard to pick up the scattered peas.
"There's mine!" called Harry, and now all the boys carried their baskets to the big bag at the end of the field and dumped them in.
"It won't take long to fill the bag," said Harry, "and it will be so good for Peter to have them ready, for to-morrow is market day."
So the boys worked on right along until lunch time, each having picked four big baskets full. August Stout came along and helped some too, but he could not stay long, as he had to cut some clothes poles for his mother.
"Well, I declare!" said Mrs. Burns, looking at the three full bags the boys had picked. "Isn't that splendid! But I can't pay until Peter comes from market."
"We just did it for fun," answered Harry. "We don't want any pay."
"Indeed you must have forty cents apiece, ten cents a basket," she insisted. "See what a good load you have picked!"
"No, really, Mrs. Burns; mother wouldn't like us to take the money," Harry declared. "We are glad to have helped you, and it was only fun."
Poor Mrs. Burns was so grateful she had to wipe her eyes with her gingham apron.
"Well," she said finally, "There are some people in this world who talk about charity, but a good boy is a gift from heaven," and she said this just like a prayer of blessing on the boys who had helped her.
"The crop would have been spoiled to-morrow," remarked Tom, as he and his companions started up the road. "I'm awfully glad you thought of helping her, Harry."
It seemed all that day everything went right for the boys; they did not have even a single mishap in their games or wanderings. Perhaps it was because they felt so happy over having done a good turn for a poor neighbor.
"Say, fellows," Tom said later, while they sat on the pond bank trying to see something interesting in the cool, clear water, "what do you say if we make up a circus!"
"Fine," the others answered, "but what will be the show?"
"Animals of course," continued Tom; "we've got plenty around here, haven't we?"
"Well, some," Harry admitted. "There's Sable, for instance."
At this the boys all laughed at Tom, remembering the runaway.
"Well, I could be a cowboy, and ride him just the same," spoke up Tom. "I rode him around the track yesterday, and he went all right. He was only scared with that sulphur match when he ran away."
"A circus would be fine," Bert put in. "We could have Frisky as the Sacred Calf."
"And Snoopy as the Wild Cat," said Harry.
"And two trained goats," August added.
"And a real human bear, 'Teddy'?" suggested Jack.
"Then a cage of pigeons," went on Harry.
"Let's get them all in training," said Tom, jumping up suddenly, anxious to begin the sport.
"I tell you!" Harry planned. "We can each train our own animals and then we can bring them together in a well-organized circus."
"When will we have it?" August asked impatiently.
"About next week," Harry thought, and this was decided upon.
During the interval the boys were so busy training that they had little time for other sports, but the girls found out-door life quite as interesting as their brothers did, and now made many discoveries in and about the pretty woodlands.
"Oh, we saw the prettiest little rabbits today," Nan told her mother, after a trip in the woods. "Flossie and Freddie were sitting on an old stump when two rabbits ran right across the road in front of them. Freddie ran after them as far as he could go in the brushwood, but of course no one can go as fast as a rabbit."
"And the squirrels," Flossie told them. "I think the squirrels are the prettiest things that live in the woods. They have tails just like mamma's feather boa and they walk sitting up so cute."
"Oh, I think the rabbits are the nicest," lisped Freddie, "'cause they are Bunnies, and Bunnies bring Easter eggs."
"And we have made the loveliest fern garden up back of the swing," said Flossie. "We got a whole basket of ferns in the woods and transplanted them."
"In the center we have some lovely Jack-in the-pulpits," Nan added. "Some are light green striped, and the largest are purple with gold stripes. The Jacks stand up straight, just like real live boys preaching in a pulpit."
"Don't you think, mamma," asked Flossie, "that daisies and violets make a lovely garden? I have a round place in the middle of our wild flower bed just full of light blue violets and white daisies."
"All flowers are beautiful," their mamma told them, "but I do think with Flossie that daisies and violets are very sweet."
"And, mamma, we got a big piece of the loveliest green moss! It is just like real velvet," said Flossie. "We found a place all covered with it down by the pond, under the dark cedar trees. Nan said it wouldn't grow in our garden, but I brought some home to try. I put it in a cool dark place, and I'm going to put lots of water on it every day."
"Moss must be very cool and damp to grow," Mrs. Bobbsey replied. "I remember how disappointed I used to be when I was a little girl and tried to make it grow around my geraniums. It would always dry up and turn brown in a few days."
