## The Project Gutenberg eBook of Another year with Denise and Ned Toodles

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Title: Another year with Denise and Ned Toodles

Author: Gabrielle E. Jackson

Release date: September 3, 2025 [eBook #76807]

Language: English

Original publication: Philadelphia, PA: Henry Altemus Company, 1904

Credits: Carla Foust and The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ANOTHER YEAR WITH DENISE AND NED TOODLES ***

# ANOTHER YEAR WITH
DENISE AND NED TOODLES

Frontispiece—Denise.

“DENISE RAISED HER HEAD AND LISTENED FOR THE SECOND CALL.”

See page 15

ANOTHER YEAR

WITH

Denise and Ned Toodles

BY

GABRIELLE E. JACKSON

With Illustrations
PHILADELPHIA

HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

Caps and Capers
Doughnuts and Diplomas
$1.00 each
A Blue Grass Beauty
Fifty cents
Copyright, 1904, by Henry Altemus

[Pg vii]

## CONTENTS

| CHAPTER I |
|  | PAGE
| What the Wood-Thrush Told | 13
| CHAPTER II |
| “Mabie Lilly Taintit” | 23
| CHAPTER III |
| An Old Friend and a New One | 35
| CHAPTER IV |
| Hart | 48
| CHAPTER V |
| King Royal Distinguishes Himself | 61
| CHAPTER VI |
| The Sunset Hour | 71
| CHAPTER VII |
| “Oh, We’ll Sail the Ocean Blue!” | 85
| CHAPTER VIII |
| Pokey and a Circus | 99
| CHAPTER IX |
| The Earth Opens and Pokey is Swallowed Up | 113
| CHAPTER X |
| Troubles Never Come Singly | 124
| CHAPTER XI |
| A Timely Rescue | 136
| CHAPTER XII[Pg viii] |
| Joy Turns Pokey Daft | 150
| CHAPTER XIII |
| Mischief | 160
| CHAPTER XIV |
| Aunt Miranda Comes to Town | 174
| CHAPTER XV |
| Aunt Miranda and Ned have a Little Altercation | 187
| CHAPTER XVI |
| Aunt Miranda Interviews Nero’s Owner | 200
| CHAPTER XVII |
| Ned Disgraces Himself, but Makes Amends | 214
| CHAPTER XVIII |
| A Birthday Frolic and What Came of It | 227
| CHAPTER XIX |
| Denise to the Rescue | 240
| CHAPTER XX |
| A Coasting Episode | 254
| CHAPTER XXI |
| Another Christmas Day Draws Near | 269
| CHAPTER XXII |
| Christmas for all the Pets | 280

[Pg ix]

## ILLUSTRATIONS

|  |  | PAGE
| “Denise raised her head and listened for the second call” |  | Frontispiece
| “‘Why not call it the River Kelpie?’” | Facing p. | 94
| “The man bent down to avoid the branches” | “ | 150
| “They had many things to talk over” | “ | 230

[Pg x]

[Pg xi]

## WHAT THE WOOD-THRUSH TOLD

[Pg xii]

[Pg 13]

## ANOTHER YEAR WITH DENISE AND NED TOODLES

## CHAPTER I
WHAT THE WOOD-THRUSH TOLD

Denise sat all alone in her phaeton, her elbows resting upon her knees, and her chin propped upon her hands. The soft brown curls fell all about her face, and the brown eyes, which matched the curls in color, looked dreamily off toward the glassy river. The linen carriage-robe had slipped from her knees and one end trailed out upon the fresh green grass upon which the phaeton stood, for she had driven out of the main road into a little by-way leading up the mountain, her favorite spot for a “good quiet think,” and she [Pg 14]and Ned Toodles were reveling in the beauty of that early spring day. The atmosphere was so balmy, so filled with the thousand promises of spring, the sun so warm and comforting, without the oppressive heat that would come later in the season, and all nature so entrancing in the exquisitely soft green of her new spring attire, that it was no wonder that the sensitive, imaginative child of eleven should be transported into a fairy-like reverie, or the little pony, which had now been her constant companion for more than eighteen months, should, so far as an animal can sympathize with a human being’s moods, enter into sympathy with Denise’s. He stood perfectly still, his head turned slightly toward the river upon which Denise’s eyes rested, his head slightly drooping, and the usually wide-awake eyes partly closed, as though he, too, had nearly slipped away into the land of dreams. One ear, however, was turned backward toward the occupant of the phaeton, as though he had placed an anchor in [Pg 15]the land of reality in which his beloved little mistress dwelt most of the time.

To the right of the phaeton stretched the great woodland, with its silence, broken only by the wind whispering through the trees, and its bird-calls. It was a dreamy, beautiful world which Denise and her pet were dwelling in just there and then, and a fitting surrounding for a child whose life had been filled with sunshine, and whose nature reflected it, as well as for the little pony, who ever since he had become hers, eighteen months before, had not known the meaning of a harsh word or unkindness.

Presently from out the woodland came the incomparable call of the wood-thrush, rising from its soft, tender note to the clear joyous call which told to all the world that life was, oh, so sweet! Denise raised her head from her hands and listened for the second call which she knew would follow. It came, and this time a little nearer, as though the bird were searching the woods for its mate. Then back went the [Pg 16]answering call, but not from the bird’s mate. Raising her head, Denise puckered up the soft red lips, and clear and sweet from between them came the

Audio content is not currently supported on your device. [MusicXML]
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Then she listened for the answer. It came, and so did the bird, peering cautiously from a leafy covert, flying nearer and nearer the still figures at the roadside, hopping questioningly from bough to bough, as though asking, “Where is she?”

Denise smiled, but made no sound, and the little bird, deciding that those odd-looking creatures so near by were harmless, opened his tiny beak, and clear and sweet at her very side gave his entrancing call again.

The moment it ceased Denise repeated hers, and for a few moments a very bewildered little bird flitted about the phaeton, calling and hearing [Pg 17]the answering call without seeing the lady bird whom he felt sure must be near at hand. It was altogether too tantalizing, and the mystery must be solved if possible, so, gathering courage from his intense curiosity, down he flew from his leafy branch and alighted upon the wheel of the phaeton, to give a still louder and more peremptory call. It was of no use, for even though his lady-love politely answered from between Denise’s lips, she refused to appear, and with an indignant flourish of his brown tail, off flew her suitor to seek a lady-love less disdainful.

As he disappeared into the wood a merry laugh rippled after him, which must have caused a surprised flutter from his wings, and, giving one bound, Denise sprang over the wheels and landed upon the grass beside Ned. The move was a sudden one, but Ned was used to moves of all sorts, so, giving a soft little whinny of welcome, he aroused himself from his dreams, took a step or two nearer, and [Pg 18]poked his head under Denise’s arm. She dropped upon the soft grass, saying:—

“Ned Toodles, it’s springtime, springtime, springtime! I am so glad, aren’t you?” And cuddling both arms about the warm head which was thrust into her lap as she sat there, she buried her face in the silky forelock and “snuggled” as hard as she could. Ned responded by a succession of subdued whinnies, as though saying, “More delighted than I can express, for spring means green grass, long walks with you, and no bother with blankets!”

“Now, Ned, listen,” continued Denise, for these conversations were by no means uncommon; they were held daily. “Spring means warm weather, warm weather means vacation, vacation means Pokey! What do you think of that? Vacation doesn’t mean much to us, does it? It’s a sort of vacation all the time with Miss Meredith, for she seems to know just when I have done enough, and doing any more would make my brain all sort of muddled up, [Pg 19]and it’s just fun to study with some one who makes you see every solitary thing you learn, till you couldn’t help knowing it unless you were as stupid as—as, well that funny person who called upon mamma the other day and who said to me, ‘So this is the examplry child I have heard so much about. Dear me, I think I shall have to ask your mamma to let you come and visit my children for a while; they are simply irrepressible, and perhaps your shining example will serve as a beacon to their benighted minds.’”

“Ned, it was just awful! Really, it was! That funny woman was so very much dressed up, and was so very, very polite, but she used such queer words. I did not dare look at mamma for fear I should laugh, and then what would she have thought of this ‘examplry’ child I am sure I don’t know. Mamma said, ‘We do not consider Denise a model child by any means, Mrs. Smithers; she is no more than any child may be if the parents will take the [Pg 20]trouble to study their children’s characters and learn the wisest manner of government. “One man’s meat is another man’s poison,” you know, and I think the rule will apply to children pretty well, too, don’t you?’ And then mamma smiled that odd little smile of hers that just means so much. You sort of feel its meaning way down inside you, and even if you could not tell in words just what she means you know it all the same. Then she said to me, ‘Mrs. Smithers will excuse you now, Sweetheart,’ and gave me the little love-nod which means, ‘I see you don’t understand what it is all about, but we will talk it over together when twilight comes and we have our cuddle in the big armchair in the library.’ Ned Toodles, that armchair is just the very nicest place in the whole wide world, do you know that?”

Ned evidently agreed perfectly, for he answered, “Hoo-hoo-hoo!” and Denise continued:—

“But, oh, dear, I’m just miles away from [Pg 21]where I started! What was I telling you? Oh, yes, I remember. Vacation and Pokey. You see, Ned Toodles, Pokey is smart, very smart, indeed, and some day she is going to be famous, because she told me so. She is going to study hard and get to be a teacher, and buy a dear little house and furnish it all just as pretty as can be, and have her mother live with her and never wish for a single thing that she cannot give to her right off! Isn’t that just splendid? But to do that she must study hard while she is a little girl, and that is what she is doing now, oh, so hard! And she gets all tired out and fidgety, and sort of criss-cross, because she doesn’t know what ails her, but mamma says it is because the brain is trying to grow too fast for the body, and Pokey can’t keep up to it, so just as soon as vacation comes Pokey will come out here, and—then!”

This thought was too tremendous to be dealt with in a sitting position, and, springing up, Denise cried:—

[Pg 22]

“Let’s go home just as fast as ever we can, Ned, for I’ve a sort of feeling that something fine is going to happen,” and she scrambled into the phaeton, and was soon spinning down the road toward home—the very road down which she and her beloved Pokey had scurried the previous summer in their vain attempt to escape from Colonel Franklin when their taffy candy had led them into disgrace. Her thoughts were still busy with her little friend as she hurried along, but she could not look into the future to see that friend’s dream a reality beyond her most sanguine hopes nor behold her grown to dignified womanhood and presiding as superintendent of one of the largest schools in the city which had always been her home.

[Pg 23]

## CHAPTER II
“MABIE LILLY TAINTIT”

Ned Toodles trotted along the road that beautiful afternoon, and Denise’s joyous mood found a vent in a charming little song which kept time with Ned’s footfalls and to which he occasionally gave a sort of staccato accent, by breaking into a frisky jump. “Sing-Song Polly” rang out over the fields, the song growing gayer and wilder at every bar, till suddenly a second voice took up the theme in a long-drawn, doleful wail, that brought Denise’s warble to an abrupt ending. Ned heard it, too, and gave a little start to one side, for the wail seemed to proceed from the very ground beneath them, and was decidedly uncanny. Denise drew rein quickly, and [Pg 24]stopped to listen for further signs of distress. They came very promptly, and a second later she was stooping over a forlorn figure which the low bushes at the roadside nearly concealed.

A little ditch divided the adjacent fields from the road, and at this season of the year the ditch was very apt to be filled with water and inhabited by a flourishing family of tadpoles. Seated upon the ground at the further side of the ditch, her feet firmly embedded in its mud, from which she was vainly striving to withdraw them, was a small child, probably six years of age. She wore a little pink and white checked gingham, which was splashed with mud from top to bottom; her hands were the color of a little darky’s, and her hair, which perhaps had not been in perfect order upon setting out, was now a hopeless snarl and firmly caught in the overhanging branches of the bushes at her back.

Altogether she was in a sorry plight, for she was held fast by head and feet, and, unless some good Samaritan appeared upon the scene [Pg 25]to release her, in a fair way to remain a prisoner for some time to come. But she certainly had no intention of submitting meekly to the predicament in which she found herself, if lusty shouts and yells could compass her release.

“My good gracious!” exclaimed Denise, “how in this world did you ever get in there, and stuck tight fast in the mud?”

“I wanted the littule fat fises! I wanted the littule fat fises! I want to get out! I want to get out!” screamed the child, tugging with might and main to free her feet, and thereby only adding to the trouble above.

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” cried Denise. “I must get your hair free before you can move.” But the youngster was beyond all reasoning with, and, turning to Denise, shrieked at the top of her lungs: “Take that old tree away! Take it away, I say!”

“Why don’t you ask me to take the whole woods away, you little goose!” exclaimed Denise with some asperity. “I can’t take the tree [Pg 26]away, and if you don’t keep still long enough to let me loosen your hair from the branches, I shall never in the world get you free. Be still!” and she gave the screaming youngster a little shake. It was not much of a shake, but it had the desired effect, and was doubtless the sort of persuasion to which she was accustomed. As a rule Denise was wonderfully gentle with little folk, but here was a situation which needed prompt action, and this small imp seemed determined to frustrate every move she made to help her.

Denise began to unwind the tangled hair, and was just upon the point of releasing the whole mop, when, “Oh! Oh! Ohuu! They’re all tummin’ after me! Oh-h! Ou-u! Ou-u!” and up bounced the youngster, as four or five tadpoles, emboldened by the silence which had prevailed while Denise was absorbed in her task, came swimming toward her, only to vanish at the howl which greeted them. In a twinkling Denise’s labors were undone. Up bobbed the [Pg 27]head into the branches, only to be jerked back again by the imprisoned feet, and the hair, caught more firmly than ever, drew down with it a slender branch which gave a stinging lash across the child’s face.

If she had howled before, she outdid herself now when the pain added to her miseries, and Denise was literally at her wit’s end. To ever untangle that hair now was out of the question, and what in the world was to be done? Every moment was adding to the mischief, and the child was becoming nearly frantic. Stepping to one side, Denise drew from her pocket the little knife she always carried, and, opening the largest blade, stepped carefully back to the struggling child. Watching her chance, she grasped her firmly with one arm, and, despite her struggles, held her fast while she cut the hair from the bush. Once that end was freed, she flung the knife out into the road, and set about pulling the other end from the mud. The first jerk produced no effect, but the second [Pg 28]resulted in a prolonged “s-k-e-r-S-w-A-P,” and up flew one foot without a shoe, the other foot with so much mud upon it that it looked like nothing in this world but a lump of wet peat, while heels-over-head went Denise and her charge into the bushes behind them. Denise was too frightened to care whether she was hurt or not, but, scrambling to her feet, turned to see what had befallen Miss Pink-Gingham. The howl had been scared out of her, and she was making for the road as fast as her legs would carry her. Once upon terra firma she stood still to wait for her rescuer, sobbing meanwhile in a subdued sort of fashion.

By this time it may easily be imagined what sort of condition Denise was in, but, feeling that it could not possibly be any worse, she clawed down into the mud till she found the missing shoe and drew it out in triumph. As upon one other memorable occasion, the linen duster now served as a towel, and a moment later Denise had scoured off her hands [Pg 29]and was turning her attention to the little blackamoor in the road. At sight of the forlorn little figure Denise’s heart melted, but to offer condolence, excepting in the form of words, until some of mother earth had been removed, was obviously impossible. So she rubbed and scraped as she poured forth words of consolation, and ere long had the child as much restored to her normal color as was possible and seated beside her in the phaeton. Then came the question of where to take her, for, although pretty well acquainted with every one in that town, this face was a strange one, and where its owner belonged she did not know.

“Now tell me your name and where you live,” said Denise, soothingly, but, as though the mention of home recalled her recent harrowing experiences, the child began to sob again, and Denise was in despair.

“Oh, please stop crying, and tell me where to take you. See. I will drive you in the carriage wherever you tell me, and Ned Toodles [Pg 30]will go ever so fast if you will only let him know where to go.”

“Mabie Lilly—oh!—Taint! Taint—it!” sobbed the child.

“Maybe Lilly—what? Isn’t Lilly your name? Then what is it?” pleaded Denise.

“Oh, Taint-it! Taint-it!” was all she could hear.

“What isn’t it? Lilly? Isn’t Lilly your name?” demanded Denise, inwardly thinking that no name could have been a greater misnomer under existing conditions.

“Yes; yes, Mabie Lilly—boo, hoo. Taint-it! Taint-it!”

“Oh, dear me, what shall I do with her,” wailed Denise, then, thinking to find out the child’s address if she could not learn her name, she asked, “Where do you live?” Tell me that, and I’ll take you straight there.

“In Noo York! In Noo York!” was the climax of a reply.

“Oh, I’ll take you there by the very next [Pg 31]train, of course,” cried Denise; “or, perhaps, I’d better turn around and drive there to save time. Where in the world does she belong, I wonder. I’ve never seen her before, but I suppose I might sit here till to-morrow and never find out from her. Go on, Ned, and we’ll see what we can find out from the first person we meet,” for pity, combined with despair of learning who the child was, was a sore tax upon nerves and patience, and, gathering up her reins, she started for the town, the youngster beside her keeping up an incessant sob of “Taint-it; Taint it! Oh, Ma-bie Lilly; Ma-bie Lilly—Taint-it! Taint-it!”

Ned spun along over the road, till at last they came to the section of the town dotted all along the roadside with pretty homes. They were about a quarter of a mile from Denise’s when she spied a man hurrying toward them, gesticulating, and evidently holding an animated conversation with himself. Denise could not help laughing at the figure he cut, for wrath, strong [Pg 32]and potent, was written in every gesture. Just at that moment the child saw him also, and, jumping up in the carriage, cried at the top of her lungs: “Oh, Michael! Michael! Here I is! Here I is!” By this time they were nearly up to him, and, stopping short in the road, the man froze to his last gesture and stared at them open-mouthed. Then, shaking his fist at the youngster, he came a step nearer, saying:

“An’ is it yersilf I see a-sittin’ up there in yer illigince, an’ me runnin’ me legs arf me ter search the town fer ye, ye schmall bit av a divil, that has run away twinty times within the past tin days! Faith I’ve a mind ter shake the head arf ye fer the thrubble ye’ve put upon me! An’ yer mither a-screechin’ an’ a-screamin’ that ye’re drownded entirely in the river beyant, an’ fer gettin’ out half the town ter search it fer ye! Arrah, now! Come out av that, an’ let me—Ah! what shall I do wid ye at all, I dunno!” and, reaching over the wheel, the irate Irishman lifted the child out with not the gentlest hand, [Pg 33]she protesting and screaming that she wanted to “wide home with the nice young lady dat fised her out of the brook.”

“An’ will ye look at the young lady, ye young limb o’ Satan! See the sthate ye’ve been after puttin’ hersilf an’ her kerrege in! Ah! Miss Denise, an’ it’s a shame, so it is, the dhirt that’s from hid ter ind av yer little wagon.”

“Never mind the mud, Michael. I don’t care about that, for John will soon brush it all out. But who on earth is that child? I thought I knew everybody in Springdale, but I have never seen her before. I thought I should never get her home, because I could not get her to say a single thing when I asked her name, but that maybe it was Lilly, and then she always added, oh, taint it, taint it, till I knew less than before she began to tell it.”

Over Michael’s broad face a smile began to spread itself, till it well-nigh reached from ear to ear, and then, becoming aware of his rudeness, [Pg 34]he put his hand over his mouth to suppress the guffaw that would come.

“Oh! Oho! Oho!” cried Michael, spasmodically, his face puckered up as though he were going to sneeze. “Is that what she towld ye? Will I iver hear the bate o’ that! Faith, tis no wonder ye couldn’t make head or tail av it. Shure, she is master’s sister’s choild what is a-visitin’ him fer the last tin days, an’ runnin’ arf iviry blessed one av those tin, wid me chasin’ after her till me legs is worn out. ’Tis Taintit her name is, Mabel Lilly Taintit. Her mother is Mr. Wilson’s sister.”

“Well, it is no wonder I didn’t understand,” cried Denise, as she joined in the laugh, and then turned Ned’s head toward home, as Michael lifted up his charge and turned toward theirs, asserting as he departed that “afther this it’s tied up ye’ll be fer sertain.”

[Pg 35]

## CHAPTER III
AN OLD FRIEND AND A NEW ONE

It was the twentieth of April! Tan’s birthday! At least, Denise considered it his birthday, for upon that date, when she was a wee lassie of four, Tan had been given to her, although he certainly had not come into the world upon the same day, for Tan was “no kid” when she got him. That he was more than seven and one-half years she knew, and a friend of her father’s who was well up in animal lore, said that Tan was not far from fourteen years of age, to judge from the rings upon his horns, which were almost as distinct as those seen upon the Rocky Mountain sheep which Tan resembled both in size and color. So Tan was growing old for a goat, and during the past winter [Pg 36]had suffered somewhat from rheumatism. The Veterinary who came to see him did all that he could to afford him relief, but said that Tan would probably not live through another winter. Denise had been greatly troubled at this, but, like all “mothers,” only loved old Tan more dearly in his affliction, and cared for him more tenderly. But as spring drew near Tan improved steadily, and when the warm days came and he could go out in his field to crop the fresh, sweet grass, it seemed just the tonic he required, and he grew quite gay and frisky. He still followed Denise whenever he could do so, but in some of their long rambles, or after a particularly hard climb, often grew tired and stopped stock-still in the road to pant.

Ned, Sailor, and Beauty Buttons were not able to understand, although Sailor, himself, was not very young.

Directly lessons were ended and luncheon eaten, Denise flew out to the “Bird’s Nest,” for the pretty little playhouse and stable for [Pg 37]her pets combined was still as dear to her as upon the day she had received the key to it from papa’s hand, and most of her time was spent in it. Running into the part which held the carriages for Ned and Tan, she took down Tan’s harness, which had not been put on him for many a long day, wheeled out the little carriage, and then went to the door to whistle for Tan. Ned Toodles stood in his day-stall, which permitted him to see through the bars all that was taking place, and looked upon the unusual preparations with a sort of “Well, I wonder what you are up to now?” look. He stood perfectly still except for an occasional whisk of his tail, very much as a person might, without really being aware of it, hastily brush away a stray lock of hair which tickled him.

Out upon the grass in front of the “Bird’s Nest,” Denise rolled the little old-fashioned carriage, and then turned to greet Tan, who, at the first sight of these familiar objects, felt his poor [Pg 38]old bones filled with new life, and his loving old heart beat for joy, for these meant that he was again to draw the little carriage and, as he supposed, his beloved little mistress. With a prolonged baa-aa-a-a—a, he came trotting toward her as fast as the stiff legs permitted, and rubbed his head against her sleeve by way of telling her how pleased he was.

“Now, Tanny-boy,” said Denise, “this is your birthday. At least, I call it your birthday, because you came to live with me on the twentieth of April just seven years ago. Haven’t we had good times all these years? You haven’t been harnessed for ever so long, and I don’t know whether you ought to be now, to tell the truth, for you don’t seem very strong, but I am not going to take you out of the grounds, and this is to make you feel that you aren’t so very old after all,” and Denise stroked the faithful old pet, who responded in every way he knew how; licking her hands, rubbing against her, and making a soft little snuffling sound.

[Pg 39]

It was only a moment’s work to her practiced hands to adjust the harness, and Tan was a proud goat as he waited for her to get into the carriage. But she had no intention of doing so. Such a load as her plump little self was not to be thought of, so, bidding him stand perfectly still, she ran back into the playhouse and a moment later reappeared with a little pink flannelette blanket, bound all around the edges with black braid, and a piece of broad pink ribbon.

“Here, Beauty Buttons,” she called to the tiny black-and-tan terrier which was enjoying a sun-bath in the playhouse dining-room, “come and ride in Tan’s wagon, for I’m too heavy,” and down trotted the small dog, to be dressed in the blanket she had made for this festive occasion and adorned with the bow to match. He knew well enough what was expected, and hopped into the carriage. Denise put the reins over his neck and there he sat, a brave little groom, while Denise went up to [Pg 40]Tan’s head and took hold of the bridle. Poor old Tan! All aches and pains were forgotten, and he stepped off in his bravest style.

“Now we will go over there under the apple-trees, and I’ll dress you all up,” said Denise, and off they went, and presently were standing beneath the blossom-laden trees, so filled with their beautiful bloom that they looked exactly like huge bouquets. The boughs hung low, and before long Tan had nearly disappeared under his decorations, for sprigs of apple-blossoms were stuck in every part of the harness that they could be stuck in, the carriage and Beauty also coming in for their share. When all was finished Denise led Tan to the rear porch and gave a “bob-white” call. It was almost instantly answered by a bob-white from within, and her mother’s face appeared at an upper window.

“What is this, Sweetheart? A flower fête?” asked Mrs. Lombard, smiling at the posy bank under her window.

[Pg 41]

“Isn’t it pretty,” cried Denise, “and did you ever see such lovely blossoms. Tan seems so much better, and I guess he will be all right now that warm weather has come again, don’t you?”

“I would not wonder a bit,” was the comforting reply, for somehow this mother rarely made any other sort, and had a knack of putting the simplest things in a new and happy light.

“Have you got a letter?” asked Denise, noticing that her mother held an envelope in her hand.

“Yes, dear; it is a letter from Mrs. Murray, saying that they will be back in their old home this week, and that we may expect to see the house open any day. I am so pleased to hear such good news, for it has seemed very lonely to have our nearest neighbor’s house shut up all these years. I wonder if you can remember the children at all? The eldest was only six months your senior, and a dear little lad.”

“I am afraid I can’t,” said Denise, wagging [Pg 42]her head solemnly, as though she were found wanting in something.

“Well, keep your weather eye open,” said Mrs. Lombard, laughing, “and when you see some one whom you don’t know, just say to yourself, ‘that is an old friend.’”

“I will,” answered Denise, joining in the laugh, and turning to lead Tan and her passenger back under the trees. The apple-trees grew near to the fence which divided Mr. Lombard’s property from his neighbor’s, and that particular corner of the grounds was always a favorite one of Denise’s. Up in one tree was her “cubby,” beneath two others swung her hammock, and upon the velvety grass beneath them she spent many a happy hour reading, while Ned Toodles, Tan, Sailor, Beauty Buttons, and the kittens stood, sat, or stretched themselves about her. A hedge of currant-bushes grew along the fence, concealing all that took place within or beyond.

Denise had led Tan to a particularly inviting [Pg 43]spot and took him from the shafts, although she did not remove the harness and its decorations. Beauty had hopped out of the carriage, and was now sprawled out like a big frog. Seating herself in one of the rustic benches beneath the trees, she drew Tan toward her and began to scratch the little spot between his horns; a spot which seemed to be in a perpetual state of itching, as his head would fall lower and lower the longer she scratched there. As she rubbed she talked to Tan, rambling on in the odd way she had of sharing all her thoughts with her pets, safe confidants, who never betrayed her secrets, and who loved the voice for the voice’s sake. Presently a loud, impatient whinney caused her to look over toward the playhouse.

