CHAPTER XIV
SOMEBODY GETS LOST
Putting all care behind them, the young folks ran down the hill, with avery lively dog gambolling beside them, and took a delightfullytantalizing survey of the external charms of the big tent. But peoplewere beginning to go in, and it was impossible to delay when they cameround to the entrance.
Ben felt that now "his foot was on his native heath," and the superb airof indifference with which he threw down his dollar at theticket-office, carelessly swept up the change, and strolled into thetent with his hands in his pockets, was so impressive that even big Samrepressed his excitement and meekly followed their leader, as he ledthem from cage to cage, doing the honors as if he owned the wholeconcern. Bab held tight to the flap of his jacket, staring about herwith round eyes, and listening with little gasps of astonishment ordelight to the roaring of lions, the snarling of tigers, the chatter ofthe monkeys, the groaning of camels, and the music of the very brassband shut up in a red bin.
Five elephants were tossing their hay about in the middle of themenagerie, and Billy's legs shook under him as he looked up at the bigbeasts whose long noses and small, sagacious eyes filled him with awe.Sam was so tickled by the droll monkeys that the others left him beforethe cage and went on to see the zebra, "striped just like Ma's muslingown," Bab declared. But the next minute she forgot all about him in herraptures over the ponies and their tiny colts; especially one mite of athing who lay asleep on the hay, such a miniature copy of its littlemouse-colored mamma that one could hardly believe it was alive.
"Oh, Ben, I must feel of it!--the cunning baby horse!" and down wentBab inside the rope to pat and admire the pretty creature, while itsmother smelt suspiciously at the brown hat, and baby lazily opened oneeye to see what was going on.
"Come out of that, it isn't allowed," commanded Ben, longing to do thesame thing, but mindful of the proprieties and his own dignity.
Bab reluctantly tore herself away to find consolation in watching theyoung lions, who looked so like big puppies, and the tigers washingtheir faces just as puss did.
"If I stroked 'em, wouldn't they purr?" she asked, bent on enjoyingherself, while Ben held her skirts lest she should try the experiment.
"You'd better not go to patting them, or you'll get your hands clawedup. Tigers do purr like fun when they are happy, but these fellers neverare, and you'll only see 'em spit and snarl," said Ben, leading the wayto the humpy carrels, who were peacefully chewing their cud and longingfor the desert, with a dreamy, far-away look in their mournful eyes.
Here, leaning on the rope, and scientifically biting a straw while hetalked, Ben played showman to his heart's content till the neigh of ahorse from the circus tent beyond reminded him of the joys to come.
"We'd better hurry along and get good seats before folks begin to crowd.I want to sit near the curtain and see if any of Smitthers's lot are'round."
"I ain't going way off there; you can't see half so well, and that bigdrum makes such a noise you can't hear yourself think," said Sam, whohad rejoined them.
So they settled in good places where they could see and hear all thatwent on in the ring and still catch glimpses of white horses, brightcolors, and the glitter of helmets beyond the dingy red curtains. Bentreated Bab to peanuts and pop-corn like an indulgent parent, and shemurmured protestations of undying gratitude with her mouth full, as shesat blissfully between him and the congenial Billy.
Sancho, meantime, had been much excited by the familiar sights andsounds, and now was greatly exercised in his doggish mind at the unusualproceeding of his master; for he was sure that they ought to be withinthere, putting on their costumes, ready to take their turn. He lookedanxiously at Ben, sniffed disdainfully at the strap as if to remind himthat a scarlet ribbon ought to take its place, and poked peanut shellsabout with his paw as if searching for the letters with which to spellhis famous name.
"I know, old boy, I know; but it can't be done. We've quit the businessand must just look on. No larks for us this time, Sanch, so keep quietand behave,' whispered Ben, tucking the dog away under the seat with asympathetic cuddle of the curly head that peeped out from between hisfeet.