"Oh," called Freddie from his garden under the cherry tree, "come quick! Look at the funny bugs!"
Nan and Flossie hurried to where their little brother had dug a hole in the earth.
"They're mice!" exclaimed Nan. "Oh, aren't they cute! Let's catch them. Call Bert or Harry."
While Flossie ran to tell Bert, Nan watched the tiny mice so that they would not get away.
"It's a nest of field mice," Harry told them.
"We'll put them in a cage and have them in our circus."
"But they're my mice," cried Freddie, "and I won't let anybody have them!"
"We're only going to help you take care of them in a little box. Oh, there's the mother—catch her, Harry," called Bert.
The mother mouse was not so easy to catch, however, and the boys had quite a chase after her. At last she ran into a tin box the boys had sunk in the ground when playing golf. Here Harry caught the frightened little creature.
"I've got a queer kind of a trap," Harry said. "It's just like a cage. We can put them in this until we build a larger one. We can make one out of a box with a wire door."
The mice were the smallest, cutest things, not larger than Freddie's thumb. They hardly looked like mice at all, but like some queer little bugs. They were put in the cage trap, mother and all, and then Bert got them a bit of cheese from the kitchen.
"What! Feed mice!" exclaimed Dinah "Sakes alive, chile! you go bringing dem mice in de house to eat all our cake and pie. You just better drown dem in de brook before dey bring a whole lot more mices around here."
"We'll keep them away from the house," Bert told Dinah. "We're going to have a circus, you know, and these will be our trained mice."
Freddie, of course, was delighted with the little things, and wanted to dig for more.
"I tell you!" said Bert. "We might catch butterflies and have them under a big glass on the table with all the small animals."
"That would be good," Harry agreed. "We could catch some big brown ones and some little fancy ones. Then after dark we could get some big moths down by the postoffice electric light."
The girls, too, went catching butterflies. Nan was able to secure four or five yellow ones in the flower garden near the porch, and Flossie got two of the small brown variety in the nasturtium bed. Harry and Bert searched in the close syringa bushes where the nests are usually found.
"Oh! look at this one!" called Freddie, coming up with a great green butterfly. "Is it bird?" he asked. "See how big it is!"
It really was very large, and had such beautiful wings it might easily be mistaken for some strange bird.
"We will try to keep them alive," said Harry, "and perhaps we can get ma's big glass globe to put them in. She has one she used to put wax flowers under."
"And, oh say!" exclaimed Bert, "couldn't we have an aquarium with snakes and turtles and toads in?"
"Fine!" declared Harry. "We've got a big glass tank I used to have gold fish in. We'll get the other fellows to help catch some snakes, fish, and turtles and toads, and—and anything else that will stand water!"
Then what a time they had hunting for reptiles! It seemed each boy had a different variety on his premises. August Stout brought three turtles and Jack Hopkins caught two snakes under a big stone in his back yard. Tom Mason supplied four lovely gold fish, while Ned Prentice brought three bright green frogs.
"I can catch hop-toads," declared Freddie, and sure enough the little fellow brought two big ones and a baby toad in his hat down to the boys, who had their collection in a glass tank in the barn.
"We can't put the snakes in with the others or they'll eat them up," said Jack. "I'll get a big glass jar for the snakes."
"And say!" said Harry. "Will we charge admission to the show?"
"Sure—five cents each," said Tom, "and give the money to the fresh-air camp over on the mountain."
This was considered a good plan, and now it was only a few days more until Wednesday—the day of the circus!
News of the circus had spread from one end of Meadow Brook to the other. Every boy and girl in the place expected to get in to see the sights, and even some grown folks had made up their minds, from what they heard, there would be something interesting for them to see, and so they decided to go too.
Mrs. Bobbsey, Aunt Sarah, Dinah, and Martha had bought tickets for reserved seats (these cost ten cents each). Then Mildred Manners was going to bring her mother and her big sister, and Mabel Herold expected to have her mother with her also. Mr. Bobbsey was coming up from Lakeport purposely to see the circus, and Uncle Daniel had helped the boys put up the seats and fix things generally. A big tent had been borrowed from the Herolds; they were only out at Meadow Brook for the summer, and this tent was erected in the open field between the Bobbsey and the Mason farms, alongside the track where Tom had tried Sable.