“Do you hear that?” she demanded. “I do believe that Ned is jealous for the first time in his life,” and she answered the whinney by giving a peculiar piping whistle.

A stamping and a clatter was the result, and [Pg 44]presently John’s voice was heard shouting: “Hi! you young scamp! Don’t you dare thry that thrick on me agin. It’s takin’ out yer own bar fastenings ye’ll be, is it? Don’t ye dare! There,” as the sound of dropping bars told that Ned was free, “gt-t-t out beyant to Miss Denise, and cut no more capers,” and with a rattle and clatter out rushed Ned to come tearing over the grass toward Denise. His abrupt exit so startled the kittens, who were basking in the sunshine just outside the door, that they bounced up like two rubber balls and tore along ahead of him with both tails stuck straight up in the air like bottle-brushes, and did not stop their flight until they were safe in the branches above Denise’s head.

As though to rebuke such unseemly haste, Sailor rose majestically from his favorite corner of the piazza, and, descending the steps, came slowly across the lawn, waving his plumy tail like a flag of truce and looking with dignified contempt upon such mad antics as Ned was [Pg 45]just then giving way to, for having been confined in his stall all the morning while Denise was occupied with her lessons, and then having had insult added to injury by receiving from her only a few words when she ran out to get Tan, his outraged spirit had to find some sort of vent, and this up-end, down-end, tip-end, top-end sort of performance with which he was now favoring his audience was evidently the proper sort of demonstration under the circumstances, and for a little time it would have been hard to tell which end of him rested upon terra firma. As a fitting ending to his performance, he rushed around and around two or three times, evidently regarding Denise’s laughter which pealed out as wild applause, and then, coming toward her with a rush, bumped against old Tan and nearly upset him, as he pushed him aside to put his saucy nose where Tan’s had been.

It was all done so quickly that Denise hardly realized what had happened till she was startled [Pg 46]by a hearty, boyish laugh from the other side of the hedge, and, turning quickly, saw a lad of about twelve looking over it and laughing as hard as he could. Giving Ned a shake by his little silky ears, Denise pushed him from her and hopped up from the bench, saying: “Isn’t he the craziest thing you ever saw? I guess you are the person I am to see and not know a bit, but to call an old friend,” and with this bewildering announcement she went over to the fence to speak to the still amused boy.

Hastily reaching in the pocket of his immaculate little overcoat, the boy drew from it a small card-case, and, taking from it a card, handed it to Denise with a truly Chesterfieldian air as he raised his cap and waited for her to read the name.

Although a carefully-bred child, Denise had not had much experience in conventionalities, and did not go about with a card-case in her pocket. So it never occurred to her to throw any formality into her reply, and her next [Pg 47]words banished forever any misgivings the boy was entertaining of the outcome of this act. “Will she be stiff and prim?” had been his inward doubt while coming back to the home so long untenanted by his parents, and learning that their next-door neighbor had an only daughter blessed with more good things than usually falls to the lot of one child. He had been at school abroad, and “manners polite” had been as breakfast, dinner, and supper to him for three long years, till very little of the genuine boy appeared upon the surface, however much it seethed and bubbled beneath. True to his training, the card had been produced when occasion called for it, but the sigh of relief which came at Denise’s next words told that a mighty burden had been lifted from his boyish soul:

“Oh, how perfectly splendid! You are Hart Murray, mamma’s old friend’s son. Come straight over the fence and let me show you all my pets, and we’ll talk, talk, talk, till we can’t think of another word to say!”

[Pg 48]

## CHAPTER IV
HART

No second invitation was needed, and with one of the marvelous “neck-or-nothing” bounds which only boys can make, Hart rested one hand upon the fence and the next instant stood beside the surprised girl.

“How under the sun did you do it!” she exclaimed, for never having had any boy companions excepting her cousins from the city, Denise hardly knew what to expect from boys.

“That didn’t amount to much,” answered the boy, modestly, as he followed Denise over the lawn, and a moment later was surrounded by her inquisitive family. Ned promptly struck an attitude, and sniffed from afar in long, audible breaths. Tan presented arms, so to speak, [Pg 49]by trying to rear upon his hind legs as of old, and make believe butt the newcomer. Sailor walked right up to him and put his paw into his hand, and Beauty, not to be outdone in politeness, instantly began to do his tricks for their guest’s benefit. He lay down at his feet, rolled over first one way and then the other so quickly that one wondered if he had some sort of a patent spring inside him; then sat upon his hind legs to “beg” and “sneeze” three times in rapid succession. Overhead the kittens kept up a sort of accompaniment to the other’s performances by running rapidly up and down the limbs and meowing incessantly.

“I say! What a lot of them!” exclaimed the boy, “and aren’t they dandies?”

“Yes, I think that they are a pretty nice family. Tan is all dressed up because it is his birthday.”

“Not really? That’s a joke, for it’s mine, too. I’m twelve years old to-day, and that is [Pg 50]the reason I came out here. A sort of birthday treat, don’t you see.”

“How funny,” cried Denise, “but isn’t it splendid, too! Let’s leave the children down here to enjoy themselves while you and I get up into the tree and have a fine talk. See the seats up there? It’s a fine place for a powwow.”

“What do you mean by the children?” asked Hart, glancing about for several infants, but failing to see them.

Denise laughed. “Oh, that is only my way of speaking of the pets. There are such a lot of them that they need as much care as children, so I call them so.”

Hart glanced up into the blossom-laden tree, and without another word began to scramble into its fragrant depths, Denise following as nimbly as a squirrel. Seating themselves upon bits of board which had been nailed in the branches, they at once availed themselves of that blessed privilege of childhood, and asked questions by the dozen.

[Pg 51]

“When did you come out?” was Denise’s first question.

“Just before luncheon with Mrs. Dean, the housekeeper. Father and mother won’t be out until to-morrow. But I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to see the place so much, and—” Hart paused abruptly, for he had been about to add “you,” when he bethought himself of his manners.

“And what?” asked Denise.

“Why, you see, I hadn’t seen the place since I was just a little kid only five years old, and mother said that she had always lived here when she was a girl, and that your mother was her school-friend. And then she told me about your pets, and—and—well, she said that she hoped you and I would grow to be good friends, too, don’t you see,” and the handsome blue eyes smiled in the friendliest way. Hart was a handsome boy, tall and well formed for a boy of twelve, with a firm mouth, fine teeth, and the most winning smile imaginable. Little brownie [Pg 52]Denise was an exact opposite, for his hair was a mass of golden waves and hers as dark as a seal’s.

“Why, of course we’ll be friends. We are already, and it is just too splendid for anything to think that you live so near, and we can be together all the time,” for it never occurred to Denise that there might be people in this world ready to criticise a boy and girl friendship, and the silly nonsense of “little beaus” and “little sweethearts” had, happily, never even entered her head. It was just good comradeship with all her boy friends. True, she had never had any close ones, although she knew nearly all the children in Springdale, and was always glad to welcome them to her home. But the greater part of her life was passed with her pets, and they filled it very full, indeed. But here was a friend close at hand with whom she might talk, drive, or cut any prank, and the experience was novel.

As they sat chattering, a musical bob-white [Pg 53]whistle sounded almost beneath their feet, and Mrs. Lombard’s face peered through the boughs.

“Who ever heard of a quail and a golden pheasant up a tree!” she said merrily. “That boy up there is Hart Murray, I know, for he has stolen his mother’s eyes and golden hair, and come out here to masquerade. Come straight down here and let me shake hands with you.”

It would have been hard to resist the cordial welcome of Mrs. Lombard’s voice, and a second later Hart’s slender hand lay in hers, and she was smiling into his face as only Mrs. Lombard could smile. “I thought I heard a wonderous piping in the old apple-tree,” she said, “and came out to learn what manner of bird had taken possession. I have found a rara avis, sure enough, and shall try to induce it to spend a good part of its time in my grounds.”

“I don’t believe it will need much coaxing,” was the laughing reply.

“Oh, we have laid all sorts of splendid plans [Pg 54]already,” cried Denise, “and were just going over to see the rabbits when you piped up. Come with us, Moddie,” and slipping her arm about her mother’s waist, Denise led the way to the rabbits’ quarters in one end of Tan’s field. Resting her hand upon the shoulder of the tall boy walking beside her, Mrs. Lombard asked: “And what are the plans for good times?”

“Oh, all sorts of things. Father says that he will give me a pony and a boat. Denise and I can have jolly rides, and I’ll take her rowing if you’ll let her go; will you?” he asked eagerly.

“Dear me, who will guarantee her safe return?” asked Mrs. Lombard.

“Oh, I’ll take first-rate care of her, if you’ll only let her come; please say yes,” and he placed his hand upon her shoulder.

He was probably unconscious of the act, but that was exactly the influence Mrs. Lombard always exercised over young people; they were at once drawn toward her, and soon lost all sense of the presence of a “grown-up.”

[Pg 55]

They had now reached the rabbit-house, and were surrounded by black, white, gray, and brown wiggling noses—dozens and dozens of of them. Hart was delighted, and when Mrs. Lombard asked, “Wouldn’t you like to have a pair for your own?” accepted her offer with a frank, boyish, “You’d better believe I would.” So a fine pair, one black and one white one, was selected, and within the hour had taken up their abode in the hothouse in their neighbor’s grounds, there to live until their new owner could build a house for them.

That was the beginning of a boy and girl friendship which lasted many years, and was not broken till years after when Hart, grown to splendid, talented manhood, slipped into “the great beyond,” and left many a sad heart behind.

Ned Toodles had always displayed a very marked aversion for any one wearing trousers, and it was funny enough to watch his attitude toward Hart. At first he submitted to his caresses [Pg 56]with the air of, “Well, good breeding compels me to show no aversion, but remember, you are only accepted on probation.” But Hart was too manly a little chap to torment an animal, and before long Ned grew very fond of him, although Hart had never yet attempted to ride him.

One afternoon, when Denise and Hart were playing “livery stable,” and, as usual, having a royal good time, with Ned upon constant call, Sailor harnessed to a small express wagon, and Beauty Buttons to the doll’s carriage, for “pony orders for children,” the proprietor of the stable received an order for a saddle-horse to be sent to a customer as quickly as possible.

Obviously, Ned was the only animal in that stable who was saddle-broken. Tan was standing in line, lest he feel neglected, but “let’s make believe that he is just a boarding horse, which some lady keeps in the stable, and that we can’t use him for anything.”

“Yes, and sometimes we must take him out [Pg 57]and walk him around for exercise,” answered Hart.

Z-z-z—z-ing! rang an imaginary telephone-bell, or, at least, a call-bell, for this all happened long before the days of telephones.

“Thomas, there goes the order-bell,” called the proprietor, Mr. Andrews.

“Aye, aye, sir!” answered Thomas, running to the little window to receive an imaginary order from without. “It’s from Mr. Casey, and he wants a saddle-horse sent up right off.”

“Does he ask for a side or man’s saddle,” asked the proprietor, filled with inward misgivings should the order prove to be a demand for the latter.

Thomas turned to the window to ask the invisible messenger which was wanted, and stated that Mr. Casey wished to ride himself. Here was a coil, but that proprietor was not to be baffled by the fact that the stable boasted no man’s saddle, or that the only saddle horse would be very liable to make things pretty [Pg 58]lively for the first masculine creature attempting to mount him. With an air of added importance she said:

“Very good! Very good! I shall have to get the new saddle from the harness-room,” and went to the pretty little closet containing all Ned’s belongings. Taking from it her own beautiful little saddle with its castor seat and immaculate saddle-cloth, she hastily rigged up a stirrup upon the right side, unscrewed the pummels, and, heigh, presto! there was your man’s saddle fine as a fiddle.

Ned was then taken from his stall, and the saddle adjusted. So far so good. That move was not an unusual one, and his little mistress had superintended the operation. No doubt she was going to ride him, even though she had rigged up that queer dangling thing upon the right side of the saddle.

“Thomas, it is only a short way to Mr. Casey’s, and I think that you’d better lead King Royal. He is pretty fresh, and it will be safer.”

[Pg 59]

“Very good, sir,” answered the obedient Thomas, secretly resolving to get upon that noble animal’s back once he was out of sight of the stable. Just then another order was delivered: this time for a pony-phaeton. “As this order must be filled without delay, I shall take Tiny Tim over to Mrs. Murray’s myself, for perhaps she will not want the young lady to drive herself,” said Mr. Andrews. “When you get back you’d better take Gold Auster out for a little exercise; Miss Ward does not like him to get stiffened up.”

King Royal was led out of the stable by the submissive Thomas, and Mr. Andrews, making believe seat himself in the doll’s carriage, said “Get up” to Tiny Tim. King Royal looked back as Thomas led him away, as though trying to reason out in his horse mind why the one he loved best did not come, too. But that person was filled with other concerns, and Thomas was saying “Come on, now, Mr. Casey will be wantin’ you” in very excellent imitation of [Pg 60]John’s voice. A moment later, Tiny Tim had passed into Mr. Murray’s grounds, and King Royal was marching off down the road which led to Mr. Casey’s beautiful home on the river bank.

Arrived at the entrance gate, Thomas held a conversation with Mr. Casey, and a wonderful transformation instantly took place, for Thomas vanished, and “Mr. Casey” prepared to mount the noble animal sent to him by Mr. Andrews. What happened next will need a chapter all to itself.

[Pg 61]

## CHAPTER V
KING ROYAL DISTINGUISHES HIMSELF

Although Hart had been with Denise and her pets daily for the past three weeks, up to this time he had never undertaken to mount Ned. He had ridden in the carriage by the hour, and often driven him, but for some reason had never thought of getting upon his back. Denise had never revealed Ned’s peculiarities regarding boys, excepting to say that he did not like some boys, feeling, perhaps, that she might arouse distrust of her pet in her friend. But here was a crisis, and well enough she knew that there would be, as she mentally termed it, “a high old time” when Hart tried to get on Ned’s back, as she felt sure he meant to do when “Mr. Casey” [Pg 62]sent in the order for a saddle-horse. However, Ned was not vicious, and the worst outcome of the venture would be a spill, which neither Hart nor she minded in the least. Now Ned’s usual procedure, when submitted to the indignity of a boyish burden, was to stand perfectly still until he had his victim safe upon his back, looking, meanwhile, the very picture of innocence and meekness, a sort of “what a good boy am I” expression. So when Hart gathered up the reins in the most scientific manner, for he had ridden all his life, and was a skillful little horseman, Ned wagged one ear wisely and “prepared for action.”

Hart placed his foot in the stirrups, adjusting the makeshift one to his satisfaction. “Now, old fellow, let’s show our paces!” he said, and Ned took him at his word. First a sedate walk, smooth and easy as a rocking-chair, but gradually growing more rapid. Charming! The walk is changed into a trot. Quite the Park gait. Now a gentle lope. Could anything be [Pg 63]more perfect than that gait? His rider becomes more than ever assured that the animal he is bestriding is the most perfectly broken one he has ever ridden. All this time one wise eye is cocked knowingly backward to watch the boy upon his back, and note with great satisfaction that his confidence in his mount is momentarily increasing. Then! Off like a mad thing, tail up in the air, head down, and Tam o’Shanter’s imps in hot pursuit till about three blocks are told off. HALT! Down goes the head, up go the hind legs, and it is a skilled rider, indeed, who sticks on at the point of the game.

But this time Master Ned had reckoned without his host, for his host “didn’t spill worth a cent,” as that host himself asserted. Then came a tussle, and up and down the road tore that crazy little beast, bent upon dislodging Hart or dying in the attempt. Meanwhile “Mr. Andrews” had returned from giving the “Misses Murray” their outing, and was standing at the gate screaming with laughter. Hart’s hat had [Pg 64]long since sailed into a neighboring field, and most of his attire looked as though he had dressed himself in the dark. But he was still on Ned’s back, and, so far as that bad little scamp’s efforts were concerned, liable to stay there for some time.

“Ned Toodles, how can you be so bad!” cried Denise, forgetful for the time being, that it was the royal antics of a royal king she was witnessing. Ned stopped short at that sound, and took time to consider the situation. Fatal moment! Fatal, at least, for Hart, for into that wise little horse noddle flashed an idea, and without a second’s hesitation was acted upon. With a wild, triumphant neigh, he wheeled short around, made a rush for an open gate at the end of the grounds, pelted through it like a monstrous cannon-ball, and a second later was in Buttercup’s cow-yard. Now Buttercup was the dearest cow in the world, and her eyes were beautiful to behold, and her coat like satin. But her barnyard—well, they are very nice places for—cows. [Pg 65]Into this yard came Ned like a tornado, scaring poor Buttercup out of her wits, for, although upon the friendliest of terms, she had never before received a visit from him.

“So you won’t get off my back!” said Ned’s face and attitude, as plainly as words could have said it. “We’ll see!” and down he went flat upon his side. What happened next would better be left untold. Alas, for the pretty castor saddle! When Denise arrived upon the scene Ned was still resting from his labors, Hart stood staring at the peacefully reposing animal with a decidedly crestfallen air, and John had arrived upon the scene to “drop a casual word” regarding affairs in general.

Ned had never been whipped, but he came pretty near being that time, and did not forget his sound scolding, for after that an armistice was declared, and Hart was permitted to ride all he wished, Ned evidently feeling that he had earned a right to do so.

Not long after this Hart’s pony was given to [Pg 66]him, and, although somewhat larger than Ned Toodles, as warm a friendship was formed by the two little horses as existed between their master and mistress. “Pinto,” as Hart’s pony was named on account of his peculiar marking, was a dear little beastie, although he never attained to the degree of intelligence that Ned displayed as the years went on. But that, no doubt, was due to the fact that he had not been so closely associated with a human being as Ned had been ever since he became Denise’s and as Mr. Lombard suspected he had been during much of his former life, although nothing for a long time was known of it, and it was not until this eventful summer that they learned his history.

Hart and Denise, mounted upon Ned and Pinto, ranged the country far and wide, and it was a far corner indeed that they did not find their way into sooner or later. Those spring months, with all their bud and bloom, were halcyon days for the children, for Hart literally lived at Mrs. Lombard’s house till [Pg 67]Mrs. Murray said to her: “Emilie Lombard, when do you intend to send in my son’s board-bill? This is simply dreadful. He is hardly out of bed in the morning before he is making some excuse to come over here.”

“Let him come all he wants to. It is good for Denise to have such a sturdy playmate, for she has never had any real crony but Pokey, and she is such a gentle little soul that I’m afraid Denise will think more of her own way than some one else’s.”

“Well, you have no idea what it means to me to have that boy so happily associated,” exclaimed Mrs. Murray. “He has been abroad at school so long that I hardly know him myself, and isn’t in the least like our true, every-day American boys. And Denise is just the jolly little chum for him to have.”

“It all seems too delightful to be true,” said Mrs. Lombard, “and to have you for my neighbor after all these years of separation makes me feel like a young girl again.”

[Pg 68]

“You have never been anything else,” replied Mrs. Murray, “for you have stayed young with Denise, and that is the secret of your beautiful attitude toward each other.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Mrs. Lombard, a happy smile creeping about her lips as thoughts of the sunny little daughter and their mutual love put into her eyes the lovely “mother” light that never comes till that precious name becomes ours.

“Well, you must not let him remain to dinner every night, at all events,” added Mrs. Murray. “Send him home in time to dine with his father, or I do not know what will happen.”

“Very well, home he goes at the stroke of five, to remove all traces of the afternoon’s siege before Mr. Murray’s arrival at six.”

“Yes, do; it will be a real kindness, for my time is so occupied with the other children that I fear I have let Hart paddle his own canoe more than I should have done. But they are all so small that they need me more. Good-bye, and [Pg 69]run in when you can. I am always disengaged between five and six.”

“And I am always engaged at that hour,” answered Mrs. Lombard with an odd smile, which made Mrs. Murray ask: “Afternoon tea, and a quiet little gossip with your best friends?”

“The gossip with my best friend, but not the tea,” answered Mrs. Lombard. “That is Denise’s hour with me, and I try never to let anything interfere with it.”

“What? Do you give up all that time to the child never mind what is going on? I should think it would be impossible at times!”

“There, of course, arise circumstances which make it impossible once in a while, but they are rare, and she is always ready to accept my explanations and apology,” answered Mrs. Lombard, with the gentlest expression.

“Explanations and apologies to one’s child!” cried Mrs. Murray in dismay. “You don’t mean to say that you carry things to that extent [Pg 70]with her! I should think that she would be so conceited that you would never in the world be able to do a thing with her.”

A slight flush overspread Mrs. Lombard’s sweet face as she answered, “Could I hope to have her wholly courteous to me or to others if she found me wanting in courtesy to her?”

[Pg 71]

## CHAPTER VI
THE SUNSET HOUR

The library windows stood open, and the soft little June winds played “peep” with the lace curtains, swaying them in and out, and letting the rose-laden air slip into the room. Outside the setting sun cast long slanting rays upon the lawn and foliage, lighting the world as it can only light it just before it slips away behind the hills to carry the promise of a new day to other lands. Within the library all was wonderfully peaceful and quiet. It was a very attractive room, pervaded with the home atmosphere that only a much-used, well-loved room can possess. A sort of individuality of each member of the family, as though even in their absence they left there something which [Pg 72]could not fail to recall their presence. In the bay-window stood a monstrous leather-covered armchair. A motherly-fatherly sort of chair that said: “Come, snuggle within my inviting depths and tell me all your secrets, and whether they be joyful or sad, I’ll prove a comfort to you.”

It was five o’clock. As the cuckoo clock announced the fact to all who cared to know it, a stately pad, pad, pad, came stalking across the piazza, and a second later Sailor’s great head pushed aside the curtains and he looked into the room. That no one was visible did not seem to deter him in the least, for walking over to the fur rug which lay upon the floor beside the couch, he stretched himself at length upon it, and lay there with his head raised in a listening attitude. Pat, pat, pat, came the sound of small hurrying feet through the hall, and in ran Beauty Buttons with a “woof, woof,” by way of salutation. He, too, evidently expected others to follow, for, after settling himself comfortably [Pg 73]between Sailor’s great front paws, he listened with ears erect.

But he must, indeed, have possessed acute hearing to have detected the footfalls of the next arrivals, for not until they had crossed the piazza, and slipped beneath the curtains, did they make the least sound. Then a warbly little “r-r-r-r-rwow” told that Hero wished to say “good-evening,” and Leander, who was never far away from his lady-love, echoed her greeting in deeper tones. Advancing toward the dogs with tails held straight up in the air, they rubbed against Sailor’s long hair and then sought the places they preferred in the library. Hero was soon perched upon the top of the big chair in the window, and Leander blinked at her from the luxurious billows of a bright red sofa-pillow which lay upon the couch near at hand. The two cats were so exactly alike that it would have been impossible to tell one from the other had not Denise tied a red ribbon upon Leander and a blue one upon [Pg 74]Hero, which contrasted finely with their maltese coats.

Apparently the stage was now properly set for the “stars,” and a moment later Mrs. Lombard came into the room and took her seat in the big chair, stopping on her way to stroke the dogs and Leander.

As she sat down Hero welcomed her with a soft little warbly sound she reserved for those she loved, and, arching her back, rubbed her silky coat against Mrs. Lombard’s face.

“Dear old pussykins, are you glad that ‘cosy hour’ has come?” she asked the cat, as she stroked her. And Hero gave another little throaty meow, which no doubt meant that it was a very happy one for them all.

“Good-night! Come over early in the morning and we’ll get ready to launch it,” cried a happy voice at the foot of the piazza steps, and the next moment Denise’s merry face peered through the curtains.

“Oh, there you all are! Waiting for me, as [Pg 75]usual. Oh, me, the days aren’t half long enough, are they, Moddie? Hart and I have so many plans for each one that we could never carry them all out if we lived to be a hundred. But, Moddie,” she added, as she slipped into the big chair, whose proportions were amply large for the accommodation of these two, and, placing her arm about her mother’s waist, snuggled her head upon the shoulder that had never failed her, “I am so glad you got it all so nicely settled about Hart going home at five o’clock. Of course, I couldn’t say a word, but I did so miss our cosy hour. Somehow, the day doesn’t seem finished without it, for every day is sure to have just one little kink come into it somewhere, and I don’t know how to get it out. But when we have our talk at the end of it, the kink flies away, and—it’s just my precious Moddie who sends it!” and Denise flung her other arm about her mother to hug her as hard as she could. There was a wonderfully tender light in Mrs. Lombard’s eyes as she held her impulsive [Pg 76]little daughter close to her side, and answered:

“This is a sort of weather bureau, where we prophesy fair weather instead of foul, and try to set about providing it.”

“Yes, that is it, I guess,” answered Denise, falling back to her original position, and holding one of her mother’s hands in her own warm ones. “You see, now that the vacation has come, and I have the whole day in which to think of just nobody but Denise Lombard, I am afraid that I think about her and her good times entirely too much, and if I didn’t come in here once in a while I should grow just too selfish to live. Hart is lovely, and we do have splendid times, but he likes to do things his way, and I like to do them mine, and—well, if it wasn’t for a little Moddie who lives in a big armchair, I’m afraid that sometimes I’d be, yes—I’m very much afraid I’d be sort of mean. And then that ‘wise fairy’ which ever so long ago you told me lived way down in your heart, and helped you know what was best for me, pops out and flies to my [Pg 77]shoulder, and whispers in my ear: ‘There is a little Moddie who lives in the armchair, and by and by you will have to talk with her, and tell her every little thing that has happened to-day, and if some of them are not pleasant to tell, then you will feel ashamed of yourself, and she—well she won’t say a single word, but her eyes will look sorry, and then you will feel just like a nasty little worm—all crawly and wriggly.’ Isn’t it funny, Moddie, that I sort of see you when such things happen? It doesn’t make any difference how far away you are. What makes it so?”

“I presume it is the same influence as that which frequently causes us to think exactly the same thoughts at the same moment—our great love and sympathy for each other, dear. Our lives are so closely identified that joy or sorrow, pleasure or pain, seem to be mutually shared.”

Denise thought a moment before replying, for, although but eleven and a half years of age, she had a thoughtful little head upon her shoulders, [Pg 78]and liked to reason out her mother’s words, and see them in her own peculiar light. Presently she said:

“That is funny when you come to think of it, isn’t it? But I know it is true, too, because it so often happens so, and only yesterday, when I was out on the lawn with Ned I was thinking about that pink gingham dress that I used to wear last summer, and wondering if it would be too small for me this year, and just at that moment you whistled ‘Bob White,’ and when I answered you called me to come up and try it on. Wasn’t that odd? I didn’t know that you were even thinking about getting the dress out.”