"He wants to go and cut up, don't he?" said Billy, "and so do you, Iguess. Wish you were going to. Wouldn't it be fun to see Ben showing offin there?"
"I'd be afraid to have him go up on a pile of elephants and jump throughhoops like these folks," answered Bab, poring over her picturedplay-bill with unabated relish.
"Done it a hundred times, and I'd just like to show you what I can do.They don't seem to have any boys in this lot; shouldn't wonder if they'dtake me if I asked 'em," said Ben, moving uneasily on his seat andcasting wistful glances toward the inner tent where he knew he wouldfeel more at home than in his present place.
"I heard some men say that it's against the law to have small boys now;it's so dangerous and not good for them, this kind of thing. If that'sso, you're done for, Ben," observed Sam, with his most grown-up air,remembering Ben's remarks on "fat boys."
"Don't believe a word of it, and Sanch and I could go this minute andget taken on, I'll bet. We are a valuable couple, and I could prove itif I chose to," began Ben, getting excited and boastful.
"Oh, see, they're coming!--gold carriages and lovely horses, and flagsand elephants, and every thing," cried Bab, giving a clutch at Ben's armas the opening procession appeared headed by the band, tooting andbanging till their faces were as red as their uniforms.
Round and round they went till every one had seen their fill, then theriders alone were left caracoling about the ring with feathers flying,horses prancing, and performers looking as tired and indifferent as ifthey would all like to go to sleep then and there.
"How splendid!" sighed Bab, as they went dashing out, to tumble offalmost before the horses stopped.
"That's nothing! You wait till you see the bareback riding and the'acrobatic exercises,'" said Ben, quoting from the play-bill, with theair of one who knew all about the feats to come, and could never besurprised any more.
"What are 'crowbackic exercises'?" asked Billy, thirsting forinformation.
"Leaping and climbing and tumbling; you'll see George! what a stunninghorse!" and Ben forgot every thing else to feast his eyes on thehandsome creature who now came pacing in to dance, upset and replacechairs, kneel, bow, and perform many wonderful or graceful feats, endingwith a swift gallop while the rider sat in a chair on its back fanninghimself, with his legs crossed, as comfortably as you please.
"That, now, is something like," and Ben's eyes shone with admiration andenvy as the pair vanished, and the pink and silver acrobats came leapinginto the ring.
The boys were especially interested in this part, and well they mightbe; for strength and agility are manly attributes which lads appreciate,and these lively fellows flew about like India-rubber balls, each tryingto outdo the other, till the leader of the acrobats capped the climax byturning a double somersault over five elephants standing side by side.
"There, Sir, how's that for a jump?" asked Ben, rubbing his hands withsatisfaction as his friends clapped till their palms tingled.
"We'll rig up a spring-board and try it," said Billy, fired withemulation.
"Where'll you get your elephants?" asked Sam, scornfully, for gymnasticswere not in his line.
"You'll do for one," retorted Ben, and Billy and Bab joined in his laughso heartily that a rough-looking, man who sat behind them, hearing allthey said, pronounced them a "jolly set," and kept his eye on Sancho,who now showed signs of insubordination.
"Hullo, that wasn't on the bill!" cried Ben, as a parti-colored clowncame in, followed by half a dozen dogs.
"I'm so glad; now Sancho will like it. There's a poodle that might behis ownty donty brother--the one with the blue ribbon," said Bab.beaming with delight as the dogs took their seats in the chairs arrangedfor them.
Sancho did like it only too well, for be scrambled out from under theseat in a great hurry to go and greet his friends; and, being
sharplychecked, sat up and begged so piteously that Ben found it very hard torefuse and order him down. He subsided for a moment, but when the blackspaniel, who acted the canine clown, did something funny and wasapplauded, Sancho made a dart as if bent on leaping into the ring tooutdo his rival, and Ben was forced to box his ears and put his feet onthe poor beast, fearing he would be ordered out if he made anydisturbance.