The tent had large flaps that opened up the entire front, so that all the exhibits could be shown nicely to the people on the seats out side.
The seats were made of boards set on most anything that would hold them, with a few garden benches for reserved seats at the front.
Everything was ready, and the circus day came at last.
"Lucky it isn't raining," the boys declared as they rushed around putting the final touches to everything.
August Stout was appointed to collect the tickets, and Ned Prentice was to show the people to their seats.
Two o'clock!
Only one hour more!
Lots of children came early to get good seats. Roy Mason sat right in the front row alongside of Freddie. Nettie Prentice was on the very first bench back of the reserved seats. The Herolds came next, and had Aunt Sarah's front garden bench, the red one. Mildred Manners' folks paid ten cents each too, and they had the big green bench from the side porch.
"Give Mrs. Burns a front seat," Harry whispered to Ned, as the busy farmer's wife actually stopped her work to see what all the excitement was about.
The Bobbseys had come—Mr. Bobbsey and all,—and Dinah wore her best black bonnet.
"When will it begin?" Flossie asked, just trembling with excitement.
"I saw Harry and Bert go in the tent some time ago," whispered Nan; "and see, they are loosing the tent flap."
There was a shout of applause when Harry appeared. He actually wore a swallowtail coat and had on a choker—a very high collar—and a bright green tie. He wore long trousers too, and looked so queer even Aunt Sarah had to laugh when she saw him.
"Oh!" exclaimed all the children when they looked inside the tent.
"Isn't it grand!" whispered Flossie.
Then Bert stepped up on the soap box in the middle of the ring.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began, making a profound bow, "ladies and gentlemen."
Then everybody roared laughing.
Bert had to wait until they got through laughing at his funny costume, which was a good deal like Harry's, only the latter wore a red tie.
In a few moments Bert went on again.
"Ladies and gentlemen! Our first number is Frisky, the Sacred Calf of India!" he exclaimed, imitating that queer-voiced man called a "Barker" and used at circuses.
Snap! snap! went Bert's whip, and out from a side place, back of a big screen, came Jack Hopkins dressed like a real clown, leading our old friend Frisky, the runaway calf.
How awfully funny it was!
The calf had over him a plush portiere that reached clear down to the ground, and over each ear was tied a long-handled feather duster!
Such laughing and clapping as greeted this "first number"!
Frisky just turned around square in front and looked the people straight in the face. This funny move made Mr. Bobbsey "die laughing," as Flossie said, and Uncle Daniel too was hilarious.
"The sacred calf is too sacred to smile," laughed Uncle Daniel, while Dinah and Martha just roared.
The children didn't think they ought to laugh out loud and spoil the show; even Freddie raised his finger to Dinah.
Suddenly the clown jumped on the calf's back. He tried to stand on his head. Then he turned a somersault on to the sawdust.
Everybody clapped hard now, and the children began to shout.
But Bert snapped his whip and the clown went down on his hands and knees to apologize. Of course clowns are not supposed to speak, so Jack did everything by pantomime.
Next he came around and kissed Frisky. This made everybody roar again, and no matter what the clown did it certainly looked very funny.
Finally Bert snapped his whip three times, and the clown jumped on Frisky's back, over the plush curtain and all, and rode off.
"Wasn't that splendid!" everybody exclaimed.
"I really never enjoyed a big circus more than this!" remarked Mrs. Bobbsey to Mrs. Burns. The others all said nice things too; and then Bert announced the next turn.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he began again, "our next number will introduce to you the famous wildcats, Snoop and Fluffy. Real wildcats from the jungle, and this is the first—time—they—have ever been exhibited in—this country!"
Snap went the whip, and out came Harry with our little kitten friends one on each arm.
He whistled, and Snoop climbed on his shoulder!
He whistled again, and Fluffy climbed on the other shoulder.
This "brought the house down," as Uncle Daniel said, and there was so much noise the kittens looked frightened.
Next Harry stretched out both arms straight and the kittens carefully walked over into his hands.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Dinah. "Jest see dat Snoopy kitty-cat! If he can't do real reg'lar circus tricks! And jest to think how he cut up on de cars! 'Pears like as if he was doin' it fer jokes den too!"
"And look at Fluffy!" exclaimed Martha; "as white as Snoop is black!" Harry stooped down and let the kittens jump through his hands, which is an old but none the less a very pretty trick.