“That is but one of many similar instances, Sweetheart. But apropos of those much shrivelled-up gowns, or is it that their owner has expanded?” asked Mrs. Lombard as she looked into Denise’s upturned face and smiled. “Will you be good enough to drive me over to Mary Murphy’s to-morrow morning, for I think that [Pg 79]the little Murphys will fit into those garments to perfection.”

“Why, I promised Hart—” began Denise, and then stopped short and colored slightly.

“What did you promise him, dear?” asked Mrs. Lombard gently.

“Why, you see,” said Denise, somewhat embarrassed, “his new rowboat will be sent out this evening, and he wants me to christen it when it is launched, and I told him I would. Of course, I did not know that you wanted me to drive you up to the village, or I would not have promised.”

“Certainly you could not have known it, and now we must see what can be done to smooth out these little kinks that have been saucy enough to obtrude themselves upon us and upset our plans.”

“I know you can do it,” cried Denise. “There is only one Moddie like this one, and ‘I got her!’”

“There is only one such madcap of a daughter,” [Pg 80]laughed Mrs. Lombard. “But now to continue. I particularly wish to have you go with me to-morrow, for there is a new little daughter at Mary’s house, and I think that there are many things which we may be able to do for her. She was a very faithful nurse to you during the first five years of your life, and it gives her great pleasure to have you visit her and do these little things yourself, for she is very proud of her nursling. So much for my reasons concerning Mary. Now for Hart. It is only a step over there, I know, but I think it would be more courteous if you were to sit down and write a little note to him explaining the situation. This may seem a trifle formal to you both when you are such jolly chums, but it is one of those little acts which, even though they seem uncalled for, serve to help you both. It shows Hart that you know what it is proper to do under the circumstances, and that even though you are both children, you do not wish to be found wanting in politeness to each other, [Pg 81]and he will respect you all the more for doing this. John may take your note to him. On the other hand, it helps my girl to learn how to write a graceful note, and to excuse herself properly when she finds it impossible to keep an engagement. There! What do you think of all those ‘reasons why’?”

Denise did not reply for a moment or two, nor did Mrs. Lombard break the silence. The cuckoo opened his little door in the top of the clock and gave one toot, as though trying to break the silence. Way down in Denise’s heart lingered a strong desire to go with Hart in the morning, Mary Murphy and new babies, nevertheless, and notwithstanding. But eleven and a half years of the firmest, gentlest training led by this wise mother to do the right thing simply because it was right, and not because she had been ordered to do so by those who possessed the right and power to so order, had not been in vain, and this little girl had grown to regard the right way as the only one, and the [Pg 82]wrong one as a reflection upon herself. It was often hard to give up, for the days were wonderfully happy ones. Presently she asked:

“When may I tell him that I will christen it?”

“The following morning, dear, if agreeable to him,” replied Mrs. Lombard without further comment, for the heart beside her was as plainly revealed to her as though glass instead of flesh covered it, and she well knew that a struggle was going on, not only to do what she wished, but to do it cheerfully and without regret—the true beauty of the doing.

“I’ll write it this minute,” cried Denise, springing so suddenly from the chair that Hero lost her balance upon the top and tumbled upon the floor. “Oh, dear! Isn’t that exactly like me? I’ve upset Hero and scared her nearly out of her wits besides. Poor pussy,” she said, as she picked the cat up and comforted her. “Your missie is a madcap, do you know that?” and then a merry laugh came to dispel the haze [Pg 83]that had gathered, and the sun shone forth again. The note was written, and a wise woman had tact enough to say that it was charmingly done, and that she was delighted to see how prettily her little daughter could write, and how well she was able to express herself. Only a few words of praise, but they were dropped when most needed, and served as a wonderful balm to a slightly ruffled spirit. None of us are born saints, and we all like to have our own way. Mrs. Lombard did not add just then that she was much troubled at the thought of Denise going upon the river with Hart, or that she feared she must forbid it. It was not the moment for doing so, and would have seriously marred the beautiful harmony of the hour. Nevertheless, she had decided that she could not let her go until she had learned more of Hart’s seamanship and tested it herself. But that would all adjust itself later.

Just as the letter was finished the whistle of the incoming train told that Mr. Lombard [Pg 84]would be with them presently, and by the time both had reached the entrance to the grounds, with two dogs and two cats as body-guard, Sunshine and Flash came spinning along the road and neighed aloud as Denise called out, “Oh, papa L., papa L.! here we are!” for these horses did not dread their driver, and loved the voices they knew so well. Mr. Lombard stepped from the carriage at the gate, and, slipping an arm about his wife and sunny little daughter, walked with them toward the house, the dogs and cats crowding about him and claiming the notice which they never claimed in vain. The peace of all the world lay upon that home.

[Pg 85]

## CHAPTER VII
“OH, WE’LL SAIL THE OCEAN BLUE!”

“We will stop at the market, dear, and lay in a supply of goodies for Mary,” said Mrs. Lombard, as she took her seat in the phaeton beside Denise, the following morning.

“‘Allee rightie,’ as John Chinaman said to me the other day when I stopped for papa’s laundry work. Good-by, Hinky-Dinky, we’ll come back before long, and I am going to bring you a surprise,” she called out to Hart, who had just crawled through the opening in the hedge. “Moddie says she has thought of a splendid plan, and you’ll be glad we waited till to-morrow to launch the boat. There, it’s lucky Miss Meredith didn’t hear that sentence! She [Pg 86]would ask me when I’d landed,” and Denise’s laugh rang out upon the balmy June air.

“The old thing didn’t come anyway, Snipenfrizzle,” called Hart, as the carriage rolled out of the grounds. “It won’t be out till to-night, papa says. There was something wanting for the rudder. Tralla!” and he waved his hat and disappeared within the “Bird’s Nest,” there to lose himself in one of the numerous books which the book-shelves held, for Denise’s library was an extensive one, and she was as fond of boys’ stories as she was of girls’.

After purchasing a generous supply of good things for Mary, they drove to the little cottage in which she lived and reared her numerous progeny. There were six all told, and Patsy, of dirty-face fame, was the eldest. But Patsy had improved somewhat of late. Possibly the possession of a wash-bowl and its accessories for his very own exclusive use had incited a desire to live up to such elegancies, for Mrs. Lombard had made it her duty to send him one directly [Pg 87]Denise had related to her the conversation held with the incorrigible Patsy during the previous summer.

At all events Patsy was the proud owner of “a foin bowel an’ pitcher, all blue on wan soide, an’ white on ’tither,” and sallied forth each morning shining and radiant.

“Ah, Miss Denise, darlint, an’ have ye come to see me ba-b-y!” said Mary when Denise’s smiling face peeped through the doorway.

“Yes, here we are, Mary, and have brought along the expressman, too. See him? He wears dresses,” she cried, as she placed upon a chair the parcel she was carrying. Mrs. Lombard followed close behind with a basket of provisions, and a moment later Mary’s eyes were gladdened by the sight of a very substantial supply of eatables.

“Now, Blossom,” said Mrs. Lombard, “while I take a few stitches for Mary and this new baby, I want you to play ‘Polly’ and put the kettle on. We will get dinner started, Mary, [Pg 88]and when Patrick arrives he can eat it and clean house.”

“Ah, the poor childe mustn’t be doing such work for the likes of me,” protested Mary. “Sure, she don’t know nothin’ of this worrk.”

“Don’t I, though!” cried Denise, giving an emphatic nod. “What do you think I have had all my ‘Bird’s Nest’ cooking lessons for, I’d like to know? What shall I do, Moddie? You sit still and talk to Mary while I play cook. What fun!”

“Make some tea, dearie, and put the beef over for the broth. Then put on that piece of corned beef for Patrick’s dinner. My sweetheart knows what to do,” said Mrs. Lombard, stopping to give Denise one of the little love-pats that meant so much, and then, taking her seat beside Mary, she began to sew upon some garments for the new baby.

“May I have this big apron, Mary?” asked Denise, taking up a huge gingham one which lay upon a chair and enveloping herself in it [Pg 89]till she nearly vanished from sight. “Now for it,” she added, rolling back her sleeves, and seizing the poker. “Moddie says that it’s no use to try to cook with a poor fire, so you see how well I remember my lessons, Mary,” and the little poker rattled at a great rate. Then, catching up the kettle, she ran to the sink to fill it with fresh water.

“Where shall I find the saucepan, Mary?”

“Jist beyant in that little cupboard, darlint. Faith, did iver I see the loikes of the child. Sure, ma’am, ’tis a housekaper she is alriddy.”

“She cannot begin too soon, Mary. It is all play now, but there may come a time when she will be very glad to have learned it all in this pleasant manner.”

Meantime the preparations went on. The chopped beef was put back upon the stove to simmer in the cold water till all the rich juices were extracted. Patrick’s big piece of corned beef was put into a big pot and placed beside it, some potatoes were carefully washed and peeled [Pg 90]and left in cold water until needed. And all this time Denise was humming away like a big bumblebee. And all this was the result of the little playhouse training which this mother, whom the neighbors sometimes termed “overindulgent,” had carried on in the guise of play, till this little girl, now in her twelfth year, had become a capable, helpful little body, able to do her share of the world’s work should occasion ever arise for it. And years later, when the dear mother was no more, and Denise, grown to womanhood, was forced to meet the vicissitudes of life, her thoughts often went back to those happy days and the precious mother, who taught so wisely and well that, as though the mother eyes were capable of looking into the future and there seeing all that lay in store for this cherished little daughter, she was fitted when the necessity arose for it to meet the duties which lay upon every hand.

“Tea is all ready,” announced Denise, as she brought to her mother and Mary fragrant, [Pg 91]steaming cups. True, the cups were not of “egg-shell” china, but the tea was properly made, and everything was clean as wax, for, notwithstanding her six children and hard work, Mary was a neat woman, and everything in her house testified thereto. Twelve o’clock had struck upon the town clock before all was completed, and Denise had just set the potatoes on to boil when Patrick came home and the children came rushing in from school.

“Now we will leave you to your many nurses,” said Mrs. Lombard, as she arose from her chair.

“Don’t you let my potatoes burn, Patrick,” said Denise, wagging an admonishing finger at him.

“Indade no, that I will not,” said Patrick, positively. “They’ll be the foines’ taties that iver was at all, Miss Denise.”

Upon the way home Denise spied some circus posters, and was at once filled with a desire to see the circus, for anything in which horses were introduced was bliss unalloyed for her.

[Pg 92]

“They will be here on the seventh!” she cried. “The very day that Pokey will come! Oh, Moddie, how splendid! We can go, can’t we? Papa will surely take us.”

“I wouldn’t wonder,” answered Mrs. Lombard, with the expression which Denise knew to mean “yes.”

For the next few days Denise could hardly think of anything else, and no suspicion of the startling events which would take place ere that circus, which proved to be a circus in more senses than one, and its proprietor, passed out of her life, ever entered her head.

Hart was waiting for them at the turn of the road, and Pinto and Ned exchanged greetings with joyous neighs. He cantered along beside them, his tongue and Denise’s keeping time to the ponies’ clattering feet.

That evening the new boat was delivered at Mr. Murray’s house. It was a fairy-like little craft, built of cedar and shining with its fresh varnish. Of course, Denise was upon the scene [Pg 93]when it was taken from the long express-wagon, and nearly as eager as Hart to see it in the water.

Without letting the children suspect it, Mrs. Lombard had made a fine silk flag and embroidered thereupon Hart’s monogram. Then, to make the launching like a “really truly one,” she bought a tiny bottle of cider, warranted to smash and sizzle in the most approved style.

While they were at breakfast the next morning Hart’s face peeped in at the window, for boyish patience was stretched to the snapping-point.

“I’ve only two more bites of beefsteak to eat, and then I’ll come,” said Denise, when Mrs. Lombard added, “Come in here, laddie, and help us eat some of this fruit,” for she had no notion of letting the children out of her sight until she could follow behind.

“What do you think of those bouncers?” asked Mr. Lombard, holding up a big bunch of bright scarlet cherries. “Ah, ah! Tell your [Pg 94]father that my cherry-tree has beaten his this year. Put some of these beauties in a little basket, Mary, and give them to Master Hart to take over to his mother with my compliments. One must be generous to one’s neighbors when one has fine cherries to show off,” laughed Mr. Lombard.

By the time Hart had eaten his fill, and the basket was ready to be carried to Mrs. Murray, Mr. Lombard had left for town, and his wife was ready to be present at the launching.

“What is the boat to be named?” she asked, as she followed the children down to the river, with Ned, Tan, and the two dogs trotting along with them, for Denise rarely stirred without her family surrounding her.

“Why, do you know that we haven’t been able to decide yet,” said Hart, rather dismayed at the thought.

“He wants to call it ‘Denise,’” said the owner of that name, “but I don’t think that it will mean much for the boat, do you?”

Denise.

“‘WHY NOT CALL IT THE RIVER KELPIE?’”

[Pg 95]

“He pays you a very pretty compliment,” answered Mrs. Lombard.

“Yes, I know that, but it seems to me a boat ought to have a name that sort of means something about water, and sailing, and all that.”

“Why not call it the River Kelpie? That means something.”

“There! you have just hit it! That’s splendid. She is as light as a fairy, and those things are water-fairies, aren’t they?”

“Yes, little water-sprites who come to the surface and do all sorts of graceful, fascinating things.”

“Then that’s what she is going to be called. What a shame that we haven’t got a real simon-pure bottle to smash on her bow,” he added regretfully.

“How will this answer for a substitute?” asked Mrs. Lombard, as she drew from the little bag she was carrying a miniature champagne bottle, gayly decked with blue ribbons.

“Oh! I say! Aren’t you just a trump!” [Pg 96]cried Hart, surprised into genuine boyish praise. “That’s a regular jim dandy, and Denise can smash it to smithereens. Quick, let’s get her launched!”

The little boat lay high and dry upon the rocks, and a moment later Hart and Denise had carried it to the water’s edge, for it was as light as a feather, and they could easily handle it. To put it into the water stern foremost, letting the bow rest upon sand until the ceremony of christening it was ended, took but a few seconds, and, grasping the little bottle by its ribbon-decked neck, Denise bent over the bow saying: “I christen thee the Water Kelpie!” As the last word left her lips, SMASH went the bottle, and a vigorous push from Hart sent the boat into the water, he singing at the top of his lungs: “Oh, we’ll sail the ocean blue,” and Mrs. Lombard joining in with a will.

After the children had somewhat subsided from the Indian war-dance which followed the launching, Mrs. Lombard said:

[Pg 97]

“And may I have the honor of presenting to the captain of this beautiful craft the private signal, which I hope will add to its attractions and wave to his glory as long as the vessel rides the waves?”

The shrieks of delight which greeted the pretty flag when she unrolled it from its wrappings left her no doubt of its reception. It was mounted upon a slender cedar staff, which fitted exactly the little socket in the stern, and Mrs. Lombard never hinted that a note sent to Mr. Murray when Denise had sent hers to Hart had been the cause of the delay in the delivery of this little craft until the socket could be placed in the stern all ready to receive the flagstaff, whose dimensions she had given to Mr. Murray.

Of course, the Captain was duty bound to invite the donor of this splendid flag to accompany him upon his trial trip, and taking her seat in the stern, with Beauty Buttons beside her, Denise up in the bow, and the Captain [Pg 98]“amidships,” off they glided upon the calm river. Sailor, Ned, and Tan were minded to follow, but Denise called out, “Take them home, Sailor, that’s a dear dog,” and Sailor, proud of his responsibilities, waved his tail in farewell and set about doing her bidding.

More than an hour was spent upon the river, and when they came ashore Mrs. Lombard felt entirely reassured, for Hart handled his oars like an “old salt,” having rowed a great deal while at school.

“Thank you very much for a delightful morning,” she said to him. “I shall make but one proviso regarding water expeditions, and that is this: Please ask my consent before going, and then I shall never feel anxiety.”

“We will! Of course, we will,” cried the children in chorus.

[Pg 99]

## CHAPTER VIII
POKEY AND A CIRCUS

As she had waited just one year before, gayly decked in blue ribbons in honor of the occasion, Denise was now waiting again for Pokey to arrive.

This time Ned was not arrayed in ribbons, but in tiny American flags stuck in every part of his harness that they could be stuck and fastened all over the carriage, for it was the seventh of July, and the glorious Fourth had been a gala-day, celebrated with roaring crackers by day and splendid fireworks after dark. Ned had, as usual, been prinked out for so great an occasion, his decorations being appropriate to the day celebrated.

Usually Pokey arrived for her summer visit [Pg 100]before the Fourth, but a slight illness, the result of too much study and difficult examinations, all too taxing for her young body and brain when the thermometer stood at ninety, had caused a collapse, and for several days poor Pokey lay upon her bed with her heart playing a wild tattoo, and her brain working like a runaway engine. Had she not had the prospect of her visit before her, it is probable that she would have lain upon that bed several days longer, for the very thought of exerting herself brought added weariness. But up the Hudson River there waited a lovely little white bed, a pretty room to be shared with some one she loved dearly, and, blessed thought, sunshine, green grass, great spreading trees that whispered all manner of secrets to this dreaming little body, and a welcome which left nothing to be desired. So Pokey made haste to get better and start upon her two hours’ journey, but it was a pale, thin little Pokey that stepped from the train into Denise’s outstretched arms.

[Pg 101]

She was somewhat taller, and that made her seem even more slender, but it was the same Pokey, and Ned Toodles greeted her with a cordial neigh.

“And what do you think!” cried Denise, when they were spinning along home, Ned occasionally joining in their conversation with a sociable whinney, “a circus is here, and papa is going to take us all to see it. It is going to parade through the town at eleven, and as soon as we have seen mamma and grandma we’ll drive up to the village and see it. It won’t, of course, come down this way. I left Ned all dressed up on that account. Won’t it be great fun!”

“You don’t suppose Ned will try to do any of his tricks when he sees the other ponies, do you?” asked Pokey, for a year’s acquaintance with Ned had not served to overcome her misgivings of that animal’s wild pranks.

“Of course not! Why should he? Besides he couldn’t while in harness,” replied Denise, blissfully ignorant even yet of that little scamp’s [Pg 102]resources or determination to carry his point once he set about doing so. Ned was never ugly or vicious, but well Denise knew that a good bit of firmness was required upon her part when she wished to get him past the little store where chocolate creams were sold, and that it was always far wiser to choose another road if time pressed. But she was too loyal to her pet to betray his little weaknesses.

“Moddie! Moddie! grandma! Here we come, bag and baggage, only that is coming along behind escorted by John!” she cried, as she rushed into the hall with weary little Pokey following her as fast as she could.

“My dear little girl, how delighted we are to have you with us again!” said Mrs. Lombard, as she gathered Pokey into her arms, and dear old grandma stroked the tired head which nestled upon Mrs. Lombard’s shoulder as though it had found a very peaceful haven.

“Take her right out to the dining-room, dearie, and have Mary fetch her a glass of cool [Pg 103]milk and some little biscuits,” cried grandma, filled with solicitude for the little girl.

“Yes, indeed,” added Mrs. Lombard, “we must not lose a moment in setting about finding some roses for these white cheeks.”

“There! Now you look quite refreshed, and when you have had a drive with Ned, and seen this great parade that is filling all Denise’s thoughts, I am sure you will be ready for, oh, such a luncheon!”

On their way to the village they were overtaken by Hart mounted upon Pinto. Knowing that Pokey was about to arrive, he had kept at a safe distance till he could “size her up,” as he put it, for his intercourse with girls had been decidedly limited, and he had no notion of plunging into an intimacy with one whom he had never seen before. The hedge was a safe covert for observing all that took place in Denise’s grounds, and from that vantage-point he had “sized up” to his entire satisfaction.

“Guess she ain’t much like Denise,” was his [Pg 104]mental comment. “But if Denise likes her so much she must be all right.”

As he drew up beside the phaeton he was greeted by Denise, who said: “Pokey, this is my friend Hart Murray, and this is Elizabeth Delano, Hart, only we don’t call her by her name once in a blue moon. She is our very own Pokey, and he’s Hinkey-Dinkey,” giving a laughing Nod toward Hart.

“Yes, and she’s Snipenfrizzle!” was the prompt retort.

“Well, I guess we all know each other now,” laughed Denise, and before another word could be spoken the sound of a band playing in the village, just beyond, caused all to exclaim, “Oh, they’ve started! They’ve started!” and to hurry forward as though one brain urged them all. But upon Ned the effect of that band was certainly odd. It was playing “Marching through Georgia,” and one might have supposed it to be his favorite air, for he began to prance and dance in perfect time to it.

[Pg 105]

“Do look at him! Do look at him!” cried Denise; “I believe he knows that march.”

“Oh, let’s get out,” begged timid Pokey. “He acts as though he were crazy.”

“Nonsense; he won’t do anything but mark time,” answered Denise, laughing. “I always said he knew just everything, but I never supposed that he was a musician.”

They were now just at the entrance to the village, and at that moment the circus parade turned in from a side street which led out to the grounds where their tents were pitched. The streets were crowded as though the entire town had turned out to see the show, which, doubtless, it had, for Springdale in those days was a small place, and circuses did not often tarry there. But this time it was to be an exception, for “Backus’s Greatest Show on Earth” had deigned to honor the town with a two days’ performance upon its way to the more important town of Sing Sing further up the river. It would give a performance this Saturday afternoon [Pg 106]and evening, “rest up” on Sunday, give another on Monday, and then “fold its tents like the Arabs” and depart, leaving many an enthusiastic youngster behind who would live for six months upon his memories of its delights, and for another six upon his anticipations of its return. It was, indeed, a gorgeous pageant which burst upon the children’s sight, for in a splendid golden chariot blared and tooted a brass band, the musicians resplendent in red uniforms, and blowing as though their very lives depended upon the volume of sound they could make, and six handsome white horses pranced and curveted before it. Then came a pale-blue and gold chariot drawn by six of the dearest piebald ponies one ever saw, and with whom Ned instantly claimed kinship with a regular rowdy “hullo-yourself” neigh. But you have all doubtless seen circus parades, and know all about the knights and fairies, beautiful horses with their gay riders, elephants, camels, wild animals and tame ones which go to [Pg 107]make up a show which will be in vogue as long as children are, and when they drop out of this world’s economy, then the sooner we all scurry out of sight, too, the better. But it is with one particular pony that we must deal, and a summary dealing it is liable to prove before it ends. All the time the parade was passing Ned kept up an incessant fidgeting, tugging at the reins, pawing the ground, shaking his head up and down, and only restrained from plunging headlong into the midst of it all by Denise’s firm hand. Pinto stood behind the phaeton, but, save for a start or two of surprise when an exceptionally loud toot was blown, he behaved like a gentleman. The children were as close to the line of march as they well could be without the ponies’ noses brushing the elephant’s sides, when there came along a magnificent black horse, bearing upon his back the grand high mogul of the show. This was the manager, so the posters announced, mounted upon “his splendid Sinbad [Pg 108]the Great, most wonderful performing horse in the world.”

Just then the parade was obliged to halt for a moment or two, and the handsome horse and his rider stopped directly in front of the children. With a “Hullo, how-are-you-glad-to-make-your acquaintance” air, Ned poked out his muzzle and greeted Sinbad the Great. As Sinbad was a true gentleman, and not to be outdone in politeness, down came his nose to meet little perky Ned’s, and they held a second’s whispered conversation—a conversation fraught with fatal results for Ned, as will be seen.

Now Sinbad’s rider had a pair of eyes which just nothing escaped, and one sweeping glance took in every detail of pony, phaeton, and children.

Nodding pleasantly to them he addressed Denise with:

“Fine little horse you’ve got there. Had him long? He doesn’t look very old.”

“Nearly two years. I just guess he is fine! [Pg 109]There isn’t another like him in all the world. He is not nine years old yet.”

“Want to sell him?” asked the man.

“Well, I just guess NOT!” was the indignant reply.

“Live here?” was the next question, but Denise began to think that this bravely decked individual was decidedly curious, and hesitated before answering. Before she had made up her mind to do so, the parade moved on, and a few moments later the last donkey had passed. Then Ned took matters into his own hands, or rather his teeth, and did that which he had never done before since Denise had owned him: He positively refused to turn around and go home, and neither coaxing, threats, nor a loudly-cracked whip had the least effect upon him. Shake his head, back, paw, and act like a regular little scamp was all he would do, and at last, growing tired of trying to make her understand what he did want, he resolved to show her, and off he went, pelting ahead till he had [Pg 110]overtaken the vanishing circus, wheeling aside to avoid those at the end, tearing along until he had overtaken the part of the parade in which Sinbad was still delighting all beholders, and then, neck or nothing, forcing his way, carriage, occupants, and all, right in behind that wily beast whose whisper had surely been: “Come on behind me and we’ll cut a dash, see if we don’t.”

Having achieved his object, Master Ned was triumphant, and no French dancing-master ever pirouetted and “showed off” for the admiration of all beholders as did this vain little scrap of a beast as he danced along in perfect time to the band.

Pokey was very nearly reduced to a state of collapse, for Sinbad the Great was making the path before them rather lively, while just behind stalked a huge elephant who now and again by way of welcome to the ranks gracefully flourished a wriggling trunk over the phaeton.

Denise’s face was a study. Never before had [Pg 111]she met with open rebellion upon Ned’s part, and this first exhibition of it was certainly a triumph. Although thoroughly frightened, she sat holding her reins for dear life, with no thought of deserting her post, while Pokey begged her piteously to “please drive home.”

“Home! Don’t you suppose I want to go there every bit as much as you do? But how can I when this little villain is acting so like time? I can’t get out and leave him, can I?” and just then Hart came tearing alongside the line shouting:

“Hello, Snipenfrizzle, I’m off for home to tell your mother that you’ve joined the circus and the next time she sees you you will be riding bareback! Good-by,” and with a wild whoop he pelted off down the road, Ned whinnying out after Pinto: “Oh, I’m having the time of my life!”

Then the funny side of the whole affair appealed to Denise and saved her from tears, and she began to laugh. Never say that animals [Pg 112]do not know the different tones of the human voice! If others do not, Ned did, and that familiar laugh was the one thing wanting to complete his festive mood, and if he had cut shines before, he simply outdid himself now, and not till he had followed that circus parade over the entire town, and marched straight into the big tent behind Sinbad, did he decide that he had had enough excitement, and consent to go home. At half-past one he walked sedately up the driveway, and as John led him off to his stable, roundly berating him for his prank, he heaved a sigh which said as plainly as words could have done: “Well, I’ve kicked over the traces for once in my life, anyway.”