Too well trained to rebel again, Sancho lay meditating on his wrongstill the dog act was over, carefully abstaining from any further sign ofinterest in their tricks, and only giving a sidelong glance at the twolittle poodles who came out of a basket to run up and down stairs ontheir fore-paws, dance jigs on their hind-legs, and play various prettypranks to the great delight of all the children in the audience. If evera dog expressed by look and attitude, "Pooh! I could do much better thanthat, and astonish you all, if I were only allowed to," that dog wasSancho, as he curled himself up and affected to turn his back on anunappreciative world.
"It's too bad, when he knows more than all those chaps put together. I'dgive any thing if I could show him off as I used to. Folks always likeit, and I was ever so proud of him. He's mad now because I had to cuffhim, and won't take any notice of me till I make up," said Ben,regretfully eying his offended friend, but not daring to beg pardon yet.
More riding followed, and Bab was kept in a breathless state by themarvellous agility and skill of the gauzy lady who drove four horses atonce, leaped through hoops, over banners and bars, sprang off and on atfull speed, and seemed to enjoy it all so much it was impossible tobelieve that there could be any danger or exertion in it. Then two girlsflew about on the trapeze, and walked on a tight rope, causing Bab tofeel that she had at last found her sphere; for, young as she was, hermother often said,
"I really don't know what this child is fit for, except mischief, like amonkey."
"I'll fix the clothes-line when I get home, and show Ma how nice it is.Then, may be, she'd let me wear red and gold trousers, and climb roundlike these girls," thought the busy little brain, much excited by all itsaw on that memorable day.
Nothing short of a pyramid of elephants with a glittering gentleman in aturban and top boots on the summit would have made her forget this newand charming plan. But that astonishing spectacle, and the prospect of acage of Bengal tigers with a man among them, in imminent danger of beingeaten before her eyes, entirely absorbed her thoughts till, just as thebig animals went lumbering out, a peal of thunder caused considerablecommotion in the audience. Men on the highest seats popped their headsthrough the openings in the tent-cover and reported that a heavy showerwas coming up. Anxious mothers began to collect their flocks of childrenas hens do their chickens at sunset; timid people told cheerful storiesof tents blown over in gales, cages upset and wild beasts let loose.Many left in haste, and the performers hurried to finish as soon aspossible.
"I'm going now before the crowd comes, so I can get a lift home. I seetwo or three folks I know, so I'm off;" and, climbing hastily down, Samvanished without further ceremony.
"Better wait till the shower is over. We can go and see the animalsagain, and get home all dry, just as well as not," observed Ben,encouragingly, as Billy looked anxiously at the billowing canvas over hishead, the swaying posts before him, and heard the quick patter of dropsoutside, not to mention the melancholy roar of the lion which soundedrather awful through the sudden gloom which filled the strange place.
"I wouldn't miss the tigers for any thing. See, they are pulling in thecart now, and the shiny man is all ready with his gun. Will he shoot anyof them, apprehension, for the sharp crack of a rifle startled her morethan the loudest thunder-clap she ever heard.
"Bless you, no, child; it 's only powder to make a noise and scare 'em.I wouldn't like to be in his place, though; father says you can nevertrust tigers as you can lions, no matter how tame they are. Slyfellers, like cats, and when they scratch it's no joke, I tell you,"answered Ben, with a knowing wag of the head, as the sides of the cagerattled down, and the poor, fierce creatures were seen leaping andsnarling as if they resented this display of their captivity.
Bab curled up her feet and winked fast with excitement as she watchedthe "shiny man" fondle the great cats, lie down among them, pull opentheir red mouths, and make them leap over him or crouch at his feet ashe snapped the long whip. When he fired the gun and they all fell as ifdead, she with difficulty suppressed a small scream and clapped herhands over her ears; but poor Billy never minded it a bit, for he waspale and quaking with the fear of "heaven's artillery" thunderingoverhead, and as a bright flash of lightning seemed to run down thetall tent-poles he hid his eyes and wished with all his heart that hewas safe with mother.