With the air of a real master, Bert snapped his whip and placed on the table a little piece of board. He rubbed something on each end (it was a bit of dried herring, but the people didn't know that), then Harry put Snoop on one end and Fluffy on the other.
"Oh, a teeter-tauter!" called Freddie, unable to restrain his joy any longer. "I bet on Snoop. He's the heaviest."
At the sound of Freddie's voice Snoop turned around and the move sent Fluffy up the air.
"Oh! oh! oh!" came a chorus from the children, but before anybody in the circus had time to interfere off went Fluffy, as hard as she could run, over the lots, home.
The next minute Snoop was after her, and Harry stood alone in the ring bowing to the "tremendous applause."
When the laughing had ceased Bert made the next announcement.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, "we will now introduce our famous menagerie. First we have the singing mice."
"They're mine!" called Freddie, but Nan insisted on him keeping quiet.
"Now you will hear the mice sing," said Bert, and as he held up the cage of little mice somebody whistled a funny tune back of the scenes.
"Good! good!" called Mr. Bobbsey. "We've got real talent here," he added, for indeed the boys had put together a fine show.
"Now you see our aquarium," went on Bert as Harry helped him bring forward the table that held the glass tank.
"Here we have a real sea serpent," he said, pointing to a good fat chub that flopped around in the water.
"Let the little ones walk right up and see them," Bert said. "Form in line and pass in this way."
Not only the children went up, but grown folks too, for they wanted a look into the tank.
"Now here are our alligators and crocodiles," announced Bert, pointing his whip at the turtles.
"And these are sea-lions," he said, pointing out Freddie's hop-toads.
At each announcement everybody laughed, but Bert went on as seriously as if he were deaf.
"In this separate tank," he declared, "we have our boa-constrictors, the largest and fiercest in the world. This is the first time one of this specimen has ever been captured alive. Note the dangerous stripe on his back!"
It was Jack's snakes that came in for this description, and the girls were quite afraid of them, although they were in a glass jar.
"Well, I declare!" said Mrs. Burns. "If this isn't a sure-enough circus. I often paid a half-dollar when I went to see things no better than these!"
Everybody thought everything was splendid, and the boys were well paid for their efforts.
"Now," said Bert, "here are our crystal fish from the deep sea!" (These were Tom's goldfish.) "You will notice how bespangled they are. They say this comes from the fish eating the diamonds lost in shipwrecks."
"What a whopper!" called someone back of the scenes whose voice sounded like Tom Mason's.
Snap! went Bert's whip, and the boys did not interrupt him again.
"The last part of our menagerie is the cage of prize butterflies," said Bert. "These butterflies are rare and scarce and—"
"Hard to catch!" remarked someone not on the programme.
"Now there will be ten minutes' intermission," the announcer said, "so all may have time to see everything in the menagerie.
"After that we will give you the best number of the programme, our chariot race."
"Oh, that's going to be Tom!" exclaimed Roy.
"No, it's Bert," said Flossie.
"Well, Jack has our goat-wagon," said Mildred.
"I guess there'll be a whole lot in the race," said Freddie, "and maybe they'll have firemen."
During the intermission August sold a whole big basket of peanuts, and the people wanted more. They knew all the money was to go to the fresh-air camp, which was probably the reason they bought so generously.
"I don't know when I have enjoyed myself so much," declared Mrs. Manners, fanning herself. "I had no idea boys could be so clever."
"That's because you only have girls," laughed Mrs. Bobbsey.
"Don't you think we ought to give them a treat for working so hard?" whispered Mrs. Herold to Aunt Sarah. "I would be delighted to have them all to dinner," she added, in her society way, for the Herolds were quite rich.
"That would be very nice, I'm sure," Aunt Sarah replied; "boys always have good appetites after having a lot of fun."
All this time there was plenty of noise back of the scenes, and it was evident something big was being prepared.
Presently Bert and Harry came out and lowered the tent flap, first making sure all the little sightseers were outside.
"They're comin'!" exclaimed Freddie, clapping his fat hands.
"Oh, I'm just so nervous!" whispered Flossie! "I hope none of the animals will get loose."
"Now, ladies and gentlemen," called Tom Mason, appearing at the tent, "if you will just turn round the other way in your seats and face that ring we will give you an exhibition of cowboy life on the plains!"