[Pg 113]

## CHAPTER IX
THE EARTH OPENS AND POKEY IS SWALLOWED UP

“Well, how soon can you all be ready? We must get an early start if we expect to secure the best seats in the house,” cried Mr. Lombard, as dessert was being served at dinner that night.

“Oh, we’ll be ready the very minute we’ve finished,” cried Denise, who was so eager to start that she would willingly have dispensed with dessert altogether.

“How soon can you be ready, mamma,” he asked.

“As quickly as I can stick in a hatpin to keep my hat from tumbling off when I laugh,” replied Mrs. Lombard.

“And you, mother?”

[Pg 114]

“Why, Lewis Lombard, are you crazy?” demanded grandma. “Do you suppose that I am going to a circus at my time of life?”

“To be sure you are! We’re all of us going, the whole family, from you down to cook, John and his family included. I’ve ordered down a hack from the village, and away we all go. Dear me, you don’t suppose that we are going to let such a rare treat as ‘Backus’s Greatest Show on Earth’ go by unappreciated. Certainly not!” and Mr. Lombard leaned back in his chair to laugh in his hearty way that proved so infectious that none could resist.

And it was not long before he was assisting his family into one of the village hacks sent down, rather than use his own horses and so deprive the help of their treat, for his thoughts were always for the pleasure he could give to high or lowly. Hart was perched in front with the driver, for he had been borrowed for the occasion; grandma, still protesting that “it was utterly absurd for a woman of seventy to attend [Pg 115]a circus,” sat with Mrs. Lombard on the back seat, while her son assured her that she “was his best girl and that no fellow ever went to a circus without his best girl.” “And you’re my ‘second best,’” he said, as he put his arm around Pokey, who sat between him and Denise on the front seat, “and I shall put you one side of me and grandma upon the other, just to keep you from getting into mischief. Grandma looks sedate enough, but you must never judge from appearances.”

“Right this way, gentlemen and ladies! Right this way to secure the finest reserved seats in the house! Fine cushioned parquet chairs. Comfortable as your own luxurus sofas at home. Don’t lose a moment! They’re going fast! Seventy-five cents each for first choice!” shouted the ticket-seller, perched in a funny little tent all by himself at the entrance to the big tent.

“That’s just what we’re after! Here are six of us; now let’s see how well you are [Pg 116]going to treat us!” said Mr. Lombard to the man.

The smile with which it was said sent a cheering ray straight down into the man’s tired heart, for, whatever it might seem to the public, circus life was not bliss unalloyed, as this ticket-seller had learned to his sorrow. “Treat you first-class, sir! Six fine seats all in line on third row. Just high enough to see the whole arena, and escape any dust! Here you are! Thank you, sir. Thank you, sir,” as Mr. Lombard laid the money upon the little shelf and gathered up the six tickets. But as he did not pass on, the man looked at him rather questioningly. “Now I want seven more somewhere else. How about your fifty-cent seats? Got plenty of those?”

If the man had beamed before, he fairly glowed now, for such customers were rare. “All you want, sir! All you want!” he cried.

Mr. Lombard made his second purchase, and then, turning to the man who had driven them up, said:

[Pg 117]

“Now get along back for your second load, and here’s a ticket for yourself when you’ve safely landed all the help at the show. Tie up your horses where they’ll be comfortable—I’ve made that all right with Mr. Andrews—and see the whole thing. Only don’t forget us when it’s over. There will be another hack along for John and the maids when needed.”

“Oh, I say, you’re all right, Mr. Lombard,” said the hackman, with a broad grin.

I need not tell you a single thing about the performance. You have all been to the circus, and I dare say much finer ones than this little country show, but I doubt if you ever laughed more heartily at the funny pranks of the clowns and trick ponies, or ever enthused more wildly over the beautiful horses and wonderful trapeze performances, than did this happy party. Near the end of the performance the ringmaster announced that there was to be a “new and novel feature presented this evening by an exhibition of the manner in which bareback riders were [Pg 118]taught to ride.” Then a tremendous crane was fastened to the great center pole of the tent in such a manner that it would swing around in a circle the size of the circus-ring. A steady old horse, a very patriarch of ring horses, was brought in, and some one was selected from the audience to ride him. Now it so happened that John’s eldest hopeful, a boy about twelve years of age, was the one to volunteer, and to scramble upon the horse’s back like a young monkey. A long strap with a stout belt attached dangled from the end of the crane, and the belt was buckled securely about the boy’s waist, and the word given to start. So far so good. He sat his steed bravely, and the horse cantered around the ring in the easy rocking motion peculiar to circus horses, who learn to move like machines. “Now stand up,” ordered the ringmaster, and John, Jr., essayed to do so, to find himself a moment later dangling in midair like a big spider from its web, legs and arms flying wildly about in search of something to grasp [Pg 119]as the old horse still plodded staidly along beneath him, although just out of reach of those wildly gesticulating arms and legs, while the audience howled with laughter. Around went the horse, and just above him moved the crane at the same speed, but land upon that beast again John, Jr., could not.

“Lewis, if you do not take me home I shall certainly die of laughter,” said poor grandma to her son, who was so convulsed at the sight before him that he was powerless to heed her, for certainly anything funnier than that struggling boy, who had mounted that beast so confident of his ability to ride him “any old way,” as he had confided to his father, it would be hard to conceive of. On Mr. Lombard’s left sat Pokey, laughing as she seldom laughed and until she ached therefrom. But now John, Jr., grew desperate, and resolved to ride bareback or die in the attempt. Ah, now he has his feet upon that broad back, and then follows a wild struggle, only to end in defeat, as John, Jr., [Pg 120]wildly kicking, slides gracefully over his steed’s tail and lands gently upon the sawdust. But he was not to monopolize all the excitement, for Pokey had resolved to create a little on her own account, and when next Mr. Lombard turned around to see how she fared she had vanished entirely.

“My soul and body, what has become of her!” he cried, in dismay, when a voice from the bowels of the earth answered:

“I slipped through when I doubled up to laugh, and I can’t get back,” for the “fine cushioned parquet chairs” had proved to be but boards laid upon tiers and covered with turkey-red cushions, which needed but a slight push to slip them into space. Pokey, in her excitement, had given the push, and away she went, cushion and all, her exclamations being completely drowned in the shouts of laughter.

Reaching down, Mr. Lombard gave a “long pull and a strong pull,” and brought Pokey to light, none the worse for her spill.

[Pg 121]

“Look here, Miss. I’m going to tie a string to you in future,” said Mr. Lombard, while grandma administered consolation in the shape of cream peppermints, with which she seemed provided upon all occasions.

“I don’t see how I ever did it, I’m sure,” said Pokey solemnly.

“No more do I,” laughed Mrs. Lombard.

When the show came to an end Mr. Lombard said:

“Now keep all in a line close behind me, and then we will not become separated in this jam, for the whole town is turned loose I firmly believe.”

So off they started, Hart in the lead, with Mr. Lombard’s hands upon his shoulders to “steer him straight,” Grandma, Mrs. Lombard, Denise, and Pokey, as usual, at the end. They had just reached the exit, when Denise turned to speak to Pokey, when lo, and behold, Pokey had again disappeared.

“Papa, mamma, grandma!” she screamed, “Pokey’s gone again.”

[Pg 122]

They would have stopped could they have done so, but who can check the outpouring of a circus crowd? Willy-nilly they were swept out into the moonlight.

“Oh, what can have happened to her now,” wailed Denise. “How could she get lost in just that little time?”

“Don’t be alarmed, dearie,” said mamma. “Papa and I will go right back the moment we can get through the crowd, and will surely find her.”

Placing grandma and the two children in the waiting hack, Mr. and Mrs. Lombard made their way back into the rapidly emptying tent, and had hardly proceeded twenty feet when they came upon Pokey, covered with dirt and sawdust.

“What under the sun has happened?” demanded Mr. Lombard.

“Oh, that old stump!” answered Pokey in tones of intense disgust. “Just look at it, and the mess I’m in!” and she gave an impatient kick [Pg 123]at a small stump which showed about three inches above the ground close to the bottom row of seats. “I was walking right along close behind Denise, when I stubbed my toe on that hateful old thing and down I went, flat on my face, and before I could get up I guess a hundred people walked right over me. I thought they’d kill me, and I couldn’t get up or stir. So I rolled over till I was in under the seats, and lay there till the people got by. And just look what a sight I am!”

“Pokey, my girl, you are altogether too much given to stretching at length upon mother earth, and after this I must beg you to keep right end up, if you wish to avoid giving the entire family nervous prostration. But considering that no bones are broken, and you are not ground to fine powder, I’ll forgive you this time,” said Mr. Lombard, as he scrubbed her off with his pocket-handkerchief.

[Pg 124]

## CHAPTER X
TROUBLES NEVER COME SINGLY

“We have waited for Pokey’s arrival before making our first visit to the ‘Chapel’ this year,” said Mrs. Lombard, when all were seated at the dinner-table at one o’clock on Sunday.

“Haven’t you been up there at all this year?” she asked, for it was one of her favorite spots.

“No; but John finished putting it in order yesterday afternoon and we will all go up at about three o’clock.”

“Oh, splendid!” cried Denise. “I’ve got the loveliest book for you to read, Pokey, and I’ll take dear old Tan and Ned. Tan can go up the hill as easy as can be.”

Before long the whole party set out for the [Pg 125]beautiful little woodland retreat which went by the name of the Chapel because, during the summer the family spent nearly every Sunday afternoon there, resting in the hammocks, in the comfortable rustic seats, or stretched at length upon the soft moss. Plenty of cushions were always carried, and a more restful, soothing spot it would have been hard to find. The path led through the fields up the hill and to the woods’ edge, and just within it, where the view of the river was most charming, the seats had been built. But between the previous late autumn days and this warm July one, something else had been built, too, although the owner of the property little suspected that squatters had taken possession of a portion of this land. Possibly he would never have made the discovery at all, had not his daughter and her pets brought it about. All were toiling up the hill, burdened with their pet cushions, books, etc., with Denise in the lead, Tan on one side of her, and [Pg 126]Ned on the other. She had thrown an arm across each neck, and was saying, “Now ‘hay-foot, straw-foot’” to teach them to keep in step. Not far behind came Pokey upon “Mrs. Mamma’s” arm, for Pokey had not had time to get her climbing wind yet, and the hill made her pant. Grandma was assisted by papa’s arm, and all were “making haste slowly.”

“Hay-foot! Straw-foot! Hay-foot! S-t-r-a-w—Ohw-w-w-w-w!!!!!” “Baa-a-a-a-a-a!” and a screeching neigh! Then pandemonium reigned for a few moments, for the “straw-foot” no, feet, three of them! had been planted fairly and squarely into a ground-hornet’s nest, and, in far less time than it takes to tell about it, these “three musketeers” wore yellow and brown uniforms, for the hornets literally covered them as a garment. Mr. Lombard rushed to Denise’s rescue, or there is no telling what her fate would have been, shouting to the others as he ran to fly for their lives. Ned did not wait to be told, but tore down the [Pg 127]hill as though all the demons from the lower regions had attacked him, while poor, stiff old Tan forgot all his stiffness and fled for “home and peace” like any kid. But Mr. Lombard found his task no easy one, for the enraged hornets were venting their wrath upon poor little Denise, and he had actually to scrape them from her legs with a stick, only to find them swarm upon the next unprotected spots and upon himself. At last, in desperation, he rolled her in a rug he had brought with him, and tore down the hill, mamma having fled at the first alarm to send John to his assistance.

If you have ever been stung by even one hornet, you will know just about a one-hundredth part of what Denise was enduring then, for some of the hornets were still on her and Mr. Lombard.

John now came hurrying up, and, taking Denise from her father’s arms, fled for home, leaving Mr. Lombard to dispose of his little enemies.

[Pg 128]

For a few hours there were lively scenes enacted in that home, for while Mrs. Lombard and grandma, with Eliza the cook, and Mary the maid, to help, administered all manner of home remedies to the sufferers, John, mounted upon Flash, rushed for the doctor, and Pokey sat down and quietly sobbed in one corner.

She had not been stung, but was filled with anxiety for Denise, and heart-broken to see her suffer as she was suffering.

Dr. Swift was as good as his name, and came with all haste to give relief, but it was many days before Denise could leave her room, and Pokey was her greatest comfort, for the dear child cared for her as she used to care for the invalid dolls. But before Denise could get about again upon those poor swollen legs, something else happened which almost reconciled the family to her having been so severely stung that she was confined to her room.

Ned and Tan were not much the worse for their experience, for their hair had been a protection, [Pg 129]and a vigorous rolling in the dusty road had produced a wonderfully pacifying effect upon those rampant insects. After he had done all he could for the family, John turned his attention to the pets, and had just made Tan comfortable and begun upon Ned when he noticed a man standing by the fence and looking at the pony as he brushed him and rubbed ointment where the stings were worst. John gave a friendly nod, and said: “It’s lively work we’ve been havin’ these past two hours!”

“What’s happened?” asked the man.

John related the story, embellishing it, till the man might have thought that Denise had retired in a garment made of hornets.

“Fine little beast, that,” said the man presently.

“You niver saw the loike of him in all your loife!” said John proudly.

“What will you take for him?”

“What’ll I take for him, is it, ye’re askin’? Faith he’s not mine to sell, as ye well know, [Pg 130]but ye’d better not be askin’ the master that same.”

“What’s the boss’s name?”

“What’s that to you?” demanded John with some asperity, for he was beginning to dislike the man.

“Say, I know a man who’ll give a cool two-fifty for him and never wink.”

“Well, he may save his offer, thin, for the boss paid three-fifty for him not two year ago, and wouldn’t sell him for twice that, and don’t you forgit it aither, me son.”

“Want ter make a deal? You git him to sell the little horse to my man for what he paid fer him, an’ it’ll mean a fifty for you.”

But this was too much. “Who the divvil are ye, thin, I’d loike to know? Get out av this, an’ if I catch ye about the place with yer blackguard offers I’ll call the constable for ye as sure as iver me name’s John Noonan,” and John advanced toward the fence with ire in his eyes.

[Pg 131]

“Did iver ye listen to sooch chake as that, me foin boy?” he asked his small charge. “Don’t ye let it worry ye heart, me soon; it’s not goin’ to be sold out of this home ye are! Not fer no money!”

On Monday the circus gave another performance, and after that, in the evening, crossed the river by special arrangement with the ferry-boat and went upon its way.

As Pokey never drove Ned, he was not used at all on Monday, and at eight o’clock had been locked in his little stable by John, and left, as usual, to his dreams.

It was John’s custom to come early to his work, his own home being but a short walk across the fields, and six o’clock usually found him at the stable-door, to be greeted with welcoming neighs by the horses, which had learned to love him, and by Denise’s pets, who found in John a very faithful attendant. After opening up the big stable he went over to the “Birds’ Nest,” and was surprised to find the door unlocked.

[Pg 132]

“Now who’s been that careless, I wonder,” he muttered.

Then, entering, he wondered not to hear Ned’s morning greeting. Filled with an unaccountable misgiving, he hurried across the floor and looked over the top of the door of the night-stall, but Ned was gone!

But even then the true situation did not dawn upon him, and he hurried out to look all about the grounds and in every place Ned could possibly have gone. But no Ned was to be found, and now, thoroughly alarmed, he went to the kitchen to ask Eliza, who was just lighting her morning fire, to call Mr. Lombard.

“Whatever has happened you?” demanded Eliza, looking up from her range. “Ye look like ye’d seen a ghost.”

“The little horse is gone! I’ve hunted the place for him and can find no trace of him,” answered John, in a distressed voice.

“The Lord save us! What will that dear child do?” cried Eliza in dismay.

[Pg 133]

“Go quick and call master,” was John’s answer.

“Don’t let this get to Miss Denise’s ears if it can possibly be helped,” said Mr. Lombard when he and John had returned from a fruitless search. “There may be some foundation for your suspicion regarding that man who spoke to you on Sunday, and, coupled with what Denise has told me about the circus-manager’s questions, I am forced to admit that it does not look well. Go up to the village and ask Mr. Stevens to come to me as quickly and as quietly as possible, for this case needs both a lawyer and detectives. I will warn the others to keep silent,” and with a very troubled face Mr. Lombard entered the house.

But all that day passed, and still others, without revealing a trace of Ned. Inquiries set afoot came to naught. The circus had left at one A. M., but Ned had not been among the ponies. If he were really stolen, as Mr. Lombard was reluctantly compelled to believe, for [Pg 134]that wise little beast was not going to lose himself or stay away from home voluntarily, those who tried to get him away must have used great skill, for everybody in that town knew him.

The search had been on foot for three days when the thunderbolt fell from the sky, dropped by Hart.

Mrs. Lombard, Denise, and Pokey were sitting in the former’s pleasant room on Thursday morning when Hart called to Mrs. Lombard from the bottom of the stairs, “Please may I speak with you a second?”

Mrs. Lombard hastened into the hall, for she was fearful that the message pertained to Ned, and, even though the voice vibrated with hope, she did not wish it to be heard by Denise unless it was the one message she longed for. Hart had scoured the country on Pinto, but thus far to no purpose. Half-way down the stairs Hart met her, and whispered, as he supposed, in a low voice: “They think they have found tracks of him because that man who spoke to John [Pg 135]was seen away up on Hook Mountain, and had come across the river in a great big boat, big enough to carry Ned over in! And—”

“Hush!” whispered Mrs. Lombard, holding up a warning finger, but it was too late. Over the railing hung a white little face, and a pair of wild eyes looked beseechingly at her as Denise demanded: “What do you mean? Ned found? Traces of Ned? Where is he? What has happened? Tell me right off.”

[Pg 136]

## CHAPTER XI
A TIMELY RESCUE

Feeling that a real tragedy had come into the little girl’s life, as great as perhaps she would ever experience, for Mrs. Lombard fully realized how strong was the tie between Denise and this well-beloved pet, and also realizing that which, unhappily, few do realize, that childhood’s trials and sorrows are fully as keen for the time being as the trials and sorrows which visit us later in life, although, blessed provision of providence, less enduring. Had not a beneficent Father so ordained it there would be no childhood, for we should be old men and women while still in our teens.

Stepping quickly to her little daughter’s side, Mrs. Lombard put her arm about her and said, [Pg 137]“Come into the sitting-room, darling, and let mother tell you all about it. I had thought to spare you the anxiety, for we are confident that all will end well, but now that you have heard so much you would better know the truth.”

Trembling from sympathy, Pokey had drawn near and taken one of Denise’s hands, and now stood beside her “pooring” it and looking into her eyes as though beseeching her not to be quite heart-broken. Hart, with contrition stamped upon his handsome, boyish face, had crept up the stairs, and was looking in at the door. Drawing Denise beside her upon the couch, Mrs. Lombard said in her calm, soothing voice:

“When John went to the stable Monday morning Ned was not there. At first we thought that he had managed to run away, but later we were convinced that he could not have gone voluntarily, and a thorough search has been instituted. Thus far it has been fruitless, but Hart has just reported that one of the detectives [Pg 138]whom papa has pressed into service has seen one of the men whom we now know to have been connected with the circus, and has further learned that which surprises us not a little, that Ned once belonged to another branch of this very circus. Indeed, that he and Sinbad, the big black horse with whom he so promptly renewed his acquaintance, were formerly ring companions, and performed tricks together. All this papa’s men have discovered, and also that about a year before Ned became yours, the circus then being in financial straits, Ned was sold, very much to the regret of the proprietor. When more prosperous days returned, they tried to find him, but could not, and not until they chanced to come to Springdale did they ever see their clever little trick pony again. Then this manager recognized him from the odd mark upon his right temple, and sent a man down to see if he could buy him back again, but John sent him to the right-about with a word of advice. Then Ned vanished, and, naturally, our first thought [Pg 139]flew to the circus. But Ned is not with it, nor yet with the main body of it, for papa has sent everywhere. If they have taken him they have surely hidden him somewhere till the excitement shall pass, and they think it safe to bring him upon the scene far from this section of the country. There, my dear little girl, is all the truth, and you understand better than any one else can, how very sorry I am to be forced to tell it to you,” and Mrs. Lombard held Denise close to her and tenderly kissed her forehead.

Denise had not opened her lips but had grown whiter and whiter as the story was told. The hand which lay in Pokey’s was icy, and the eyes, which had never once been removed from her mother’s face while she was speaking, had the look of a terrified animal’s.

Not a sound was heard in that room for a few moments save the ticking of the little clock upon the mantel, and then Denise asked in a strange, hard little voice:

[Pg 140]

“You say that the man was seen up near Hook Mountain?”

“Yes!” burst in Hart. “He had rowed across the river, they think, and was prowling along the shore in a great big boat. Patsy Murphy was out on the river fishing and saw him, and told Mr. Stevens when he got back.”

“Mamma, could he take Ned in a boat?” asked Denise.

“He might do so if the boat were a very large one and Ned so tied that he could not struggle.”

“Hart,” she cried suddenly, the big brown eyes filling with a fire which boded ill for any one minded to take Ned from her, “do you remember that wild little path we once came upon on Hook Mountain when you and I were trying to find a short cut over to the lake one day? It led around the curve of the mountain, and seemed to end, but when we forced our way through the underbrush it led down to an old brick-yard dock. We said at the time that it would be a splendid place to play Captain Kidd [Pg 141]and bury a treasure, for nobody would ever think of scrambling way round there.”

“Of course I remember,” cried Hart, catching her excitement, although as yet he hardly knew why.

“Have you hunted there?”

“No! I never once thought of that place.”

“Please go quick, and take Sailor. Give him something of Ned’s to smell of and then say: ‘Find Ned, Sailor; find him!’ and he will know just what you mean, because that is what I always say to him when he and Ned and Tan and I play hide-and-seek, as we often do when we are alone. I would go, too, but somehow I don’t feel very well, and I—guess—I’ll—lie—” and the voice dwindled off into nothingness, as poor little nearly-heartbroken Denise drew a long sigh and quietly dropped into her mother’s arms, for the time being oblivious of her loss and grief.

Raising her hand in warning to the terrified children, Mrs. Lombard laid the limp little figure [Pg 142]upon the couch, and began administering restoratives with grandma, who, at the first sign of distress, had appeared upon the scene to help. Pokey promptly sat down at the foot of the couch and, taking Denise’s feet in her arms, proceeded to bedew them with tears, begging them piteously to “oh, please get better right off, and she would go herself to find Ned for them.”

Hart fled, dashing from his eyes the tears that had sought to disgrace him, and muttering an excited, “Dod blasticate that circus! Wish the hanged old thing had never showed up in Springdale! I’ll go up to that place before I’ve lived another minute, and if Ned is anywhere in the mountain, I’ll have him or bust the whole shebang. Wish I could catch that man, I’d smash his head for him sure as guns! I’d—I’d—Why didn’t we think of Sailor before! That girl’s got the longest head for a girl, and if Pinto doesn’t just hustle this time!” and with his thoughts upon the gallop, Hart [Pg 143]rushed across the lawn, calling to Sailor, who was always ready to follow, and five minutes later was tearing up the road toward Hook Mountain with Sailor bounding on ahead of him.

Meantime Denise had come to her senses, but was limp as a little rag, for she had not yet recovered from the effects of her terrible stings, and the news had been as a thunderbolt to her. But Mrs. Lombard was a wise nurse, and presently had the satisfaction of seeing her patient succumb to the gentle influence of hyoscyamus, and slip away into dreamland. Then, motioning to Pokey to leave the room, she drew the shades, and followed her, saying to the distressed girl:

“Something tells me that Ned will come home to-day, and that Hart and Sailor will find him. So run out into the sunshine and keep a sharp watch, dearie, and be ready to report at the first sign of good news.”

Pokey, with Beauty Buttons close upon her [Pg 144]heels, went downstairs, and out into the grounds, making her way from force of habit to the Birds’ Nest. But the place was so deserted and silent that she gave a little shiver and turned away from it, to wander aimlessly about with her thoughts filled with Denise and Ned. Hardly knowing what she did, she walked out of the grounds and turned toward the road which Hart had so lately galloped over, and began walking along it.

Meanwhile Hart had passed through the village, and was galloping toward Hook Mountain. Before long he came to the point at which the main road turned aside to wind its way by a circuitous route over the mountain, and this was the only way known to the ordinary traveler to reach the fairy-like lake which lay in the lap of the mountain. But not so to the children, who had scoured the country for miles in every direction. A little path which seemed to end at the edge of an adjoining field did not end there at all, but made its way [Pg 145]through the undergrowth, up, down, in, and out until it finally scrambled over to the other side of the steep cliff, at whose base years before a small dock had been built for the accommodation of a long-since-dismantled brick-yard. Stopping at the entrance to the path, Hart called Sailor to him and, taking from under his arm the saddle-cloth of Ned’s saddle, said to the dog: “Here, old boy, see this? Smell it good, it’s Ned’s, Ned’s! Find him, Sailor, find him! That’s a good dog!”

If ever an animal’s eyes spoke, Sailor’s did then, for, giving Hart one comprehensive glance from those big brown eyes, so full of love and faith, he began to bark and caper about like a puppy. Then Hart started Pinto forward, and he and Sailor began their search. On and on they went, furlong after furlong measured off behind them, brushed by overhanging boughs, stumbling through the tangled undergrowth, and repeatedly stopping to call and listen; Hart telling Sailor to bark for Ned, and the [Pg 146]deep bark waking the echoes of the silent woods. As though he understood what they were doing, Pinto, too, would often join in with a loud neigh, but no responsive neigh could be heard. Nearly three hours had slipped away since Hart left Mrs. Lombard, and the boy was beginning to lose hope, when they came upon the old dock, and Sailor uttered a low growl, as, with hair bristling, he walked toward it in that peculiar manner a Newfoundland dog advances upon his enemy—a sort of “Come on and face me fairly and squarely” air. Hart drew rein and called, while down his boyish spine crept a wee bit of a chill, for he was far from home, and entirely defenseless. But there was no sign of living thing, and, thinking that Sailor must have been mistaken, Hart called to him, and went on into the wood again. Had he been able to see the lower side of the old dock he might have discovered a large flat-bottomed boat tied close under an overhanging shed of it, while, from beneath the rickety [Pg 147]boards peered a pair of steely eyes which watched his every movement. Hart was indeed in greater peril than he suspected, for this man would be the richer by a considerable sum of money if he carried out successfully the dastardly scheme of the one who offered the money to him, and to sit hidden there and see his plans balked before his very eyes, unless he resorted to far worse villainy than that already afoot, was a sore temptation.