"Afraid of thunder, Bill?" asked Ben, trying to speak stoutly, while asense of his own responsibilities began to worry him, for how was Bab tobe got home in such a pouring rain?
"It makes me sick; always did. Wish I hadn't come," sighed Billy,feeling, all too late, that lemonade and "lozengers" were not thefittest food for man, or a stifling tent the best place to be in on ahot July day, especially in a thunder-storm.
"I didn't ask you to come; you asked me; so it isn't my fault," saidBen, rather gruffly, as people crowded by without pausing to hear thecomic song the clown was singing in spite of the confusion.
"Oh, I'm so tired," groaned Bab, getting up with a long stretch of armsand legs.
"You'll be tireder before you get home, I guess. Nobody asked you toCome, any way;" and Ben gazed dolefully round him, wishing he could seea familiar face or find a wiser head than his own to help him out of thescrape he was in.
"I said I wouldn't be a bother, and I won't. I'll walk right home thisminute. I ain't afraid of thunder, and the rain won't hurt these oldclothes. Come along," cried Bab, bravely, bent on keeping her word,though it looked much harder after the fun was all over than before.
"My head aches like fury. Don't I wish old Jack was here to take meback," said Billy, following his companions in misfortune with suddenenergy, as a louder peal than before rolled overhead.
"You might as well wish for Lita and the covered wagon while you areabout it, then we could all ride," answered Ben, leading the way to theouter tent, where many people were lingering in hopes of fair weather.
"Why, Billy Barton, how in the world did you get here?" cried asurprised voice as the crook of a cane caught the boy by the collar andjerked him face to face with a young farmer, who was pushing along,followed by his, wife and two or three children.
"Oh, Uncle Eben, I'm so glad you found Me! I walked over, and it'sraining, and I don't feel well. Let me go with you, can't I?" askedBilly, casting himself and all his woes upon the strong arm that hadlaid hold of him.
"Don't see what your mother was about to let you come so far alone, andyou just over scarlet fever. We are as full as ever we can be, but we'lltuck you in somehow," said the pleasant-faced woman, bundling up herbaby, and bidding the two little lads "keep close to father."
"I didn't come alone. Sam got a ride, and can't you tuck Ben and Bab intoo? They ain't very big, either of them," whispered Billy, anxious toserve his friends now that he was provided for himself.
"Can't do it, any way. Got to pick up mother at the corner, and thatwill be all I can carry. It's lifting a little; hurry along, Lizzie, andlet us get out of this as quick is possible," said Uncle Eben,impatiently; for going to a circus with a young family is not an easytask, as every one knows who has ever tried it.
"Ben, I'm real sorry there isn't room for you. I'll tell Bab's motherwhere she is, and may be some one will come for you," said Billy,hurriedly, as he tore himself away, feeling rather mean to desert theothers, though he could be of no use.
"Cut away, and don't mind us. I'm all right, and Bab must do the bestshe can," was all Ben had time to answer before his comrade was hustledaway by the crowd pressing round the entrance with much clashing ofumbrellas and scrambling of boys and men, who rather enjoyed the flurry.
"No use for us to get knocked about
in that scrimmage. We'll wait aminute and then go out easy. It's a regular rouser, and you'll be as wetas a sop before we get home. Hope you'll like that?" added Ben, lookingout at the heavy rain poring down as if it never meant to stop.
"Don't care a bit," said Bab, swinging on one of the ropes with ahappy-go-lucky air, for her spirits were not extinguished yet, and shewas bound to enjoy this exciting holiday to the very end. "I likecircuses so much! I wish I lived here all the time, and slept in awagon, as you did, and had these dear little colties to play with."