With hair still bristling, and an occasional admonitory growl, Sailor stalked very slowly after Hart, looking back from time to time to guard against trouble from the rear. They reached the point where the path wound its way up the jagged rocks, and where they had been forced to pause when he and Denise explored it before, and a feeling of despair began to settle upon him, for it seemed utterly hopeless to look further. Sailor stood panting beside Pinto, evidently trying to ask, What next? when suddenly he supplied the answer himself [Pg 148]for, putting his head close to the ground, he gave one long sniff, and then uttered a joyous bark and dashed into the woods. As it was almost impossible for Pinto to make way through the tangle, Hart slipped from his back, and tore after Sailor. Just as he did so, Sailor barked again, and far off in the distance a faint whinny answered him. “Gee whillikens, Christmas! If that ain’t Ned’s whinny, I’m a bluefish!” shouted Hart, and the next moment he almost tumbled into a little dell at the bottom of which a sight greeted him that made him throw his cap into the air and simply yell. In a little cleared space, firmly tied to a tree, a dirty old blanket strapped upon him, and the remains of his last meal scattered upon the ground near him, stood little Ned, with Sailor licking his velvety nose and whining over him as though he were a lost puppy. The next second Hart had his arms around Ned’s neck, laughing, talking, asking questions as though he were speaking to a human being who could [Pg 149]answer if he only would. And Ned very nearly did, for the little fellow’s joy was pathetic to witness. When Hart had somewhat calmed down, he discovered how Ned had been led into his hiding-place, for at the other side of it from the one he had entered there were distinct traces of hoof-marks, and Hart lost not a second more in untying the rope which held him and leading him out that way. This path came out upon the wood-path somewhat below the point where Pinto had been waiting, but, at Hart’s call, Pinto came picking his way down the path and was greeted by his old friend with a joyous neigh. They had not gone far when Sailor gave signs of anger, and, without a moment’s warning, sprang upon a man who suddenly barred their progress.

[Pg 150]

## CHAPTER XII
JOY TURNS POKEY DAFT

Had not Sailor acted so promptly, one trembles to think what might have been the outcome of Hart’s adventure, but as the man bent down to avoid the branches when he entered the pathway, Sailor sprang upon him and bore him to the ground, face downwards, then planted both front feet squarely upon the man’s back and held him firmly by his coat-collar, growling in his ear: “If you know what is well for you, you won’t move!”

Denise.

“THE MAN BENT DOWN TO AVOID THE BRANCHES.”

“Guard him, Sailor, guard him!” shouted Hart. “Hold him fast, good dog, and I’ll send some one to you!” and, scrambling upon Pinto’s back and leading Ned by his tattered rope, he [Pg 151]plunged along the path at a pace fit to bring destruction upon all three. But he had no thought of destruction just then, his only thought being to send some one to the noble dog’s aid. He reached the main road, and was tearing along at breakneck speed, when he came upon a hay-wagon which had just turned in from a roadside field. Pulling up so suddenly that he nearly fell over Pinto’s head, he shouted: “Quick! Quick! Run up into the woods, for Mr. Lombard’s Sailor has caught the man who was trying to steal Ned and is holding him fast.”

All Springdale knew the story, and the three men in the hay-wagon tumbled out of it as one man, to run toward the wood-path as though they had Mercury’s wings upon their feet, while Hart, still quivering with excitement, again pelted off toward home and friends. He was still rivaling John Gilpin when a voice from the side of the road called:

“Oh, Hinkey-Dinkey! Hinkey-Dinkey! [Pg 152]Where did you find him? Where did you find him?” and up bounded Pokey, to plant herself almost directly in his path, for joy made her reckless. They were on the lower side of the village, Pokey having walked and walked till she was weary, and then seated herself by the roadside to think things over. Hart slid off Pinto’s back, and both ponies were glad to rest, for Hart had never given a thought to time, distance, or heat in his eagerness to reach home. Both ponies were blowing like porpoises, and for once in her life Pokey forgot all fear of Ned and, gathering his head in her arms, proceeded to sob out her joy upon his neck.

“I say, what the dickens are you crying about now when we’ve got him?” demanded Hart, with a boy’s usual disgust for tears. “Those fellows up there will fix that man all right and Sailor’s a trump. Come on home, for that’s where we want to get Ned now just as quick as ever we can,” and he gave Pokey’s sleeve a pull.

[Pg 153]

“I know it,” she answered, raising her head from Ned’s silky mane. “But I’m sort of all shaky, I’m so happy, and please let me lead Ned home. He’s awful tired, and will be glad to walk the rest of the way, and I want to take him to Denise, for I couldn’t go to find him, and I wanted to do something so badly.”

“Of course you may lead him, but I thought you were scared to death of him,” said Hart, amazed to find that timid Pokey, who had invariably kept some one between herself and Ned, wanted to lead him. But on they went, and Hart had cause to be more surprised before he was less so, for Pokey hurried along the road, Ned pattering beside her, and occasionally tugging at the rope to hasten her steps as he drew nearer and nearer the dear home and dearer little mistress. Pokey did not take time to go around by the driveway when she reached the grounds, but slipped in through a side gate, and right across the lawn. What happened next will be told presently.

[Pg 154]

After about an hour’s sleep, Denise awakened much refreshed, and Mrs. Lombard was on hand to say a soothing word the moment her eyes opened. Then followed a long, quiet talk, Denise asking questions and her mother answering them with the utmost care and infinite patience.

“Where is Pokey, mamma?” she asked, after a little.

“I sent her outdoors to freshen up a bit, for she is much disturbed over this misfortune. She will be in soon, I think, dear.”

“Would you mind if I went down into the library, mamma? That room always seems the nicest one to be in when things trouble me, for somehow or other they seem to sort of get straight there.”

“Certainly, we will go down, darling, if you think you can do so, but the poor legs are still pretty stiff.”

“I think I can with your help.”

“Then off we go,” and Mrs. Lombard placed [Pg 155]her arm about Denise’s waist to help her down the stairs. In a few moments they were settled in the big chair, Denise saying, with a sigh, as she rested her weary little head against her mother’s shoulder:

“Mamma, why is it that I always feel such a sense of security when you are with me? Then things always seem to go so smoothly, and troubles don’t seem half so hard to bear.”

“I wish that it lay within my power to make all your pathway smooth for you, my darling, and insure a future free from trials. But that cannot be, so I try to make the childhood days sweet and happy ones, that you may carry with you throughout your life a beautiful memory, of which nothing can ever deprive you, and which will bring into the dark days which you like all others, must meet, a ray of sunshine to cheer and gladden you. Then the memory of these precious home hours, our little talks, and confidences, our perfect trust in each other, will come back to you, and, I think, strengthen you [Pg 156]to meet the daily trials we must all meet, and to see how you may smooth them out for others when opportunity arises.”

Mrs. Lombard was stroking back the hair from Denise’s forehead as she talked to her, and Denise was toying idly with the ribbons upon her mother’s gown. When Mrs. Lombard finished speaking they sat silent for a moment or two, and then the silence was broken in a startling manner.

“Yes, you can do it if you want to, and you just must ’cause her legs are too stiff for her to come to you. There? Now you see you can, just as well as not! Now another! Another! One more! Another! Now only two more-and—t-h-e-r-e you are!” and then a clatter and a scramble over the piazza, and in through the lace curtains tore Pokey and Ned side by side, one with a cry of, “I had to bring him! I couldn’t wait!” and the other with as joyous a neigh as ever a horse gave voice to. Straight into the library they came pell-mell, and straight [Pg 157]into Denise’s arms, to be laughed over and cried over. For the tears which had not come at the sorrow, fell like a refreshing summer shower now, and Denise never knew that they were falling.

Mrs. Lombard and Denise had sprung to their feet as the funny pair entered the library, and both joined in the shout of welcome, and now Pokey, having done her one wild, unbridled act, curled herself up in a little heap in the middle of the floor and, clasping her knees in her arms, swayed back and forth, crying and laughing by turns as she said:

“Hart found him in the woods, and I made him scramble up the piazza-steps, so we both got him! We both got him, didn’t we?”

Need I tell you any more? Yes, I will tell you how Beauty Buttons carried the good news to papa when he came home that evening. Of course all was excitement for a time, for Ned was welcomed like a lost son, the entire family gathering about him as he stood in the middle of the library with Denise hugging him as [Pg 158]though she would never give over doing so, and every one trying to find some spot to stroke, for grandma, Eliza, Mary, and John had rushed up to the library to rejoice, eulogize, and all talk at once of Ned’s abduction by “that bad man,” and his rescue by “this blessed boy.” Hart’s head was in a fair way to be turned hind-side-before with sheer conceit, and in future Ned might be expected to demand quarters in the library. After the excitement had subsided a little, John went tearing off to the village to learn the fate of the “bad man” and Sailor, and also to telegraph to Mr. Lombard.

Of course, during all the attention paid to Ned, Beauty was somewhat overlooked, but this he set about remedying himself by first jumping upon a chair, and then upon Ned’s back, where he wriggled about so much that Ned turned his head around to hint at less active demonstrations of joy.

Finally Ned was taken to the “Birds’ Nest” by the children, Denise having speedily recovered [Pg 159]under the stimulating influence of so much happiness. During the afternoon Beauty was as fidgety as a flea, and kept running to the entrance-gate every time a train whistled. As six o’clock drew near he vanished, but was not missed by the family because Sailor, who had just been brought home by John, after having held his victim till the men sent by Hart released him and led him to the sheriff’s office, where he was promptly dealt with, was now the conquering hero to be worshiped and commended.

As John’s testimony was required at the sheriff’s office, he was not on hand to drive to the station as usual for Mr. Lombard, but as that gentleman stepped from the train, what should he see perched at the end of the platform, but a tiny black-and-tan dog, with both ears cocked up expectantly, and who, directly he spied his master, rushed toward him fairly squirming and wriggling with excitement. Mr. Lombard said that he felt sure that Beauty was trying to tell him the good news.

[Pg 160]

## CHAPTER XIII
MISCHIEF

“Good-night, Sweetheart. Good-night, Pokey, dear,” said Mrs. Lombard, as she kissed the children just before departing a few evenings later to attend a card-party given by one of their neighbors. The children were not to accompany them, and a few moments later Mr. and Mrs. Lombard, with grandma, sweet and delightful to look upon, arrayed all in soft gray china silk, with a dainty little white lace cap upon her snowy hair, and dainty lace at her throat, took their seats in the carriage and were whirled out of the grounds and down the road, waving farewells as long as they were in sight.

“Now what shall we do this evening?” [Pg 161]demanded Denise, as they ran back to the piazza.

“Let’s take a walk down the road,” answered Pokey.

“No, we can’t do that, because mamma does not like me to leave the grounds when she goes out in the evening.”

“Then let’s go into the library and get a nice book and read aloud. I saw one that looked wonderfully interesting when I was looking in there the other day. It was called ‘Ernest Hart on Mesmerism,’ and I want to see what it is about.”

“My goodness! Why don’t you try to read Greek and have done with it? Why, papa would think we were crazy if we tried to read those books. Besides, I don’t think he would like to have us take them. Whenever I want to know anything about such things I ask him and he tells me all about them in just plain every-day language that I can understand. I don’t believe that we could make head or tail of [Pg 162]that book if we took it. What is mesmerism, anyway?”

“Why,—it’s—it’s—a man who can put people to sleep and make them do things they don’t know a thing about. When they wake up again they can’t remember a single thing they have done, and—why, what are you laughing about? I don’t see anything so very funny in that,” for Denise’s eyes had begun to sparkle, and a mischievous smile appeared upon her lips.

“Maybe our mesmerizings aren’t the same, but I know of one kind that is the funniest thing that you ever saw if we only had some one to mesmerize.”

“Who told you about it?”

“We did it one time at a Hallowe’en party, and we nearly died laughing. Some of the girls got angry, but most of them took it just as fun. It really was fun, for it did not do them the least harm, and it all came off.”

“What came off?” persisted Pokey, for [Pg 163]Denise’s explanation certainly left room for speculation.

“The smudge. I tell you what we’ll do. We’ll mesmerize Eliza. She’s such a good-natured old thing that she’ll not mind it a bit, and Mary will nearly have a fit when she sees her.”

Pokey’s faith in Denise was boundless, so a few moments later the conspiracy was hatched, and the two scapegraces were on their way to victimize Eliza.

Running down to the little porch just outside the laundry-door, where Eliza took her evening airing after the labors of the day were ended, the children pounced upon her, crying:

“Oh, Eliza, we have come to show you and Mary something wonderful that we have learned. Do you want to see it?”

“Somethin’ wondherful, is it, Miss Denise? Shure, yoursilf and Miss Pokey is wondhers all riddy.”

“No, but really, Eliza, this is something [Pg 164]wonderful! Have you ever heard of a man named Mesmer?”

“Mismer? What was he loike at all? Was it him thot came out to tach ye all to dance last winter?”

“Oh, no! That was Monsieur Mezereau. The man Pokey and I mean was a great magician, and could do almost anything.”

“A mugician? What did he play on, thin? A horn? Thim Frinch min does be playin’ horns mostly.”

“Oh, Eliza, she doesn’t mean a musician,” explained Pokey. “She means a man that does all sorts of tricks, and magic things like they do in the theatres. Have you ever seen one?”

“Sure! Didn’t me niphew take me to see that feller called Heller whin I was down in New York this very sphring past. Faith, he was a marvil thin, an’ no mistake. Is it him ye mane, an’ can ye do some av thim things yersels?” and Eliza clasped and unclasped her hands in excitement, for her trip to town to [Pg 165]pass a week with her married sister early in the spring, the first Mrs. Lombard had been able to persuade her to take in more than two years, had been one of the events of her life, and the happenings of that week, among which had been an evening at the theatre watching Professor Heller’s marvelous performances, had been gone over again and again for the benefit of the none too credulous Mary.

“Well, we can’t do all the things he did, of course,” said Denise, “but we can do one of them. We can put you to sleep and make you do just the things we tell you if you will let us. Will you?”

“Thot Heller man put a girl to slape, and then tuck away the thing she was slapin’ on and left her lyin’ there on the air! Could ye do thot same wid me?” demanded Eliza in amazement.

“We can put you to sleep, but we don’t know how to make you lie on the air,” answered Denise, a twinkle coming into her eyes as she surveyed Eliza’s ample proportions.

[Pg 166]

“Well thin, thry it now, an’ I’ll bet ye all me old shoes that niver a wink will ye be afther gittin’ out av me. So there now!” and Eliza settled herself comfortably back in the rocking-chair she was occupying, and looked defiance at her amateur magicians.

“Will you do just exactly as we tell you to do?” demanded Pokey.

“Sure!” with a confirming nod.

Meantime Mary, who had been having a neighborly chat across the fence with Mr. Murray’s gardener, came upon the scene, and at once became interested in the proceedings.

“There now, ye wouldn’t belave me whin I towld ye all I’d seen down yonder, would ye now?” cried Eliza, “but here the very childer know about it an’ will be afther showin’ ye. They think that they’ll be able to put me to slape! Faith, it do be wake-moinded cratures that can be sint off to the land o’ nod by thim thricks. I’m not such a fool as not to know that much. But let thim thry if they want to. [Pg 167]It’ll do me no harm, and it’ll show ye a thing or two ye’ve been doubtin’,” and Eliza, whom Mary had driven nearly to the point of distraction by teasing unmercifully when she had related some of her experiences while in town, nodded her head in the way that meant, maybe you will believe me when you have seen it tried yourself.

Pokey and Denise now came running back armed and equipped for magical deeds. They carried three plates, each one partially filled with water. When they saw Mary, Pokey cried:

“Oh, Mary, you must let me mesmerize you, while Denise mesmerizes Eliza. Will you? Please do.”

“If she kin stand it I guess I kin,” was Mary’s laughing reply, and, taking a seat beside Eliza, she waited developments. Pokey rushed back into the house and presently returned with a fourth plate.

“Now you must both do just exactly as you see us do, and you must look right straight at us every minute,” commanded Denise.

[Pg 168]

“Sure, that’s dead aisy,” answered Eliza, reaching two chubby hands for her plate.

Denise undertook to direct Eliza, while Pokey gave her attention to Mary.

“Now hold it just this way, and no other,” said Denise, adjusting the plate in Eliza’s hands in such a manner that her thumbs rested upon the rim, and her four fingers just touched the under side. “Don’t take your eyes from my face, and don’t laugh whatever you do. Mary, you do just exactly the same as you see Pokey do.”

Two chairs were then placed opposite their victims, and the children took their seats, their own plates held in precisely the same manner the maids were holding theirs.

“One, two, three,” counted Denise, and “one, two, three,” counted Pokey.

“Wan, twoo, thrae-e,” echoed Eliza, and “one, two, three,” repeated Mary, looking intently at the children.

“With this magic sign I charm thee,” droned [Pg 169]Denise, dipping her finger into her plate and making a snake-like streak across her forehead.

“’Tis the sign av the divvil himsilf, I doubt,” muttered Eliza.

“Hush! You must say exactly what I say,” commanded Denise.

“The god of sleep descend upon you,” muttered Pokey, frowning prodigiously at Mary, and making moist, wavy signs upon her own forehead, which Mary imitated with a half-laughing, half-scared look.

“Hickory, dickory, dockory, o,—Four little imps on the bottom, I know,” continued Denise, doing her best to keep a straight face, while Eliza repeated with more or less accuracy the nonsense which had sprung into Denise’s fertile brain and out of her lips, as she rubbed her fingers around and around upon the bottom of her plate, and then drew it carefully down the bridge of her tip-tilted nose; Eliza doing precisely the same so far as motion was concerned, but with a far more startling result.

[Pg 170]

“‘De gustibus non est disputandum,’”[1] quoted Pokey, airing some of the Latin which she had learned the previous winter, and which she now used with telling effect upon Mary.

“Lord have mercy upon us! She’s sayin’ the very words the praist said on Sunday last!” said Eliza, glancing hastily toward Pokey.

“Oh, you mustn’t! You mustn’t!” cried Denise. “Now pay strict attention to me. By all the powers of the little god of sleep,” and a finger was rubbed beneath the plate, and then a cross made upon her cheek: “By all the charms that he can work upon us,” another cross upon the other cheek: “By every dream that haunts us,” more vigorous rubbing upon the bottom of her plate, and cabalistic signs drawn upon her face, which were closely imitated by Eliza’s fat finger, upon her fatter face, until it would have been doubtful if her own sister, so recently visited, would have recognized [Pg 171]her. “By—, By—, oh dear! Don’t you feel the least little bit sleepy?”

“Sorry a wink! Didn’t I tell ye it would take a wake-moinded person, Mary?” turning a most triumphant, soot-marked face toward Mary, who, giving a howl of derision, let her own plate go rolling across the porch floor, to bound off the steps and land in the grass, where it lay peacefully right side up and told no tales.

“What are ye howling at me loike that for, I’d loike to know?” demanded Eliza, for Mary had come to the house when a mere slip of a girl, and Eliza had trained her in the way she should go, and laughing at her superior was not one of the duties inculcated.

“Oh, Eliza, will ye be lookin’ at yer face! ’Tis a sight for sinners ye are!”

“Well, thin,” cried Eliza, bridling, and adding red as well as black to her decorations, “maybe it would be jist as well were ye afther takin’ a look at yer own pheeziognomy in the [Pg 172]mirror there in the dinin’-room beyant, for beloik ye’d think that ye had not missed all the beauty av the whorld entoirly,” and up rose Eliza to sail majestically into the house, from whence a moment later arose a howl of wrath which caused Denise and Pokey to flee to the seclusion of the Birds’ Nest, there to confide to Ned Toodles the prank they had played upon the autocrats of the kitchen and dining-room, while said autocrats resorted to a vigorous application of pumice-stone soap and hot water, meanwhile comparing notes and vowing vengeance upon their would-be mesmerizers.

“Ah, ’tis sthrong-minded ye are, Eliza,” cried Mary, scouring vigorously, and then bursting into hearty laughter.

“Faith I do be thinkin’ it’s a nayguer I am, an’ no mistake. Did iver ye know the loikes av them childer, to take in an old woman loike me wid their palaverin’? Faith, it’s makin’ their marks in the whorld the’ll be afther doin’!”

[Pg 173]

“Glory be, but they’ve already begun on oursels, an’ no mistake,” and Mary sat down upon a near-by chair to laugh as only a light-hearted Irish girl can, even though the joke be at her own expense.

### FOOTNOTES:

[1] There is no use disputing about tastes.

[Pg 174]

## CHAPTER XIV
AUNT MIRANDA COMES TO TOWN

Vacation was slipping away all too rapidly, and the first of September drawing near to carry Pokey away from her beloved Springdale and back to the city and school duties. But Pokey was an ambitious little soul, as well as a very philosophical one, and took her blessings as they came, making the most of them for the time being, and taking up the duties with a cheerful face when the time arrived to take them—a characteristic which followed her through her whole life, and made many a wearisome burden less wearisome.

But two more weeks remained of that precious vacation, and how to make those weeks the very [Pg 175]best of all was a problem the children were settling themselves to solve one warm morning, when John appeared with the mail-bag. Springing from their seats upon the soft grass under the old apple-tree, and scattering dogs, cats, a goat, and a pony helter-skelter, the two girls rushed after him to claim any mail the bag might hold for them. True, their correspondence was not so overwhelming that they required amanuenses, but a mail-bag has a wonderful fascination for both old and young folk, and simply to watch for a possible letter was exciting.

This time there was the usual supply for each member of the family, and, although there was nothing for either of the children, there was one letter which held a peculiar, and none too pleasing, interest for the family. This one came from an aunt who usually visited the family once a year—an aunt of Mr. Lombard’s, who had seen many, many summers and winters pass by, and yet had never learned that simplest of [Pg 176]all lessons: to look upon certain situations with other people’s eyes. No, Aunt Miranda saw things with her own eyes, and why her range of vision was not the only correct one, or why some one’s else might not be equally correct, sixty-seven years spent upon this big globe had utterly failed to convince her. In her day young girls, young men, middle-aged men, and middle-aged women did thus and so, and consequently ought to do so at the present day.

It need hardly be added that her annual visit was not anticipated with enthusiasm, for, from the moment she entered the front door to the moment it closed upon her, a succession of comments, criticisms, and commands, issued as only Aunt Miranda could give voice to them, kept everybody rubbed the wrong way, and made things generally miserable.

“Oh, dear-r-r! Is she really coming day after to-morrow?” wailed Denise, in a tone very unlike her usual cheery one, for if “coming events cast their shadows before,” certainly [Pg 177]Aunt Miranda’s letter had already obscured the sun.

“Sweetheart!” said Mrs. Lombard gently.

“Yes, I know what you mean, mamma, and I know it isn’t the proper way to speak of a guest; and I know you don’t like to have me feel so; and I know that it’s just hateful to; and I know that Aunt Miranda is coming, and, oh, me, that means the fidgets for every one of us, from Beauty Buttons straight down to you, or up, just as you want to count. There! Now I’ve said my hateful things, I’ll set about getting my mind in shape for saying nice ones, when way down inside myself I feel like saying horrid ones, and if that is not being a little hypocrite I’d like to know it,” and Denise gave herself a shake as though she hated the very thought of doing something which she knew did not ring true.

Mrs. Lombard was too wise a woman to read her little daughter a lesson on manners and morals and goody-goody conduct generally, for [Pg 178]she understood human nature too well for that, and realized just how hard it was for a happy, open-hearted girl, entirely natural in speech and manner, to control herself when every act, every word, and every expression of countenance was undergoing the keenest criticism, and she was being taken to task for the very acts which had always been considered proper by those who had trained her so carefully. So now, instead of speaking harshly, or making the situation even more trying by laying down certain rules to be followed during the coming visit, she did the one thing best calculated to smooth a ruffled spirit. Laying down the unwelcome letter, she took Denise’s rather defiant face in both her hands, drew her gently toward her, and kissed her ever so softly just under the little curls upon her forehead, saying as she did so:

“If it were not for the little clouds in the sky we should never half appreciate the sunshine, darling. We all have obligations, and you and I will endeavor to meet ours gracefully, even [Pg 179]though they are not as pleasant as they might be. One little week out of our lives will hardly count, and some day we shall both be old and, possibly, peculiar ourselves. Then we will be glad to have others tolerant of our peculiarities. But in the present case we must both fill the rôle of hostess, and, as the Scots say, ‘Stranger is a holy name.’ Aunt Miranda is not a stranger to us by any means, but if we substitute the word ‘guest’ for that of ‘stranger,’ we shall hold to the spirit of the old saying, and that is all we need consider. Shall we try to remember, Sweetheart?”

“I’d be the crankiest old thing that ever lived if I didn’t, and Aunt Miranda will find me a perfect saint!” cried Denise, the laugh coming back to her usually sunny face.

“Not a saint; they are entirely too oppressive for every-day life; just a ‘creature not too wise or good for human nature’s daily food,’ you know,” answered Mrs. Lombard, with a final pat upon Denise’s head, and a smile for Pokey.

[Pg 180]

In the course of time Aunt Miranda, her baggage, and her whims arrived. Denise and Pokey drove to the station with John when he went to meet that estimable lady, and were greeted with:

“My heart and body! how do you ever expect me to get into that carriage with you in it already? I can’t abide being crushed, and I shall not put my bag and things on the bottom of the carriage.”

“Oh, Pokey and I will sit on the front seat of the surrey with John, Aunt Miranda, and you can put all your things on the seat beside you,” cried Denise, remembering her mother’s gentle words, and doing her best to overcome the spirit of rebellion which this “dash of cold water” instantly summoned up within her, for Aunt Miranda had not taken the slightest notice of her greeting, but, pushing her to one side, had sailed straight for the surrey, and the opening remark had been her first words.

“And crowd him up so that he can’t manage [Pg 181]the horses? Not if I know it! I never risk my life with fractious horses.”

“Oh, Sunshine and Flash are never fractious!” cried Denise, prompt to defend her favorites. “They are only spirited, and John can manage them perfectly.”

Aunt Miranda turned upon her like a whirlwind. “Young lady, will you be good enough to let me have an opinion of my own? I’ve ridden behind those animals more than once, I can assure you, and I think that I know a thing or two about them which even you, with all your wisdom, may not have learned yet. Elizabeth Delano, come right out of that surrey! You and Denise (where on earth your father and mother ever found that heathenish name I can’t conceive) may walk home. ’Twon’t hurt you one mite. Then I’ll put my things on that seat and set Lorenzo on this seat beside me; he can’t bear to be away from me a moment,” and she held forth to John, who was already seething inwardly, a [Pg 182]bag and bundle of shawls, while she firmly grasped a huge cage which held the idolized “Lorenzo,” a parrot of many accomplishments and diabolical temper.

Pokey came meekly forth, and Aunt Miranda stalked into the place she had vacated. The cage was settled beside her, her traps beside John, and her orders issued.

“Now, don’t you children come tearing home as though your lives depended upon your getting there within the next five minutes. It’s only eleven o’clock now, and your luncheon won’t be ready for two hours. So take your time, do you understand?”

“Wait here, Miss Denise, and I’ll drive back for you and Miss Pokey,” said John, for he was wroth with the elderly maiden who would make his young mistress tramp nearly a mile through the sultry August heat.

“You’ll do nothing of the sort! My heart and body, do you suppose it is going to kill two perfectly healthy girls to walk that distance? [Pg 183]In my time girls walked or stayed home, I can tell you. No such nonsense as teams being sent for them. Now you girls come right along behind; do you understand?” and Aunt Miranda wagged a lisle-covered finger at the bewildered pair upon the platform. But before further orders could be issued, John adroitly drew the long whip-lash gently across Flash’s flanks, and that sagacious horse needed no broader hint to put a quietus to Aunt Miranda’s tirade. It was all fun and good spirits, but when Flash “arose to the occasion” by rearing upon his hind feet and then making a dash forward, which Sunshine was not slow in following, Aunt Miranda had all she wished to attend to.

“My heart and body! My heart and body!” she screamed, grasping the front seat with one hand and holding on to Lorenzo for dear life with the other. “Look out for those demons! Didn’t I say they were fractious? I shall do all in my power to persuade Lewis to sell them [Pg 184]at once. They are not fit to be driven by any one! Vicious brutes!”

“Oh, that’s jist the tickle in their fate, ma’am,” said John, doing his best not to smile, and sending at the same time a silent message along the reins all too well understood by those sagacious beasts. That ride of three-quarters of a mile was a wild one, for if John could not speak his mind to the lady behind him, he certainly held a means of retaliation which worked to a charm, and when he finally whisked her up to the door=step, both she and Lorenzo had experienced a very lively five minutes, and a more flustered bird, or more flustered elderly lady, it would have been difficult to find.

“Emilie Lombard, if you ever send those horses for me again I shall refuse to ride behind them!” was the greeting Mrs. Lombard heard as she hastened to welcome her guest. “They are perfect demons; just nothing but demons! Here, let me get out before they kill me outright! [Pg 185]Never, never again shall I ride in this carriage! There, there! Be careful how you handle Lorenzo, Mary. He has been nearly shaken to death as it is, and I dare say will be ill from the fright. No, don’t touch that bag! It has my camphor and smelling-salts, to say nothing of several other things, which I never permit any one to touch, in it. Emilie, you hold this while I get out, and John, get straight down and hold those beasts’ heads. I sha’n’t stir one step from this carriage unless you do, and I don’t know but what I’ll die of fright if I stay in it. My heart and body, why people can want to drive such fractious animals is entirely beyond my understanding.”

John obediently dismounted, and, going to the horses’ heads, began the little freemasonry which he and they so well understood, with the result that they nosed and mumbled him like a pair of kittens, and no kittens could have shown more coyness than they while their irate passenger was removing herself and her belongings [Pg 186]from the carriage, and fussing and bustling herself into the house.

“Faith, we fixed her well that toime, didn’t we now, me dandies?” said John with a knowing laugh, as he gave a final pat to the pretty creatures, and sprang back into the surrey. “And now we’ll spin back for the young ladies, that we will, and never turn a hair for the spin. Walk home is it they will? Faith, I’d loike to see thim doin’ the loiks of it if me and you knows what we’re about! Now, thin! Off wid yees!”

[Pg 187]

## CHAPTER XV
AUNT MIRANDA AND NED HAVE A LITTLE ALTERCATION

It all began with Beauty Buttons. Ordinarily Beauty was a well-behaved dog, but even a well-behaved dog has been known, to resent discourtesies, and Beauty had a grievance. In the first place, he knew his rights and privileges, and meant to have them respected One of these was to lie upon the couch-rug in the guest-room if he chose to do so. With Aunt Miranda’s advent that privilege was withheld for the time being, but of this, of course, Beauty was ignorant, and when he felt disposed to take a little siesta in the cool, inviting guest-room, thither he made his way, and was peacefully dreaming of luscious bones when Aunt Miranda [Pg 188]pounced upon him, and, with one sweep of her strong right arm, sent him sprawling upon the floor, there to blink at her with sleep-stupefied eyes until another swoop sent him scurrying out of the room to rush to the Birds’ Nest, there, no doubt, to confide his wrongs to Ned Toodles’ sympathetic ears, and receive assurance that they would be avenged at the earliest possible moment. The moment arrived that very afternoon.

“Emilie Lombard, how am I to get to the village to register this letter?” demanded Aunt Miranda shortly after luncheon.

“John will take it for you, Aunt Miranda, if it is very important,” answered Mrs. Lombard.

“No he won’t, either! Catch me trusting an important letter to that Irishman! He would not know the difference between a registered letter and one to be sent special delivery; I shall take it myself. But how am I to get there, I’d like to know?”

“John will drive you up in time for the outgoing mail if you wish to have him.”

[Pg 189]

“Drive me with what? Not those demons, I can tell you. I would not go with those horses if I never went.”

“Oh, you really need not feel any alarm. They are perfectly safe. I will accompany you if it will make you feel any easier.”

“And like enough both of us will be killed. No. I shall go in the pony-carriage. If that snip of a horse cuts up I shall get out and put him in the carriage and drag him home,” asserted Aunt Miranda, in happy innocence of that small beast’s capabilities when he was not treated with proper respect. Moreover, did he not have a wrong to avenge for a fellow-pet?

“Very well, Denise will drive you to the post-office with pleasure,” was Mrs. Lombard’s gentle reply.

“She won’t drive me with pleasure or anything else, for I mean to drive myself!” was the startling statement, made with a series of positive wags of Aunt Miranda’s head.

“Oh—” began Denise, who, with Pokey, had [Pg 190]been a silent listener to the foregoing conversation, and who could no longer keep quiet, for well she knew what might be expected from Ned if Aunt Miranda undertook to drive him to the village.

“Now, Miss, you need make no remarks, nor advance any opinions. I drove long before you, or your mother, were born, and I have an idea that I can drive yet. At any rate, I mean to try, and it won’t do a mite of good for you to try to stop me. I’m going!”

Denise gave one imploring look at her mother, who answered it with another which meant, “We will not say another word.”

The order was given, and twenty minutes later Aunt Miranda took her seat in the little phaeton, her tall, spare figure towering up from it like a liberty-pole, and her face set in determination to drive that atom of an animal or die in the attempt.

“Now you stand right there at his head until I get comfortably settled, you man. I don’t [Pg 191]want to be jerked all to pieces before I get my clothes settled right, and that beast seems to have been imbibing some of those horses’ ideas,” she said, as Ned cocked one wicked eye back toward her as she stepped into the carriage. “And you come and tuck this linen robe in so that it won’t drag a mile on the ground,” she continued, beckoning to Denise, who stood at the foot of the steps, undecided whether to offer her services or keep discreetly in the background. She came obediently forward at the bidding, Pokey hastening to the other side of the phaeton to do her share. “Stand aside. Keep out of the way. One person can do this easy enough,” was the ungracious speech which greeted Pokey’s overture.

“Now hand me those reins. There! I’d like to see him cut up now!” she said, as she gave the reins a twist about her hands, and held them as though she were holding an elephant. “Now stand out of my way, all of you. Now!” and giving the loud cluck which she felt to be [Pg 192]the correct signal for a start, and slapping the reins upon Ned’s back, she essayed to start. John had held Ned’s head up to this moment, but now he let go, and, with a bound, Ned started forward, to find himself suddenly jerked almost upon his haunches.

“Not if I know it, you little villain!” cried his driver.

Ned came to a standstill, but gave his head two or three ominous shakes sidewise, which, to any one understanding him as Denise understood him, meant mischief ahead, but Aunt Miranda merely regarded them as a proof of her control over him.

“Now I shall take my time and go by the river-road,” she announced to those watching her, “and you need not expect me back for more than an hour. I’ve no notion of being hustled about.”

At the announcement that she was going by the river-road, Denise sprang forward and clasped her hands about her mother’s arm, [Pg 193]whispering excitedly: “Oh, mamma, she ought not go that way with Ned. You know Mr. Blair’s Nero!”

“Aunt Miranda,” called Mrs. Lombard, “I would advise you to take the other road. Mr. Blair’s—” but Aunt Miranda had not paused for any instructions, and, with a backward nod, drove off with determination in her eye and defiance in her attitude.

Now Ned’s mouth still pained from the jerk it had received, and Ned’s sense of right and justice had been outraged at the very outset. He was never vicious, but, on the other hand, he was invariably wisely handled, and carefully driven. A horse’s mouth, if properly treated, is a wonderfully sensitive thing, and Ned’s was filled with many delicate nerves which had never been abused. But there was nothing gentle about the person who now had him in hand, and the poor little beast was having anything but a pleasant time of it. With arms stretched straight out in front of [Pg 194]her, reins grasped as though she were driving upon a race-track, and her body as rigidly erect as though an instant’s relaxation would bring instant death, she sent her charger along the one road in all Springdale that he detested, for midway between his home and the village lived his sworn enemy, Mr. Blair’s big Newfoundland dog. Several months before, Denise had had an experience the like of which neither she nor Ned wished repeated. She was driving home from the post-office one morning, when over Mr. Blair’s high fence bounded a huge dog, to rush into the road and pounce upon Ned’s back, and bite savagely at the saddle. It was fortunate for Ned that the dog happened to set his teeth in the harness, or the poor little horse would have had a very bad quarter of an hour indeed. Denise held on to the reins, and laid the whip upon the dog with a will, but it made little impression upon his shaggy coat, and something very serious might have occurred had not Mr. Blair’s groom rushed to their [Pg 195]rescue to beat the dog off and drag him back to their own grounds. But both Denise and Ned had received a thorough fright, and after that carefully avoided the river-road.

As he approached Mr. Blair’s grounds, Ned steadily increased his pace, evidently wishing to get past as speedily as possible. But Aunt Miranda entirely mistook his motive, and set herself to work to discipline him. They got past the danger-point, and went upon their way, doing the errand at the post-office without any interruption, and all would have gone well had Aunt Miranda taken the broad hint which Ned tried to give her when they came to the two roads leading toward home. Ned wished to take the upper one. Aunt Miranda wished to take the lower one, and for a few minutes it was a question as to which would carry their point.

What was really “good horse sense” upon Ned’s part, Aunt Miranda chose to regard as balkiness, and set herself religiously to work [Pg 196]to overcome it. A lively scuffle ensued, and for a few moments it seemed as though the occupant of that little phaeton would have to make good her threat of putting Ned into it and dragging him home if she wished to have him go that particular road. Presently he stopped his antics, stood stock-still, and seemed to consider the situation. Then, giving a defiant neigh, he started pell-mell down the road she wished to follow, as though to say:

“You stupid old thing, I’ve done my best to keep you out of trouble, but if you are determined to have it, why go ahead. Because Nero was not around when we came up, it is no reason to feel sure that he won’t be there when we go back, and if you come to grief it will be your own fault. I’ll take my chances, and if I don’t make good use of my legs in an emergency, it will not be my fault. Now come on with you!” and off he pelted full tilt. In vain did Aunt Miranda tug at those reins. Ned had the bit in his teeth and she might as well have tugged [Pg 197]at a post, for fear of Nero, combined with his determination to get past that dreaded spot as speedily as possible, settled Aunt Miranda’s fate, and Ned was putting for friends and safety.

“You little wretch, how dare you? It is all because you have been utterly spoiled with coddling. Such nonsense! There never was a beast or child that wasn’t utterly ruined with such folly. Will you go slower and behave yourself?” and Aunt Miranda tugged with a will. Now Ned’s sight was keen and his hearing acute, and what Aunt Miranda neither saw nor heard owing to her tirade toward him, he saw and heard distinctly.

They came to the Blair grounds, were speeding past, when over the fence sprang a creature which Aunt Miranda took to be nothing less than a bear. She let go her right rein, grabbed for the whip, meantime tugging with might and main upon her left rein. Perhaps it was this which really saved her, for when the great dog [Pg 198]saw what he took to be a still greater one, turn directly toward him, as though to pounce straight upon him, some of his courage failed him and he paused for just a second. But in that second a number of things happened. The sudden jerk upon the left rein had thrown Ned completely out of his gait, and caused him to swerve suddenly toward the gutter, which was nothing more than a deep gully beside the road. Into it went the wheels, and over tipped the phaeton, landing Aunt Miranda, whip and all, in a heap. As she fell out, the sudden overturn brought the whip full upon Ned’s back, and at the same moment she loosened her hold upon the other rein. Thus released, and with a stinging lash across his haunches, it was no wonder that Ned took the broad hint to depart, and he departed with might and main; tearing down the road with the phaeton bounding along behind him, for it had righted almost instantly, he paused not upon the order of going, or for ladies who for the past hour had made life a wearisome thing for him, [Pg 199]to say nothing of having ill-treated his chief crony, Beauty Buttons, but went with a will.

The shriek which issued from Aunt Miranda’s lips when she landed in the soft grass of the gully, did double duty, for it scared the cowardly dog half out of his wits and also summoned Mr. Blair’s groom, who came running to the rescue of the irate lady sitting bolt upright in the gutter.

“Are you hurt, ma’am? Are you hurt?” demanded the man anxiously as he bent over her.

“Hurt! It is a wonder that I’m not killed! Who owns that dog? I am going at once to have him killed. Stand back, I don’t need any help. But that dog has got to die! Take me to your master this minute,” and up she rose to stalk after the astonished man.

[Pg 200]

## CHAPTER XVI
AUNT MIRANDA INTERVIEWS NERO’S OWNER

“Here is a lady to speak with you, sir. She—”

“Stand aside! Get out of my way! I can say what I wish to. Do you own that savage beast which sprang over your fence and caused me to be upset in your gutter?”

Mr. Blair arose from his chair beside his library table, and stood speechless, for Aunt Miranda had followed close upon the groom’s heels, and brushed him aside like a fly when he attempted to explain why he was forcing himself into his master’s presence unannounced, and bringing with him an elderly lady very much the worse for her sudden spill, and wild with rage at its cause.

[Pg 201]

“Whom have I the pleasure of seeing?” began Mr. Blair.

“I don’t know that it will make the least difference to you who I am, and as for the pleasure it will give you, perhaps it will prove quite the reverse, for I have come to insist upon the death of that savage brute you see fit to own and allow to rush from your grounds to attack inoffensive passers-by. Such an outrage I have never in all my life heard of. Suppose I had been killed? What do you suppose my niece will think when that pony comes tearing home, as he no doubt has already done, without me? I tell you a dog like that cannot be allowed to live. Now how soon will you kill him?”

“Why, really, madam,—” began Mr. Blair, but got no further, for—

“I’m not madam at all. I’m Miss, and expect to remain so all my days, for there never yet lived a man that I would let dictate to me, and I’m pretty capable of looking out for myself. So we will drop that and attend to the dog [Pg 202]question. Have you a revolver, and will you shoot him? I sha’n’t leave this place until I see him ready for burying,” and down she planted herself upon a near-by chair, and began settling her tossed-about bonnet.

If ever a man looked nonplused, Mr. Blair was that man, for Nero was a very valuable dog, and, aside from his dislike of Ned, whom he evidently took to be a Newfoundland dog, like himself, was a faithful, valued watch-dog. What in the world to say, or do, in order to pacify this irate old lady who had suddenly pounced upon him with such an extraordinary demand, and how to get her out of his house without bodily ejecting her, was a question too tremendous for him to answer. Before he could collect his wits, and do so, an interruption came from an unexpected source, and he was spared the ordeal.

Meantime things were happening at home. John had just stepped from the stable to go to the house when there fell upon his ears the [Pg 203]rapid clipperty-clip! clipperty-clip! of rushing feet, and down the road came Ned upon a dead run, the phaeton spinning along behind him, and the carriage-rug flying out behind like a danger-signal.

“The Lord have mercy upon us, and what has tuk place wid the old lady now?” gasped John, and he rushed toward the entrance-gate to call to Ned, and stop his mad career before he could come to grief.

Ned recognized the well-known voice instantly, and as though it brought reassurance to him at once, he slackened his pace, and a second later stood with his head nestled in John’s arms, while that good soul patted and comforted him as he would have comforted a frightened child. Ned was wringing wet with perspiration, and panting from the combined effects of fear and his wild stampede, and John was filled with indignation at the sight, for well he realized what a runaway, resulting from a fright, meant to horse or pony.

[Pg 204]

“Ah, me bonny lad, me bonny lad, quiet down now; quiet down now. Don’t ye know that it’s John what’s got ye, and never a sthroke af har-rm kin come near ye? There now; there now. Faith, I’d like to have jist wan word with that mule-headed old lady what drove ye to the village. She’d be afther rememberin’ what John Noonan said to her, I’ll bet me last cint. Bad cess to her and her fool ways,” and John led his charge toward the Birds’ Nest. Mrs. Lombard and the children had heard the clatter of Ned’s hoofs, and now came hurrying upon the scene, and, as though even John’s consolation sank into insignificance beside hers, Ned gave a loud neigh, and started toward Denise.

“Oh, my precious pony!” she cried, as she put her arms about his neck, and kissed the damp muzzle, never stopping to think or care whether Ned was as moist as though he had been dipped into the river. “What did Aunt Miranda do to you? What did she do?” for [Pg 205]Ned’s mouth showed signs of his rough handling, and it filled Denise with indignation. “Oh, mamma, just look at his poor mouth! It is all cut from being jerked and pulled so. How could Aunt Miranda treat him so? How could she?” cried Denise almost in tears, while Pokey cuddled and caressed the misused little beast from the opposite side.

But much as Mrs. Lombard was distressed at the sight of Ned’s deplorable condition, she was still more alarmed at the thought of what might have befallen Ned’s passenger, and said:

“We must go at once to learn what has happened to Aunt Miranda, and where she is. Something very serious may have occurred, and I am terribly distressed. Harness as quickly as possible, John, and leave Ned to the children’s care. We must go at once to find Miss Lombard.”

John flew to do his mistress’s bidding, although deep down in his heart he harbored the wicked wish that the object of their search [Pg 206]had received a wholesome lesson, and that it would prove sufficiently wholesome to induce her to take her departure from Springdale at an earlier date than she had contemplated.

In a very few minutes the surrey stood at the door, and Mrs. Lombard took her seat in it, to be whirled toward the village. She entertained little doubt of the cause of the disaster, as Ned had come home by the dreaded river-road, so thither she made her way as fast as Sunshine and Flash could speed her, and that was by no means a snail-pace. As they drove along the road they discovered traces of Aunt Miranda by the way, for, after mailing her letter, she had made several small purchases, and these, with the cushion of the phaeton, were dotted along the road. When they came to the scene of her spill, there lay the whip, and her change-purse, and the story was told.

Turning directly into Mr. Blair’s grounds, Mrs. Lombard stopped at the door-step, and was met by Mrs. Blair, who strove in vain to [Pg 207]restrain her laughter, for she had been sitting in the adjoining room, and had overheard the conversation her husband was holding with his angry guest.

“Pray tell me what has happened?” began Mrs. Lombard.

“Forgive me for smiling, but if you could hear the controversy taking place in the library at this moment, I am sure you would smile, too. Miss Lombard is endeavoring to convince Mr. Blair that Nero should be taken to instant execution, and he, poor man, is striving to collect his wits sufficiently to know how to gratify her, yet spare the dog’s life. But I cannot tell you how sorry we are that such a thing should have happened. Nero jumped the fence again, and rushed upon Ned. Patrick saw him and rushed to the rescue in time to see Miss Lombard pull Ned into the ditch, where she was very gently spilled out of the little carriage, and where she sat bolt upright when he ran to her aid. She was not in the least hurt, and I hope that Ned [Pg 208]was not, and she is even now laying down the law to Mr. Blair. Step into this room a moment and you will excuse my mirth, I believe.”

They went into the room next to the library, and divided from it by a heavy portiere, just in time to hear:

“Very well, if you do not shoot him, I shall go straight back to the village and get an officer to do it. Mark my word, that dog will be a dead one before I sleep this night. He is not fit to live! Not fit to live!”

“Dear me, we certainly all have our trials in this world,” whispered Mrs. Lombard, as she moved toward the library, and a moment later was using all her persuasive powers to induce Aunt Miranda to come home with her. After many attempts to soothe that lady’s ruffled spirit, she at last succeeded in bringing about a truce between her and Mr. Blair. Nero should live until Mr. Lombard’s return from town that evening, and then Mr. Blair and Mr. Lombard should agree upon his fate. With this Miss [Pg 209]Lombard had to feel satisfied, and, with a vigorous shake of her head, Aunt Miranda followed her niece from Mr. Blair’s home, much to that harassed man’s relief. But when the door-step was gained a new difficulty confronted them, for Miss Lombard would not get into the surrey.

“But it is quite a long walk,” urged Mrs. Lombard, “and after your fright you ought not tax yourself.”

“Tax myself! Do you think I am an invalid? It would take a good deal more than that snip of a horse to unnerve me. I am not hurt a mite, but, my heart and body! I’d like to have a reckoning with that dog. I will, too, before I am done. Now get into that surrey and ride home if you aren’t equal to the walk. I am, and I’ll do it.”

“I shall walk with you,” said Mrs. Lombard very quietly, but very decidedly. Aunt Miranda gave one swift glance at the sweet-faced, dignified lady beside her and said:

“Humph!”

[Pg 210]

John grumbled inwardly and drove slowly along the road.

When Mr. Lombard returned that evening, Aunt Miranda pounced upon him with her woes. He listened to all she had to say, and then said in his positive way, possibly some of her own determination had been inherited by him, and she had met her match in him, even though he was ordinarily the gentlest of men:

“So you came to grief simply because you would have your own way, and would not listen to the advice offered by those who had had some experience with Mr. Blair’s dog, even though they were considerably younger than yourself? Is that the case, Aunt Miranda?”

“He has no right to keep such a dog!”

“That may all be true, too. But how would you suggest preventing him from so doing if he chooses?”

“What is the law for, I’d like to know?” demanded Aunt Miranda.

[Pg 211]

“To help Mr. Blair keep a dog, and prevent his neighbors from destroying it, is one of its provinces.”

“And encourage him in harboring an animal which flies over his fence to tear people to pieces?” was the indignant query.

“Well, you see, Nero is a pretty valuable dog, notwithstanding his aversion for small horses which insult him by resembling him; and, even though I have pretty good cause to feel anything but friendly toward him, I cannot in justice blame the dog for trying to ‘do’ a dog bigger than himself. True, I should be glad to convince him of his error, and think that I shall do so by taking Ned up there and letting them get acquainted. At present it is not safe for Denise to drive by there, and for that reason she has been forbidden to do so. Had you been willing to listen to the warning given, you would have been spared a fright, and a number of other unpleasant things, as well as our being spared one, and having the pony frightened and caused [Pg 212]to run away. Was the game worth the candle?” and a very quizzical expression came over Mr. Lombard’s face.

“I never allow people younger than myself to dictate to me!”

“We are never too old to give heed to a kind or a wise suggestion, my dear aunt, and, even though you are my senior, I shall take the liberty of advising you to do so when it is liable to prove for your own good.”

Now Aunt Miranda hated to be talked to in this manner as she hated the evil one himself, and up she bounced, crying:

“Lewis Lombard, I have spanked you more than once in your life, and I don’t propose to take your impertinence now. Your father was always as weak as water, and that is the reason he had such a headstrong son.”

“We will not discuss my father, Aunt Miranda,” replied Mr. Lombard in a tone which caused Aunt Miranda to recall the gentle, dignified man whom she had detested simply [Pg 213]because she could not rule him, but who was over the courteous gentleman to her.

“Well, thank goodness I shall not have to remain in a town which harbors such a beast. I shall leave day after to-morrow.”

And two days later Aunt Miranda, her parrot, and her bundles were conveyed to the station by one of the village hacks, as she still stoutly refused to enter the surrey.

[Pg 214]

## CHAPTER XVII
NED DISGRACES HIMSELF, BUT MAKES AMENDS

The first of September came all too quickly. Pokey’s trunk was packed, and Pokey, with many regrets, and many yearnings for a longer stay in her beloved Springdale, set her face toward Brooklyn, and school. As usual, Denise was forlorn for several days, but it is hard to remain doleful when one is but twelve years old, and the world is a very lovely place indeed. Her own studies would not be resumed until October, when the cool, crisp air would turn work into pleasure, and the young brain, fresh and keenly receptive after its long rest, would be ready to grasp and retain new ideas and new impressions.

During Pokey’s visit Denise had scarcely [Pg 215]ridden Ned at all, but now that she was alone once more, riding presented a novelty, all the more alluring because she had not indulged in it for several weeks. The day after Pokey’s departure Denise had Ned saddled, and started off for a canter. The little beast seemed to enjoy the outing quite as much as she did, and swung along with the easy motion so natural to him when under the saddle. They chose a pretty road leading along the river-bank, but in the opposite direction from the village, as Denise did not wish to take any chances with Nero, and, so far as she knew, no belligerent animals lived along the road she and Ned were following so happily. But, alas! how easily our most carefully laid plans can go amiss.

Denise rode gracefully and easily, and it required something rather out of the ordinary to unseat her. They were cantering along beneath the beautiful elms which bordered the road and cast their shadows upon it, making it sweet and cool that delightful morning, when, just behind [Pg 216]the hedge dividing it from a gentleman’s grounds, there arose a wild yapping which caused Ned to shake his head as though he were disgusted with such a discordant sound when all was so silent and restful about them.

“Do we know that dog?” Denise asked, as though Ned were able to understand and reply to her question. But such questions were not unusual. She and Ned held amazing conversations, each in a language well understood by the other. Ned tossed his head up and down in an irritable sort of manner, as though he were trying to say, “I don’t think that he is one of our friends,” and somewhat increased his pace. The hedge was a high one, and they could not see over it, but, before they had gone ten yards, a fluffy, clumsy puppy wriggled through a gap just behind them, and came tearing after them as fast as he could run.

Now neither Denise nor Ned had any objections to puppies in general, or to this one in particular, and would have attended strictly to [Pg 217]their own business had he only seen fit to attend to his, but this puppy had recently arrived upon the scene, and felt that he had much to discover. His master had bought him at a dog fancier’s in New York, where the greater part of his life had been spent in very limited quarters, and his walks abroad had been taken at the end of a chain. Now, joy to tell! he had ten-acre grounds to cavort about in, but, like many another creature who suddenly finds himself surrounded by almost boundless luxury, after narrow limitations, he wanted an ell when a very liberal inch had been voluntarily given him.