"It wouldn't be fun if you didn't have any folks to take care of you,"began Ben, thoughtfully looking about the familiar place where the menwere now feeding the animals, setting their refreshment tables, orlounging on the hay to get such rest as they could before the eveningentertainment. Suddenly he started, gave a long look, then turned toBab, and thrusting Sancho's strap into her hand, said, hastily:
"I see a fellow I used to know. May be he can tell me something aboutfather. Don't you stir till I come back."
Then he was off like a shot, and Bab saw him run after a man with abucket who bad been watering the zebra. Sancho tried to follow, but waschecked with an impatient,--
"No, you can't go! What a plague you are, tagging around when peopledon't want you."
Sancho might have answered, "So are you," but, being a gentlemanly dog,he sat down with a resigned expression to watch the little colts, whowere now awake and seemed ready for a game of bo-peep behind theirmammas. Bab enjoyed their funny little frisks so much that she tied thewearisome strap to a post, and crept under the rope to pet the tinymouse-colored one who came and talked to her with baby whinnies andconfiding glances of its soft, dark eyes.
"Oh, luckless Bab! why did you turn your back? Oh, too accomplishedSancho! why did you neatly untie that knot and trot away to confer withthe disreputable bull-dog who stood in the entrance beckoning withfriendly wavings of an abbreviated tail? Oh, much afflicted Ben! why didyou delay till it was too late to save your pet from the rough man whoset his foot upon the trailing strap, and led poor Sanch quickly out ofsight among the crowd?
"It was Bascum, but he didn't know any thing. Why, where's Sanch?" saidBen, returning. A breathless voice made Bab turn to see Ben lookingabout him with as much alarm in his hot face as if the dog had been atwo years' child.
"I tied him--he's here somewhere--with the ponies," stammered Bab,in sudden dismay, for no sign of a dog appeared as her eyes rovedwildly to and fro.
Ben whistled, called and searched in vain, till one of the lounging mensaid, lazily,
"If you are looking after the big poodle you'd better go outside; I sawhim trotting off with another dog."
Away rushed Ben, with Bab following, regardless of the rain, for bothfelt that a great misfortune had befallen them. But, long before this,Sancho had vanished, and no one minded his indignant howls as he wasdriven off in a covered cart.
"If he is lost I'll never forgive you; never, never, never!" and Benfound it impossible to resist giving Bab several hard shakes, which madeher yellow braids fly up and down like pump handles.
"I'm dreadful sorry. He'll come back--you said he always did," pleadedBab, quite crushed by her own afflictions, and rather scared to see Benlook so fierce, for he seldom lost his temper or was rough with thelittle girls.
"If he doesn't come back, don't you speak to me for a year. Now, I'mgoing home." And, feeling that words were powerless to express hisemotions, Ben walked away, looking as grim as a small boy could.
A more unhappy little lass is seldom to be found than Bab was, as shepattered after him, splashing recklessly through the puddles, andgetting as wet and muddy as possible, as a sort of penance for her sins.For a mile or two she trudged stoutly along, while Ben marched before insolemn silence, which soon became both impressive and oppressive becauseso unusual, and such a proof of his deep displeasure. Penitent Bablonged for just one word, one sign of relenting; and when none came, shebegan to wonder how she could possibly bear it if he kept his dreadfulthreat and did not speak to her for a whole year.
But presently her own discomfort absorbed her, for her feet were wet andcold as well as very tired; pop-corn and peanuts were not particularlynourishing food; and hunger made her feel faint; excitement was a newthing, and now that it was over she longed to lie down and go to sleep;then the long walk with a circus at the end seemed a very differentaffair from the homeward trip with a distracted mother awaiting her. Theshower had subsided into a dreary drizzle, a chilly east wind blew up,the hilly road seemed to lengthen before the weary feet, and the mute,blue flannel figure going on so fast with never a look or sound, addedthe last touch to Bab's remorseful anguish.