So he proceeded to take it by wriggling under the hedge, and, once out upon the highway, there he beheld a sight which instantly banished what small remnant of common sense remained to him, and he set about having a royal good time.

If Denise had any notion of getting out of his blundering way, he had no idea of allowing [Pg 218]her to do so, and, almost before a breath could be drawn, his legs and Ned’s were being tied up in hard knots.

“Yap, yap,” barked the tormenting little beast, making wild grabs at Ned’s flowing tail, or snapping at his fetlocks.

“Get away, you stupid thing!” cried Denise, reaching over to give him a well-merited lash with her riding-whip. But she might as well have tried to hit a will-o’-the-wisp, for, clumsy as he seemed, that vexatious little beast was wonderfully agile, and seemed to regard the action as part of the fun. Helter-skelter, around and about he scurried, one minute in front of Ned, the next minute snapping at his heels, until it was no wonder that such a well-conducted animal’s patience became exhausted, and he felt that this tomfoolery had gone far enough.

“Of all the crazy things I have ever seen, you certainly are the craziest!” exclaimed Denise, doing her best to get unsnarled from the little [Pg 219]wretch. “Go!” she cried, giving the word that Ned understood so well, and was always so quick to respond to. And “go,” he did.

With one wild leap, he bounded straight over his tormentor, and made a dash for freedom, but even as he sprang forward that miserable puppy got in the last stroke, which settled matters in short order, for he gave a final vicious snap at Ned’s heels, and his sharp teeth pricked like needles.

That was too much! Ned forgot the beloved burden he was carrying, forgot that Denise was somewhat off her guard, and more liable to become unseated than she would ordinarily have been. Out flew two hind feet to administer one and one very telling, vicious kick at that hateful little beast, which caught him fairly and squarely in his ribs, and sent him howling back to his friends. But, alack-a-day! it accomplished other things also, for away shot Denise clear and clean over Ned’s head, to land in a heap in the dust of the road, where she lay for [Pg 220]a moment half stunned by the shock, although not seriously hurt.

If ever an animal’s face expressed consternation and contrition Ned’s certainly did then, and, with one wild neigh, he rushed up to his beloved little mistress just as a carriage rapidly approached from the other direction. Now some people assert with a good bit of assurance that animals do not think, particularly that horses do not. Nevertheless, what I am about to tell you is as true as anything in this world can be. Ned stood beside his prone rider, his eyes wild with fright and quivering in every limb. That carriage was coming toward her as fast as ever it could come, and why, oh! why, didn’t she get out of its way? It would certainly run over her, and those big, prancing horses would crush something which he loved better than anything in this world. They must not! No, they should not do it, and he must prevent them if possible. Poor little Ned Toodles could not understand that the very haste with which the [Pg 221]carriage approached meant succor for Denise, for the occupants had witnessed the whole scene, and were filled with dismay at its ending.

It was almost upon them when Ned gave another neigh, and did that which caused the lady in the carriage to clasp her hands together and almost scream aloud. He stepped directly over Denise, and stood with his front and hind legs astride her, thereby making it impossible for the big horses to harm her without first crushing him. The brave little head was raised in defiance, and the nostrils snorted a challenge to those great creatures which he thought were about to trample his mistress beneath their feet. Dear little Ned Toodles, you have been dust these many years, but your mistress has never forgotten that brave deed, and her eyes fill with tears when she recalls this proof of your devotion to her.

The coachman drew up his horses beside the fallen girl and her courageous little horse, the lady hastily descended from the carriage, and a [Pg 222]second later held Denise in her arms, Ned nosing and nickering over her as though he were trying to express his sorrow and console her for her fall.

“You darling!” exclaimed the lady, sparing a hand to rub his velvety nose, even though she was seriously alarmed for Denise. But Denise was not injured, and presently opened her eyes to blink at Ned and look with surprise at the lady holding her.

“Why, what happened to me?” she cried, sitting straight up and looking at those gathered about her.

“Nothing serious, I hope,” answered the lady. “You took a header over your pony’s neck, and it stunned you for a moment. But he took such wonderful care of you that no great harm has come to you, I think.”

“Oh! I fell off when Ned kicked at that horrid little dog, didn’t I? But I am not hurt a bit, although I feel sort of all shaken up and tossed about,” said Denise, as she got upon her feet [Pg 223]and began settling her dusty habit. Ned scrooched close up to her, as though striving to apologize, and Denise put her arm about his neck.

“Poor little Ned Toodles, did you think you had killed your missie?” she asked, as she rested her still dizzy head upon his shaggy mane. “No, I’m not a bit dead, and when I get my wits we will go home and tell mamma all about it before some one else has a chance to do it, and frighten her half to death. Thank you ever so much for helping me,” she said to the lady.

“We are more than glad that we came along just as we did, even though you seem to have a very efficient protector in your pony. It was the most wonderful thing I have ever seen. Won’t you get into the carriage with me and tell me something about yourself and him? I am a stranger in Springdale, but I am sure I have stumbled upon one of its attractions.”

“Ned is considered quite remarkable,” answered [Pg 224]Denise, never for a moment appropriating even a portion of the compliment. “We have been so much together since I got him two years ago that I half believe he has grown to be just like folks. But I don’t believe that I would better get into the carriage. I feel nearly all right now, and if mamma were to see me coming home in the carriage and Ned following it, she might be frightened. Ned won’t spill me again, and it wasn’t so much his fault anyway; if I had been thinking what I was about I never would have fallen, for he often jumps a fence or ditch and I never think of spilling off. But that puppy drove all my wits out of my head, I believe; the horrid little thing!”

“Well, we will drive along beside you, at all events, and if you do not feel just right you can dismount and come into the carriage with me.”

“Thank you very much, but I don’t think that I shall have to,” and, turning to Ned, she cuddled and stroked him before mounting him again. Ned met her more than half-way, and [Pg 225]the lady smiled at the pretty bit of by-play she was watching, although the actors were entirely unconscious that they were doing anything out of the ordinary.

Leading Ned to the stepping-stone beside the road, Denise settled herself upon his back, although, ordinarily, she would not have required any aid in mounting. But her head was still unsteady, and the usual spring to her seat did not seem as easy a thing as it ordinarily would have seemed.

They walked along side by side, the lady keeping a watchful eye upon Denise, and feeling greatly entertained by her. As though to make full amends for his temporary lapse from good behavior, Ned Toodles pattered along beside the carriage as sedately as any old stager might have done, and when they came to Denise’s home stopped for her to bid her friend farewell. But Mrs. Lombard was walking about the grounds, and only one glance from that mother’s eye was needed to discover that [Pg 226]something had happened to that very precious little daughter, and she hastened to the gate. Then followed explanations, and began an acquaintance which, ere long, ripened into a very warm friendship, and Ned’s first misdemeanor resulted in something very delightful for his little mistress and her mother.

[Pg 227]

## CHAPTER XVIII
A BIRTHDAY FROLIC AND WHAT CAME OF IT

“Oh, what fun! Are we all going? And way down to Summit Ridge? Who planned it? Are we to stay all day long?” were the questions which poured rapidly from Denise’s lips one bright October morning when Hart came rushing over to ask if she might accompany a party of young people upon an outing planned for the coming week. He had been away from Springdale for several weeks, reveling in the delights of the seashore, but his family had now returned for the winter, and his studies, as well as Denise’s, had commenced.

Mrs. Lombard stood beside them listening, and smiling at the eager faces before her. Presently she said:

[Pg 228]

“Which day next week have you chosen?”

“We had to choose Saturday, you know, on account of school. We aren’t all so lucky as Denise, having a governess who will let us off at a pinch,” and Hart looked mischievously up into Mrs. Lombard’s face.

She reached over to give a tweak to his curly “forelock,” and reply: “Don’t be so sure of that. She is not let off so easily as you seem to think. After such a long holiday we expect even more wonderful things. So the frolic is planned for Saturday next. Was it prearranged?”

“Why no; what do you mean?”

“Oh, oh! I know! It will the thirteenth, and my birthday! Isn’t that just splendid?”

“Honest? Oh, I say, that’s just dandy, isn’t it? No, I didn’t know a thing about it, and I don’t believe the others did, either. At any rate, they didn’t say a word about it. But it’s great luck. Say, we sort of stumble on each other’s festive days, don’t we? Do you remember [Pg 229]how you hit upon mine last spring? Then I’ll tell them you will go, of course?”

“Of course I’ll go; won’t I, Moddie?”

“First a positive assertion, and then a doubt; ‘he who hesitates is lost,’” quoted Mrs. Lombard, laughing.

“Then I won’t hesitate; I’ll go,” and Denise ran prancing off to the Birds’ Nest, followed by Hart, for they had many things to talk over after a separation of six weeks, and much to plan for the coming picnic.

The Saturday named dawned clear and frosty, promising in the form of many hickory nuts and chestnuts, an extra treat for the party gathering so merrily at Hart’s home. Not that they literally gathered at dawn, but it was not long after eight o’clock when the first horseman was seen coming along the road to the meeting-place. There were to be fourteen in the party, besides the older people who went along to guard against accidents, but who, as it later proved, did not succeed in so doing after all.

[Pg 230]

Mrs. Murray and Mrs. Lombard drove in the former’s carriage, and carried a good portion of the refreshments, but each boy and girl rode their own beastie, whether it was a pony or a horse, for Springdale’s young folk were pretty well supplied with mounts of one sort or another, and could, when occasion called for it, turn out quite a brave array of equestrians. There were horses and ponies of all sorts and kinds gathered in Mrs. Murray’s driveway that beautiful October morning, and they possessed as varied dispositions as the boys and girls mounted upon them. Ned and Pinto were, of course, special cronies, and rubbed noses, and whispered secrets as only old cronies can. They tolerated the other horses, but did not encourage familiarities, and when one overgrown specimen of horsedom, noted especially for his pronounced Roman nose, and monstrous feet, undertook to force his way between them while they were comparing notes about the flavor of their morning oats, they promptly united forces and administered justice, [Pg 231]thereby creating a wholesome respect for small horses in that misguided animal’s brains, and a lively diversion for their respective owners, who rushed to settle the disagreement.

Denise.

“THEY HAD MANY THINGS TO TALK OVER.”

But all was ready in the course of half an hour, and away they went, as merry a party as ever set forth for Summit Ridge, a plateau upon the summit of South Mountain, where many years before a gentleman had erected a beautiful home and planted extensive orchards. It was an ideal spot for such an orchard, and the trees had flourished marvelously, bearing pears, plums, and apples, such as were not to be found for miles around. The gentleman had lived there until the death of his wife several years before, and then left the place abruptly, never to return. Its remoteness from all other dwellings, and the difficulty of reaching it, kept most people from visiting the place, and it was only at long intervals that the residents of Springdale plucked heart of grace and clambered up the rough, neglected mountain-road which led to it.

[Pg 232]

During October the winter pippins and several other varieties of winter apples proved a strong inducement to the young people, and hardly an autumn passed without a party being made up to form a raid upon Mr. Powell’s orchard, and carry off apples enough to keep them supplied for months.

Up the mountain scrambled the riders, the horses harnessed to the carriage scrambling along behind, and doing their best not to get left altogether. Denise, Hart, and one of their young friends, who had recently become the possessor of a little mustang, sent her by her uncle, who had a ranch in the West, and who assured her that Comanche was all that she could wish for, were leading the party, scrambling up the steep places, racing along the level ones, and picking their way down the descents. Flossy Bennett was a bright, pretty girl, but one wonderfully fond of her own way, and, once having taken it into her head to do a certain thing, it was no easy matter to persuade her to do differently.

[Pg 233]

Two hours’ hard scrambling and picking their way at last brought them to the old house high up upon the mountain, and all dismounted to unsaddle their mounts, and tether them to the rustic fence which ran all about the neglected grounds, separating them from the orchards beyond. Then came the preparation of their luncheon, and rigging up a tripod to swing the kettle. After the merry feast ended, all repaired to the orchard to fill every sort and size of bag with the bright and luscious apples, which were almost breaking the branches with their weight.

But October days are short ones, and, when three o’clock came, the preparations for the homeward journey were begun. Most of the boys and girls put their bags in the carriage, although some of them tied them in the middle and placed them across their saddle-bows. This plan worked well enough where the horses, or ponies, were accustomed to such liberties, but in some cases it was an entirely new experience, [Pg 234]and the mountain-road was not a wise place upon which to make experiments.

Flossy Bennett’s little mustang, although apparently as gentle as a kitten, seemed strongly disinclined to have her bag of apples strapped upon his withers, as his mistress wished to have it strapped, and fussed and fidgeted when one of the boys undertook to fasten it there. There was no one with the girl who was in a position to say either yea or nay, for she had joined the party just as many of the others had joined it, with the understanding that Mrs. Murray was, for the time being, both hostess and chaperon.

Seeing how restless the pony seemed, Mrs. Murray came over to where the children were, and suggested that Flossy put her bag of apples in the carriage with the others, but Flossy did not care to act upon the suggestion, and Mrs. Murray, who did not possess Mrs. Lombard’s quiet dignity, and the power to control with a firm, though a gentle word, had rather an animated discussion with the young lady.

[Pg 235]

“You must not try to carry those apples in that way, Flossy. It is dangerous, and I cannot allow it,” she said rather warmly, when suggestions failed to dissuade Flossy from having her own way.

“He has just got to carry them that way, Mrs. Murray. It is all nonsense. The other ponies are carrying the bags, so why shouldn’t he? Uncle Frank said that he was thoroughly broken, and if he is, he will do what I wish him to do.”

“But this is neither the time nor the place to make him, and I insist upon your putting that bag into my carriage at once. I am astonished that you presume to argue the point with some one older than yourself. Give me that bag at once. You are keeping the entire party waiting. Do you hear me?”

Now Flossy’s disposition was one which had never encountered, and never could brook, downright opposition. Her mother had died when she was a tiny child, and her father had [Pg 236]either indulged or neglected her, as the occasion prompted. Having been left to the care of the maids, and a long-suffering, rather weak governess, it was no wonder that at the age of fourteen Flossy Bennett had pretty strong ideas of her own, and carried them out whenever she could.

“Excuse me, Mrs. Murray, but I think it is, and I shall carry the bag right here. Comanche may as well submit at once, and, as you see, he is behaving properly now;” and, with a defiant toss of her golden head, Miss Flossy braced herself in her side-saddle with an air of, “How do you intend to stop me if I choose to do it?”

Meantime, the other members of the party were gathered about listening to the controversy with varying emotions. Mrs. Lombard had seen and heard it all, but had not, of course, taken any part in it. Now Mrs. Murray turned to her and said impatiently:

“Emilie, will you come here and see if you [Pg 237]can dissuade this headstrong child from taking her life in her hands, as she seems determined to do? I am out of all patience to think that she will insist upon having her own way about such a trifle when it is so liable to prove disastrous to her. I am surprised at you, Flossy.”

Now if there was one person upon earth for whom Flossy entertained a warm regard, and whose good opinion she valued, it was Mrs. Lombard’s. Had fate ordained that she should have been placed under such a wise training as that lady would have exercised over her, a very different girl would have sat upon Comanche’s back than the one who sat there at that moment, and whose face was the very picture of perversity and defiance. Deep down in the girl’s heart was a strong desire to do as she felt sure Mrs. Lombard, as well as Mrs. Murray, wished to have her, and had the first word been spoken by the former, there would never have been a sign of discord. Now, however, the first [Pg 238]misstep had been taken, and she felt that she would lose prestige if she drew back.

Mrs. Lombard walked over to where the disputants were standing, and, laying her hand gently upon Flossy’s, which grasped her reins, said, in her sweet, gentle voice:

“Will you not oblige Mrs. Murray by yielding this point to her wishes? I should be much gratified if you would do so, as it will spare us all much uneasiness.”

“I should be sorry to cause any one uneasiness, Mrs. Lombard, and would hate to make you anxious, but there really isn’t the least danger. Uncle Frank said that I could do anything with Comanche, and all he needed was firmness. I shall ride slowly, and you know that I have ridden all my life.”

Mrs. Lombard did not say another word, but looked steadily into the girl’s eyes for just one moment, with a look which she remembered for a long time after, and never ceased to wish she had heeded. Then, returning to Mrs. Murray’s [Pg 239]carriage, she took her seat in it, saying to that lady:

“I think that we would better start without more delay. It is growing late.”

[Pg 240]

## CHAPTER XIX
DENISE TO THE RESCUE

Down the rough mountain-road wound the party, Hart, as usual, well in the lead, for Pinto hated to travel behind the others, but this time Denise kept close by the carriage, and, for some reason best understood by herself, Flossy chose to remain beside her.

The greater part of the journey had been accomplished without mishap, and, even though he had from time to time demonstrated his dislike of the bumping bag of apples by tossing his head from side to side, Comanche had behaved far better than the older members of the party had expected he would, and they were beginning to breathe freer. But, alas! it is [Pg 241]never safe to feel too sanguine, for the “slip” comes when we least look for it.

“Who’s for a race?” cried one of the boys, when the last plateau was reached, and a long stretch of smooth, inviting wood-road stretched out before them. They were barely two miles from home, and the horses knew that stables and oats were not far away.

“We are! we are!” was quickly shouted from all sides, and, before a word of remonstrance could be spoken by the occupants of the carriage, away dashed the riders, hot upon the track of the leader. As the other ponies and horses sprang forward, Comanche gave a plunge which caused the bag of apples upon his withers to shift dangerously to one side, and nearly fall to the ground. Flossy quickly changed her reins to one hand and with her free one made a wild grasp to steady the bag, just as Mrs. Lombard cried in a tone very unlike that generally used by her:

“Flossy, stop! That bag must be put into the surrey!”

[Pg 242]

Too late. Comanche was off like the wind, the bag pounding and banging upon his sides, and his young rider tugging with all her might to hold him in. The other boys and girls were not aware of the serious situation just behind them, and the cry of alarm which rose from the carriage as the pony sped forward was entirely drowned in the shouts of laughter and the challenges called from one to another of the racers.

Denise gave one terrified look at her mother, and then there settled upon her face the look which showed her Lombard determination once she recognized the necessity for prompt and decisive action.

Comanche was larger by at least two hands than Ned, but nothing like so sure-footed, for Ned had come straight from the mountains of Wales, where for generations his ancestors had scrambled over the wild mountain-passes and kept their footing like goats. Comanche had spent his entire life upon the grassy plains, and until within the past three months had never [Pg 243]seen a mountain, much less scrambled over one.

What Denise meant to do she could not have told, but she felt that she must keep beside that fleeing pony as long as Ned Toodles could run. For a pony of his size, Ned was wonderfully fleet of foot, and their perfect mutual understanding made many things possible for them which would have been quite impossible for an animal and rider less in sympathy.

“Go!” said Denise in a low, tense voice, and “go” Ned did, bounding along the mountain-road like a roebuck, and keeping neck and neck with the wild little gray, which seemed to have lost his senses altogether.

As they drew near the end of the level road the other riders began to check their horses, and prepare for the last short but very steep descent, leading into the town. But, even though Flossy tugged with the strength of desperation upon his reins, she failed to lessen [Pg 244]the speed with which he was nearing that dangerous hit of road. Had she held the curb rein her chances would have been greater, but she had let it fall when she steadied her apples, and had not been able to regain it. Ned instinctively slackened his pace as he drew near the down grade, but Flossy’s pony was less wise, and tore ahead.

“Oh, Ned, Ned!” cried Denise, as she bent over the shaggy neck, and poured her fears into the ears which seemed to have almost human understanding, “he will kill her! he will kill her! Please, please, let me catch him!” and as though he realized the peril, Ned gathered himself together for a mighty effort. By this time the others had awakened to the situation, and some were urging their horses forward, some were stopping stock-still in dismay, and others calling orders which fell upon unheeding ears, while those in the carriage were hastening after the runaway as rapidly as a well-laden carriage could travel over such a [Pg 245]road. Mrs. Murray was shrieking aloud, but Mrs. Lombard, white to the very lips, sat rigid and with hands clasped as though asking the only aid which could help her in such a crisis. She had not called to Denise, for she understood all too well the resolute spirit which was urging the girl forward, and could not censure her for the very act which she herself would have been the first to perform.

The brink was reached, and down it tore Comanche, with Ned sweeping behind him, bent upon bringing that lunatic horse to his senses if one well-conducted beast could compass it. Once upon the down grade the plains-bred pony began to flounder and swerve from one side of the road to the other, and that gave Ned his chance. Clatter, clatter! Click, click! went the flying hoofs, and with Ned’s next bound Denise reached forward and caught the dangling curb rein. How that bag of apples had remained upon the saddle until that moment was a mystery to all who saw its wild [Pg 246]bumps and bounds, and had it only fallen off sooner it would have been far better for all concerned. But stick it did until Denise caught the rein, and then, with a jerk given to Comanche, down it fell, straight beneath his feet, to nearly throw him down, and cause the saddle to shift dangerously to his left side. Wild before, he was simply frantic now, and began to plunge and rear, Denise guiding Ned with one hand and jerking upon Comanche’s curb for dear life with the other. Ned never swerved, but seemed to understand that he had a duty to perform, and did it nobly. But neither Ned nor his mistress were equal to the terrified mustang, and, with one wild plunge, up he reared, swerved sidewise, sending his rider out of her saddle, and jerking the reins from Denise’s hand, to go tearing down the mountain at a rate which threatened instant destruction.

At his last plunge a piercing cry came from Flossy’s lips, and she lay helpless in the ditch [Pg 247]at the roadside, for Comanche’s flying hoofs had struck one final and crushing blow as he rushed off, shattering the arm which had been vainly striving to control him.

Ned’s impetus made it impossible for him to come to a sudden standstill, and before Denise could stop entirely she had gotten nearly twenty yards beyond Flossy. Meanwhile, the rest of the party had hurried to her, and were doing all within their power for the suffering girl. But the moment had come when the mother in Mrs. Lombard cried out for her own, and as Denise came rushing back, a pair of outstretched arms awaited her and a tense voice cried: “My darling! Thank God you are unharmed, my brave little daughter!” as Denise dropped her reins and almost fell into the beloved arms awaiting her, for the tension was removed and she began to realize the situation as she had not been able to realize it earlier. “Oh, mamma, mamma! Is she killed?”

Flossy was not killed, but was suffering [Pg 248]keenly, and it would be many days before she recovered from that wilful ride. Willing hands helped to remove the baskets from the carriage, and make it ready for her, and a very subdued party of boys and girls made their way down the mountain. Comanche had rushed home as fast as he could go, and, when he arrived there, his saddle, or what was left of it, was dangling beneath his stomach. Mrs. Murray was too unnerved to do anything but go straight to her home, but Mrs. Lombard remained in the carriage to take Flossy to hers. Some of the party had already gone on ahead to secure a physician, and by the time he arrived at Mr. Bennett’s home poor Flossy had been placed in bed, and all was in readiness for the trying ordeal of setting the fractured arm. Feeling that Denise had experienced enough of a strain already, Mrs. Lombard had left her at their own home, where grandma came promptly forward with soothing words, and comforting ministrations, while John gave Ned the best rub-down and [Pg 249]feed a small horse could wish for, to say nothing of praise enough to have turned his head had it not been a very “level” one indeed.

Two hours later Flossy was lying weak and wretched upon her bed, and Mrs. Lombard was giving directions to the distraught governess before taking her departure for home and the rest of which she was sorely in need herself, for she had stayed to give all possible assistance, and, with two inexperienced maids, and a governess but little better qualified to meet an emergency, she had found her hands full. The girl had borne her suffering bravely, but had scarcely spoken a word to any one. After a few final words, Mrs. Lombard, with the governess following closely upon her heels, came to say good-by, and, taking Flossy’s hand, bent over to kiss her.

“Send her out of the room. I want to speak to you,” were the words which came faintly from the girl’s white lips.

“Oh, I must not leave you! I will do anything [Pg 250]you wish!” was the none too wise answer made by the governess.

“Please go and leave us together for a few moments,” said Mrs. Lombard, quick to understand that she could be helpful in a way which the governess never suspected, but ought to have fully understood if she would fill such a position as the one she held.

“What can I do for you, dear?” she said very gently, as she sat upon the bedside, and smoothed back the tousled golden hair with a touch which was wonderfully soothing and quieting.

Flossy reached up and rested her own hand upon the one upon her forehead, and looked into Mrs. Lombard’s eyes with the hungry, yearning look sometimes seen in a young girl’s eyes when the strongest of all ties—mother love—is wanting. Mrs. Lombard smiled encouragingly at her and waited.

“Denise might have been killed,” Flossy whispered.

[Pg 251]

“Let us thank the dear Father that you both escaped,” replied Mrs. Lombard gently.

“But how can you forgive me?” continued the whisper.

“Because you have no mother to help you exercise the one thing we all need to exercise at times—self-control. We have both had a trying experience to-day, and one we shall not soon forget. Let us strive to profit by it, dear. I know how hard it must be for you at times, but you can conquer the desire to carry your point if you will only believe it.”

“I can’t; I just can’t, and I never shall because I am rubbed the wrong way all the time. I hate it, and almost wish Comanche had killed me and ended it all outright.”

Mrs. Lombard laid her finger ever so gently upon the lips which were forming the bitter words, and said:

“Don’t try to talk any more to-night. You are sorely unnerved. To-morrow you will feel differently, and then we will have what Denise [Pg 252]calls one of our ‘comforting talks,’ and the world will look less dismal, I know.”

“If I could have some one to talk to as she does I wouldn’t be so hateful. Somehow, I seem to need setting straight about a dozen times a day, and there is no one to set me.”

“Will you let me try?” asked Mrs. Lombard very tenderly.

“If you only would, oh! if you only would,” wailed such a despairing voice that Mrs. Lombard’s heart ached to hear such a tone from one only a little older than her own sunny daughter, whose life was so well ordered from one day’s end to the next that very little “setting straight” was ever needed.

“Then I shall have to call you my adopted daughter, and shall expect you to come to me with all the little vexations which come to young people at times, and which older people were made to smooth out. Do you think that you can do this, dear, and let me feel that I am helping another girl just as I would wish to [Pg 253]have Denise helped if I had slipped from her life when she was a little child? Try, Sweetheart, and meantime we will see how we can make less trying the weeks which must bring some suffering and some weary hours to you. I will come to see you in the morning, and Denise will come also, if you would like to have her. I hope your night may not be a very trying one, but know that you will do your best to bear the pain bravely. Good-night, adopted daughter mine,” and, with a final motherly caress, Mrs. Lombard took her departure, leaving behind her the beginning of a far happier condition of things in that misdirected home, and the developing of a character which only needed the union of wisdom and affection to make it a very lovely thing indeed.