Wagons passed, but all were full, and no one offered a ride. Men andboys went by with rough jokes on the forlorn pair, for rain soon madethem look like young tramps. But there was no brave Sancho to resent theimpertinence, and this fact was sadly brought to both their minds by theappearance of a great Newfoundland dog who came trotting after acarriage. The good creature stopped to say a friendly word in his dumbfashion, looking up at Bab with benevolent eyes, and poking his noseinto Ben's hand before he bounded away with his plumy tail curled overhis back.
Ben started as the cold nose touched his fingers, gave the soft head alingering pat, and watched the dog out of sight through a thicker mistthan any the rain made. But Bab broke down; for the wistful look of thecreature's eyes reminded her of lost Sancho, and she sobbed quietly asshe glanced back longing to see the dear old fellow jogging along in therear.
Ben heard the piteous sound and took a sly peep over his shoulder,seeing such a mournful spectacle that he felt appeased, saying tohimself as if to excuse his late sternness,--
"She is a naughty girl, but I guess she is about sorry enough now. Whenwe get to that sign-post I'll speak to her, only I won't forgive hertill Sanch comes back."
But he was better than his word; for, just before the post was reached,Bab, blinded by tears, tripped over the root of a tree, and, rollingdown the bank, landed in a bed of wet nettles. Ben had her out in ajiffy, and vainly tried to comfort her; but she was past any consolationhe could offer, and roared dismally as she wrung her tingling hands,with great drops running over her cheeks almost as fast as the muddylittle rills ran down the road.
"Oh dear, oh dear! I'm all stinged up, and I want my supper; and my feetache, and I'm cold, and every thing is so horrid!" wailed the poor childlying on the grass, such a miserable little wet bunch that the sternestparent would have melted at the sight.
"Don't cry so, Babby; I was real cross, and I'm sorry. I'll forgive youright away now, and never shake you any more," cried Ben, so full ofpity for her tribulations that he forgot his own, like a generous littleman.
"Shake me again, if you want to; I know I was very bad to tag and loseSanch. I never will any more, and I'm so sorry, I don't know what todo," answered Bab, completely bowed down by this magnanimity.
"Never mind; you just wipe up your face and come along, and we'll tellMa all about it, and she'll fix us as nice as can be. I shouldn't wonderif Sanch got home now before we did," said Ben, cheering himself as wellas her by the fond hope.
"I don't believe I ever shall. I'm so tired my legs won't go, and thewater in my boots makes them feel dreadfully. I wish that boy wouldwheel me a piece. Don't you s'pose he would? asked Bab, wearily pickingherself up as a tall lad trundling a barrow came out of a yard near by.
"Hullo, Joslyn!" said Ben, recognizing the boy as one of the "hillfellows" who came to town Saturday nights for play or business.
"Hullo, Brown!" responded the other, arresting his squeaking progresswith signs of surprise at the moist tableau before him.
"Where goin'?" asked Ben with masculine brevity.
"Got to carry this home, hang the old thing."
"Where to?"
"Batchelor's, down yonder," and the boy pointed to a farm-house at thefoot of the next hill.
"Goin' that way, take it right along."
"Wh
at for?" questioned the prudent youth, distrusting such unusualneighborliness.
"She's tired, wants a ride; I'll leave it all right, true as I live andbreathe," explained Ben, half ashamed yet anxious to get his littleresponsibility home as soon as possible, for mishaps seemed to thicken.
"Ho, you couldn't cart her all that way! she's most as heavy as a bag ofmeal," jeered the taller lad, amused at the proposition.
"I'm stronger than most fellers of my size. Try, if I ain't," and Bensquared off in such scientific style that Joslyn responded with suddenamiability,--
"All right, let's see you do it."
Bab huddled into her new equipage without the least fear, and Bentrundled her off at a good pace, while the boy retired to the shelter ofa barn to watch their progress, glad to be rid of an irksome errand.
At first, all went well, for the way was down hill, and the wheelsqueaked briskly round and round; Bab smiled gratefully upon her bearer,and Ben "went in on his muscle with a will," as he expressed it. Butpresently the road grew sandy, began to ascend, and the load seemed togrow heavier with every step.
"I'll get out now. It's real nice, but I guess I am too heavy," saidBab, as the face before her got redder and redder, and the breath beganto come in puffs.
"Sit still. He said I couldn't. I'm not going to give in with himlooking on," panted Ben, and he pushed gallantly up the rise, over thegrassy lawn to the side gate of the Batchelors' door-yard, with his headdown, teeth set, and every muscle of his slender body braced to thetask.
"Did ever ye see the like of that now? Ah, ha!
"The streets were so wide, and the lanes were so narry, He brought his wife home on a little wheelbarry,"
sung a voice with an accent which made Ben drop his load and push backhis hat, to see Pat's red head looking over the fence.
To have his enemy behold him then and there was the last bitter drop inpoor Ben's cup of humiliation. A shrill approving whistle from the hillwas some comfort, however, and gave him spirit to help Bab out withcomposure, though his hands were blistered and he had hardly breathenough to issue the Command,--
"Go along home, and don't mind him."
"Nice childer, ye are, runnin' off this way, settin' the womendistracted, and me wastin' me time comin' after ye when I'd be milkin'airly so I'd get a bit of pleasure the day," grumbled Pat, coming up tountie the Duke, whose Roman nose Ben had already recognized, as well asthe roomy chaise standing before the door.
"Did Billy tell you about us?" asked Bab, gladly following toward thiswelcome refuge.
"Faith he did, and the Squire sent me to fetch ye home quiet and aisy.When ye found me, I'd jist stopped here to borry a light for me pipe. Upwid ye, b'y, and not be wastin' me time stramashin' after a spalpeenthat I'd like to lay me whip over," said Pat, gruffly, as Ben camealong, having left the barrow in the shed.
"Don't you wish you could? You needn't wait for me; I'll come when I'mready," answered Ben dodging round the chaise, bound not to mind Pat, ifhe spent the night by the road-side in consequence.
"Bedad, and I won't then. It's lively ye are; but four legs is betterthan two, as ye'll find this night, me young man."
With that he whipped up and was off before Bab could say a word topersuade Ben to humble himself for the sake of a ride. She lamented andPat chuckled, both forgetting what an agile monkey the boy was, and asneither looked back, they were unaware Master Ben was hanging on behindamong the straps and springs, making derisive grimaces at hisunconscious foe through the little glass in the leathern back.
At the lodge gate Ben jumped down to run before with whoops of naughtysatisfaction, which brought the anxious waiters to the door in a flock;so Pat could only shake his fist at the exulting little rascal as hedrove away, leaving the wanderers to be welcomed as warmly as if theywere a pair of model children.
Mrs. Moss had not been very much troubled after all; for Cy had told herthat Bab went after Ben, and Billy had lately reported her safe arrivalamong them, so, mother-like, she fed, dried, and warmed the runaways,before she scolded them.
Even then, the lecture was a mild one, for when they tried to tell theadventures which to them seemed so exciting, not to say tragical, theeffect astonished them immensely, as their audience went into gales oflaughter, especially at the wheelbarrow episode, which Bab insisted ontelling, with grateful minuteness, to Ben's confusion. Thorny shouted,and even tender-hearted Betty forgot her tears over the lost dog tojoin in the familiar melody when Bab mimicked Pat's quotation fromMother Goose.
"We must not laugh any more, or these naughty children will think theyhave done something very clever in running away," said Miss Celia, whenthe fun subsided, adding, soberly, "I am displeased, but I will saynothing, for I think Ben is already punished enough."
"Guess I am," muttered Ben, with a choke in his voice as he glancedtoward the empty mat where a dear curly bunch used to be with a brighteye twinkling out of the middle of it.
Under the Lilacs Page 14