[Pg 254]

## CHAPTER XX
A COASTING EPISODE

Winter had come in earnest. November was drawing to a close, and leaving behind convincing evidence that it had claimed the right to be classed as a winter, rather than as a fall, month, for snow lay thick upon the ground, and coasting and sleighing made life gay for the young people of Springdale. Directly lessons were ended for the day, a merry party of girls and boys gathered upon the hill leading down from the chapel, and thick and fast sped the sleds down the steep descent. Given to original performances, it was no wonder that even coasting held a novel feature as indulged in by Denise, or that Ned Toodles had to share the fun in some way. [Pg 255]Outsiders might have been of the opinion that there was but little fun in his share of it, but to judge from the manner in which he took part in it, there was far more than they suspected. Accustomed to following Denise as a dog would have followed her, he had trotted along one day when she started off with her sled for a spin, and had watched her with those wise eyes of his as she settled herself upon the sled and went whizzing down the hill. Then, with one grand, hilarious kick-up, off he pelted after her, and reached the bottom of the hill very nearly as soon as the sled reached it. That he felt immensely proud of his achievement was evinced by the sort of hurrah he cut up as she got up from the sled and started up the hill for another coast, for he pranced and curveted and was as gay and giddy as possible. Then, apparently grasping the situation, he trotted along beside Denise until he reached the top, and the whole performance was repeated. There were several other children coasting at the time, and Hart among them.

[Pg 256]

“Oh, say! What’s the matter with making him draw you up if he is so anxious to be in the fun?” he shouted, and thus it came about. The little Dutch collar and an old bridle were promptly brought from the Birds’ Nest, and, in far less time than it has taken to tell you about it, a whiffletree was rigged up, and fastened to the front of the sled and Ned harnessed to it. Then away he went up the hill dragging his little mistress to the top as easily as winking, and sometimes another sled “cutting” behind hers. After one or two trips he understood exactly what was expected of him, and the moment Denise’s sled started down the hill he was off after it like a shot. Reins and traces were carefully fastened so that he could not trip over them, and he usually managed to bring up at the foot of the hill very nearly as soon as Denise. That he was often borrowed by some of the other children need hardly be added.

The coasting was at its very best when one morning on his way to school Hart stopped to [Pg 257]give the signal whistle, which promptly brought Denise upon the piazza.

“Are you coming out on the hill this afternoon?” he asked.

“You would better believe I am! This is the finest day we have had yet. I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Denise replied.

“Well, you’ll see a show if you do. Charlie and Archie are coming out on the two o’clock train, and they are going to bring Lionel Algenon Montgomery with them, ha! ha! I say, that fellow is a piece of work, and if we don’t have a regular circus before this day is over then my name isn’t Hart Murray. Of all the Miss Nancys you ever saw he is just the greatest, and I dare say he will pad himself all up with cotton wool before he risks his precious bones upon anything so dangerous as a sled. Just wait until you see him, that’s all,” and Hart laughed as though the very thought of Lionel Algenon was enough to stir up any right-minded boy.

[Pg 258]

“Who is he, any way?” asked Denise, her eyes already twinkling.

“The greatest chump you ever heard tell of. He lives next door to Archie and Charlie, and is his mamma’s precious only son. How she ever made up her mind to let him come out here with my cousins I’m sure I don’t know, for he never stirs ten steps without either her or his tutor. Maybe she thinks that he is coming among such models that no harm can come to him. We’ll see,” and, with a farewell wave of his school-bag, Hart went tearing across the lawn.

When two o’clock came, Hart and his guests came with it. All extra sleds to be obtained by either borrowing or begging had been pressed into service, and yet the supply was one short, but turn about was fair play, and so no great harm threatened.

“Hullo, Denise!” called out the boys, for they had often visited Hart before, and looked upon her as one of themselves. “This is our friend, [Pg 259]Lionel Montgomery. Denise Lombard, Lionel,” was the boyish, off-hand introduction.

Now Lionel Algenon Montgomery had been taught that it was highly reprehensible to address a strange young lady by her Christian name, even though she were but twelve years of age and he fourteen, so, making his very best dancing-school bow, he lisped politely:

“Charmed to meet you, Miss Lombard,” and then stood waiting for that young lady to take up the conversation. But Denise was far from being the society young lady he imagined, and nearly laughed in his face as she said:

“I am afraid that I shall have to wait a few years before I can be called Miss Lombard, and meantime I’ll be just Denise, if you don’t mind. I guess we can have lots more fun coasting and snowballing if we don’t have to think that we may bang off Mr. Murray’s cap, or upset Miss Lombard in the snow.”

“Oh, I shall be charmed if you will allow me,” was the stilted, unnatural reply.

[Pg 260]

“I am afraid I shouldn’t know who you were talking to if you didn’t,” was the laughing answer. “But let’s begin our coasting before this lovely day is all gone,” and off she started for the “Birds’ Nest,” the boys tearing after her. At least, three of them “tore;” the fourth one paced along behind them as though he were promenading down Fifth Avenue. Presently Ned was brought from his stall, the bridle and collar put upon him, and off they started.

Now, Chapel hill had one peculiarity, and that peculiarity needed to be studied. In the first place, it was a steep hill, and at the foot of it ran a road at right angles to the descent. During the summer the hill was covered with a luxuriant growth of clover, from which Mr. Lombard harvested a fine supply of hay for his horses. Where the fields bordered the road, a steep terrace, fully five feet high, made it impossible for a hay-wagon to enter it, but, to overcome that obstacle, the men had dug the terrace [Pg 261]away in one place and made a gradual incline about ten feet wide, through which they could drive in and out without taking a flying leap into the roadway with their load. It was through this incline that the coasters guided their sleds, whizzing through it and out upon the smooth road, to make a sharp turn and go bounding on to the very edge of Mr. Lombard’s grounds, where they had thrown up a great pile of snow for a bumper.

“Clear the track!” shouted Hart, flinging himself upon his sled, to go spinning down the hill, through the hay-wagon’s entranceway, and on pell-mell to the bottom, the other boys hard after him, leaving Lionel to do the gallant for Denise if she felt disposed to accept it.

“Here, take my sled and have a spin,” she said. “The boys will be back in a minute, and I can have one of theirs.”

“Oh, no! I couldn’t think of depriving you. Besides, I don’t know that I shall coast. It seems so dangerous.”

[Pg 262]

“Mercy, me! No, it isn’t. You couldn’t get hurt if you wanted to. All you have got to do is steer straight down where we have gone, and you will come out all right. Go on! It’s great fun, and Ned will pull you up,” and she held her sled-rope toward him.

“I will watch you go first. I am not accustomed to very violent exercise. Mamma does not approve of it.”

“I guess she wouldn’t call coasting such violent exercise,” said Denise, as she settled herself upon the sled, gave the necessary hitch forward, and spun off over the icy hill, whistling for Ned to follow.

By this time the boys were coming up, and became conscious of their own shortcomings.

“Say, fellows, we need to be thumped,” cried Charlie, in contrition. “Look at Lionel standing up there. He hasn’t got so much as a shingle to coast down on.”

“Bet five cents he won’t coast anyway. If he did he would want to roll himself up in a [Pg 263]bearskin to keep warm,” was Archie’s comment.

“I’m the one who ought to be thrashed. Wonder what sort of a host mother would say I am. Say, Lionel, we’ll be up in a minute, and then you can have a go! Awful sorry I didn’t think of my manners sooner. There you are,” and Hart brought his sled up with a flourish.

“Thanks, awfully, but I don’t think that I care to go down. I’ll just watch you fellows. It’s pretty steep, don’t you know.”

“Why, it’s the finest you ever saw! Not a bit steep. Just try it, and see if it isn’t just O. K. Take any sled you like, but mine’s a hummer.”

“It is a very low one, don’t you think so?” asked Lionel, eying askance the rakish little sled built for speed and endurance, as a boy’s sled has need to be.

“Why you can’t do a thing with them if they are high!” was the rather derisive comment.

[Pg 264]

“Denise seems to manage hers very well,” replied Lionel, as Denise came up, Ned supplying the motive power.

“Oh, she coasts girl fashion, of course. No fun in that! Got to go a whopper if you want to have fun,” cried Archie.

“Seems to me I would prefer sitting up straight. Really, I should not like to have my head get there first,” was the remark which caused Charlie to cry:

“You want to ‘get in with both feet,’ do you?”

“Well, it would not hurt so much if one met with an accident, don’t you know,” was the reply, given in all seriousness.

“Will you go down on my sled?” asked Denise.

“Why, I hate to deprive you of it, but, really,—well, I think that, perhaps, I could manage that one better than the others, if you will let me take it.”

“Of course you may take it, and Ned will be [Pg 265]at the bottom of the hill nearly as quick as you are,” cried Denise.

“Really? Will he follow me as he follows you? What a remarkable pony,” said Lionel, reaching toward Ned to stroke him, whereat Ned gave a comical bounce and evaded him.

“Well, let’s do something beside standing here and freezing,” added Ned’s mistress, for she was accustomed to going up and down in hot pursuit of the other sleds, and found this polite parleying rather cold work.

With many adjustings and false starts, questions as to whether it would not be wiser to keep to one side of the well-beaten slide, lest he lose control of the sled where the descent was so glassy, and if he should put down his left or his right heel if he wished to go to the right, Lionel Algenon, at last, got started amidst a hurrah of shouts at the send-off. It may have been the hurrah, and it may have been the sight of the long stretch of gleaming snow which spread before him like ground glass, or it may [Pg 266]have been wicked Ned Toodles careering along just behind him, that caused him to become disconcerted long before the bottom of the hill was reached. Whatever it was, the climax came very speedily.

“Keep in the track! Oh, keep in the track!” shouted those following close behind him. “You’ll jump the terrace if you steer way over to that side. Go through the opening where we went! You’ll smash the sled to bits if you go over the bank!”

But their warnings fell upon deaf ears. Lionel felt that sled spinning along beneath him at a rate which struck terror to his very soul, and turned instinctively into the softer snow at the side of the beaten path. But that snow was treacherous, for it was merely a light coating of new-fallen snow upon a hard crust underneath, and his speed was hardly a particle lessened. On sped the sled with a perfect shower of fine, dry snow plowing up in front of it, and nearly blinding the bewildered boy. [Pg 267]Through the opening whizzed the other two boys, landing in the road safe and right side up just in time to see Denise’s sled, with Lionel clinging to it with both hands, come bounding over the terrace with one wild, flying leap, and land in front of them. Whatever saved them from piling on top of it was a miracle. Then came the end, and when they finally got their sleds stopped, and made their way back to the spot, there sat Lionel, still clinging to the side bars, the sled beneath him, which was flattened out as though it had been put beneath a letterpress.

“I really think that I prefer not coasting any more,” he remarked, as they assisted him to his feet.

“Well, until Denise gets another sled I don’t believe you will. What the dickens made you do such a fool thing as try to jump that terrace, anyway?” demanded Archie, with some spirit, for he was growing just a trifle tired of “taking care of a sissy,” as he dubbed Lionel, and his [Pg 268]own day was being spoiled by this boy’s affectations.

“I did not see the terrace, and the other path was very slippery.”

“You don’t expect to coast on sandpaper, do you?” demanded Charlie.

“Well, I think it would be nicer to coast on level ground. Then there would be no real danger.”

“Oh, go get an automobile,” was the natural, boyish retort.

“Yes, really, I think that I shall ask mamma to get me one. One can keep so comfortable, don’t you know.”

[Pg 269]

## CHAPTER XXI
ANOTHER CHRISTMAS DAY DRAWS NEAR

Once November passes, Christmas seems very near at hand, and, before we know it, the day dearest to all young people, with its plans, its secrets, and its surprises, is with us. But before that day arrived, a great sorrow came to Denise, and she felt that not even Christmas joys could entirely dispel her sadness.

Since early winter Tan had been ailing, and as the weather grew colder and colder, the rheumatism which had caused him so much suffering the previous winter, and which the veterinary had said he feared he could not survive if it attacked him again, made life almost a burden for the dear old pet, and sometimes, [Pg 270]when she saw how wretched he was, Denise almost wished that his suffering might be ended forever. But then came the thought of never seeing him again, and his long years of devotion to her; for eight years seem a very great number when one is young. And it really was a great number in Denise’s life; it was two-thirds of all she, herself, had lived.

Tan still had his warm stall in the Birds’ Nest, and John cared for him very tenderly, but it was Denise alone who could soothe him and comfort him when the poor bones ached past endurance. Seated upon some fresh straw in his stall, she would hold the poor weary old head in her lap, rubbing and “pooring” it, and rambling on in the crooning voice she had always used when holding her little love-talks with her pets, and which they all understood and responded to, each in his own particular manner.

December opened with a wild, driving snow, the sort that soon buries everything from sight, [Pg 271]and creeps into every crevice. A high wind sent the snow scurrying before it, and the cold penetrated the very marrow of one’s bones.

“I think I’ll stop in the Birds’ Nest the night, sir. The poor old goat can’t hold out through it, I’m afraid, and it sort of goes agin the grain of me fer me to lave him to give up the fight all by himself afther the years I’ve tuck care of him,” said John to Mr. Lombard, when he brought him home from the station that night.

“Is it really so? Poor old Tan! If he is only a goat, he has certainly been a faithful creature, and I’ve known many a human being give less proof of affection and appreciation of kindness than he has given,” replied Mr. Lombard.

“’Tis right ye are, sir, and the way he do be looking for Miss Denise and a listenin’ for her voice would clean break the heart of ye. Faith, he can hear her no matter where she is, I belave, and give his queer blaat av an answer. And the eyes av him whin she comes into the Nest are just fair human.”

[Pg 272]

“I’ll go right out to the Nest with you,” replied Mr. Lombard, and John drove on through the grounds.

A dim light was burning, shedding its rays upon the occupants of the tiny stalls, and the kittens curled up in their box in the corner of the stable. In the larger stall, well blanketed in his gay plaid blanket, stood Ned Toodles, peeping through the little slot in the door. The other stall did not have a door, and in it, lying upon a thick bed of fresh, clean straw, and swathed almost from head to foot in flannel bandages, lay Tan, no longer able to get upon his feet. As Mr. Lombard stooped down to stroke him he gave his usual friendly blaat, although not in the same vigorous tone.

“Poor old pet,” said Mr. Lombard, “is the story of your devoted life almost told? Your little mistress will grieve long and sorely for you, I fear. No, he cannot last much longer, John, and, perhaps, we should be thankful, for he suffers cruelly. I’ll leave [Pg 273]him to your care, for he could not be in better hands.”

“Sure, he is Miss Denise’s, and that’s all that anny wan nade know,” answered John.

Dawn was just breaking when John came up to the house to ask for Miss Denise. The good fellow had spent the entire night ministering to the pet he had cared for for eight years, and, as the night waned, the tender-hearted fellow felt that he could not see him suffer as he was without at least trying to do something more for his comfort. Nothing had soothed him as Denise’s stroking, and John felt that since it could only be for a few hours at most he would call the little mistress.

It was not yet seven o’clock, but Denise and her father hurried into their clothing and hastened to the Nest.

“Poor, dear old Tanny-boy,” called Denise, as she went toward the stall, and a weak, quavering blaat answered her as Tan strove to raise his head. But the head had been raised for the [Pg 274]last time. Without a word, but with brimming eyes, Denise sat down upon the straw and lifted the weary head into her lap, crooning over it in the old, familiar way. For hours during that long night John had striven in vain to quiet Tan’s piteous moans by bathing him with hot lotions, but all to no purpose. But who shall say that love may not compass what skill cannot? No sooner did Tan feel that beloved little mistress’s gentle strokes than the moans ceased, and the sigh almost of a tired child testified that so far as human comfort could minister to him and bring relief, he had found it. The snow had ceased falling in the night, and when the sun arose it shone upon a gleaming white world—a world which seemed too beautiful to hold any sorrow. Breakfast-hour came and passed, but Denise did not give it a thought, and neither Mr. nor Mrs. Lombard would disturb her. Mr. Lombard deferred his departure for town, and waited for Denise to end her watch, which he felt sure must end very soon. [Pg 275]It was not long past nine o’clock when Tan gave a sudden start, looked up into Denise’s face with the look of loving devotion she had known so long, gave one of the old familiar blaats, and dropped his head upon her lap again, to give one long, weary sigh, and close the great topaz eyes forever.

“I just can’t believe it is so,” said Denise an hour later, when her sobs were subsiding and she was nestling in the arms which never failed her in any sorrow. “I have had him so long that it seems as though I couldn’t get on without seeing him every day. What will be done with him, mamma?”

“Will you leave that entirely to papa and me, darling?” asked Mrs. Lombard, as she stroked back the rumpled locks from the hot forehead.

“Yes; I don’t want to even see him again, for unless I could see him standing as he used to be, and his great eyes looking right at me, I just couldn’t stand it, mamma.”

“Well, try not to think about it any more [Pg 276]just now, dear, but have Ned put to the cutter and take me for a drive to the village. I wish to do some errands, and the roads are pretty well broken now. It will do us both good,” and so it happened that all that was left of Tan had passed from sight before Denise and her mother came home, both the happier for the drive in the crisp, keen air.

Denise’s holiday began the week before Christmas, for Miss Meredith lived a long way from Springdale, and three days were required to make her journey home. Then came trips to the city, and one of them resulted in a funny enough addition to the family of pets, for, while passing through one of the streets in the lower part of the city with her father and mother, a forlorn, wretched dog, a tin saucepan tied to its tail, frightened nearly to death, and hotly pursued by a mob of howling, yelling boys, came tearing toward them. Denise was walking a few steps in advance of her father and mother, and, before she could gather herself together to [Pg 277]resist the onslaught, the dog, as though he had instinctively recognized in her a protector of his kind and all helpless creatures, had sprung straight at her, knocking her flat upon the sidewalk. With never a thought for self, she instantly clasped her arms around the dirty, miserable beast, and clung to him for dear life and justice. Her father and mother had sprung toward her, as had one or two passers-by, each one feeling sure that they would find the dog’s teeth firmly buried in some part of her.

But that dog had been wise in his choice of a protector, and was also wise enough not to abuse his good fortune.

Now the sight of a handsomely dressed twelve-year-old girl sitting in the middle of the sidewalk and holding in her arms a dirty, forlorn dog with a tin pan securely fastened to the end of his tail, and trembling with fright, is certainly not a common one, and in just one brief little minute about one hundred people of all sorts and conditions, to say nothing of the boys [Pg 278]who had been in hot chase after the dog, and a big policeman, who felt that he had, at least, the right to make a few polite inquiries, were surrounding her.

“Denise, my darling!” was all Mrs. Lombard could exclaim, while Mr. Lombard endeavored to get the young lady and her dog upon their own legs. Close at hand was a large wholesale store, where fruits and vegetables of all sorts and kinds were piled in crates and barrels, and just behind some bouncing pumpkins loomed a fat, ruddy face, so like them that it might have been mistaken for one of them.

This animated pumpkin had been standing in the door of the store, and had witnessed the whole scene, and, just as Mr. Lombard got Denise right side up, and the big policeman was shooing off the crowd, he waddled out of his store and, beckoning with one fat, pudgy hand, said:—

“Yow prings dat yung lady und dat dog straightavay into mine store. She vas one fine [Pg 279]trump already. Dat dog, he find himself in one great big luck, if he himself know. You git soom mud? Chust so. I take it you all off, and you pretty soon don’t know you got some bimeby.” As he talked, he took hold of Denise’s arm and led her into the store, Mr. and Mrs. Lombard being only too glad to follow and get away from the all-too-curious crowd. Into the store they hurried, and it was not until Denise was put into some sort of shape, and made fit to appear in public once more that they all realized that they had become the owners, willy-nilly, of about as forlorn a specimen of a dog as any one could have thrust upon them. Then arose the question of what in this world to do with him, and it was a poser.

[Pg 280]

## CHAPTER XXII
CHRISTMAS FOR ALL THE PETS

“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!” was the cry which sounded from one end of the house to the other when Christmas morning dawned, bright and beautiful, as we always love to picture it, upon Denise’s home. Denise was wide awake long before there was any dawn at all, and scurrying about the house to get the others awake.

As usual, Pokey was upon the scene, for Christmas day would hardly have seemed Christmas day without her. Ever since they were tiny children she and Denise had passed it together. Christmas eve had been filled with its usual merrymaking and secrets, and the constant ringing of the door-bell and delivering [Pg 281]of packages by the belated expressmen had kept things wildly exciting. Among the last things delivered was a huge box, standing fully as high as Denise’s head, and so broad that it required the two men upon the wagon and John to carry it into the Birds’ Nest.

“What can it be? Where did it come from? Who do you suppose sent it?” were the questions which greeted it.

“St. Nick, of course,” said Mr. Lombard, laughing. “Who else sends mysterious boxes and bundles at this season of the year?”

“It says New York on the cover, if that is the cover,” said Pokey, as she walked around and around it, and touched it as though that might reveal the secret of what it contained.

“Did you have that Christmas fun out in the Birds’ Nest because you knew that this big box was coming, papa?” asked Denise, with a twinkle in her eyes.

“Who said that I knew it was coming, Miss Paulina Pry?”

[Pg 282]

“He didn’t take that bait worth a straw, did he?” asked Denise, laughing, as she turned to Pokey.

“Did you think that your old daddy was to be taken in so easily? I guess not,” and Mr. Lombard wagged a finger at her.

The entire family had gathered in the Birds’ Nest on Christmas eve, and had decked the little house from end to end with greens. In one corner stood the tree laden with all manner of shining trifles to catch and reflect the light, while beneath it lay the almost endless number of parcels which had come from all directions. During the dressing of the tree, Ned Toodles, the dogs, and the cats, had roamed about at will, and more than once, in the midst of the gayety, Denise had peeped through the door leading into the little stable to look with saddened eyes at Tan’s empty stall, for Tan would have been in the midst of the merrymaking. When all had been arranged for the grand distribution next day, the big box was placed in the very [Pg 283]middle of the little dining-room, thereby very nearly filling it up, and sending curiosity up to fever heat. So it was no wonder that Denise and Pokey were astir at an early hour, and leaving no stone unturned to get the other members of the family astir, too.

The Birds’ Nest was not to be visited until after breakfast, for the maids and John were to be present when the gifts were distributed, and that meant more bottled up patience.

But at last even domestic affairs came to an end, and the signal to start for the Nest was given, and pell-mell rushed the girls, with the older members of the family not very far behind.

A brighter, prettier, more novel Christmas setting it would have been hard to picture, for John had been early astir, and all about the little playhouse everything was in spandy order for the reception of its young mistress and her friends, while within, the tall Christmas tree, and bright-green decorations, with the gleaming red [Pg 284]berries of the holly, and pearly white ones of the mistletoe, proclaimed it Christmas day beyond all question. Nor was this all. There stood the pets, Ned, Sailor, Beauty Buttons, and “Charity Jack,” as the dog rescued in New York had been named. For Denise had begged so hard to have him sent to Springdale, “where,” she urged, “he could have such good care, and never again be in danger of being so misused, and where she, herself, could train him properly,” that consent had finally been given, and now, marvel of marvels that he knew himself at all, there he stood with the other respectable members of dog society. A “bra’ brass collar” was upon his neck, although, strictly speaking, it was not brass at all, but leather, with a nickel plate with “Charity Jack” and Denise’s name upon it, to say nothing of a small bell, for, even though filled to repletion with the best food that dog ever had, poor Charity Jack could never overcome his early habits, and would go straying off from a dinner such as he could never [Pg 285]have dreamed of, even when imminent starvation quickened his dreams, to forage in every can and barrel for miles around, and return home triumphant with a bone which made his friends flee from his presence, until he had carefully buried it for future emergencies.

The cats, too, were there, and each pet had a sprig of holly tied upon his collar or fastened on the gay ribbon about his neck. Whether they were fully alive to their honors was somewhat of a question, for now and again a holly prickle would prod them a trifle, and produce a demonstration of some sort or another, according to the animal which wore it.

But what did Denise’s startled eyes behold? Had dear old Tan come to life again? Surely that beautiful creature standing in the midst of the other pets, although grown strangely tall, and so gayly decked with holly, must be Tan. The head was held in the same attitude he had always held it when listening for Denise’s voice, the ears were pricked forward as he had always [Pg 286]turned them when listening for her footsteps, the splendid horns gleamed as they had always gleamed when John varnished them, and, most wonderful of all, the beautiful topaz eyes looked at her just as Tan had always looked. John had posed him well, and the taxidermist’s art had not omitted a single detail of those supplied by the fine photograph Mr. Lombard had shown him of Tan as the goat had looked in life; for the pets, with Tan among them, had been photographed again and again, in all possible, and sometimes almost impossible, attitudes.

At Denise’s entrance the pets had greeted her in their usual manner, Ned neighing, the dogs barking, and the cats mewing, but for once their greetings were almost ignored, as Denise, with a cry of—“Oh, Tanny-boy! Tanny-boy! have you really come back?” rushed toward the great creature standing there upon his wheeled platform in such a lifelike attitude that it was hard to realize that it was not the true Tan once [Pg 287]more among the mates of whom he was so fond.

Denise forgot all else as she clasped her arms about the figure beside her, and if anything could have assuaged her grief at Tan’s loss, this came nearest doing so. After many questions had been answered, and the other pets had come in for their share of petting from all present, for they had no notion of being slighted, the distribution of the gifts took place, and fun ran riot. Last of all came the gifts for the pets—a funny enough collection. Ned had a box of chocolate cream drops, his favorite delicacy, with which he would have promptly made himself ill had he been permitted to do so; Sailor a huge Bologna sausage tied up with a scarlet ribbon, and when it was handed to him, he took it and paraded thither and yonder with the sausage sticking out one side of his mouth and the red bow waving at the other. Beauty’s present was a monstrous chocolate rat, from which he bit and bolted the head [Pg 288]the very instant it was given to him, and was severely reproved for his greediness. Then, realizing the error of his ways, he followed Sailor about, the rat in his mouth, and the tail, the longest rat ever boasted, dragging upon the floor. Charity Jack made a wild grab for the huge bone offered him, and fled with it to some well-known hiding-place. Hero, the cat, had a dainty piece of fried liver neatly done up in paraffine paper, and created considerable diversion in her efforts to remove the paper, while Leander caused no little amusement by striving to remove the paper from his package of catnip, and at the same time roll upon it.

And so we will leave them, these happy, well-cared-for pets, only stopping long enough to take a peep at the birds up in Denise’s bedroom, which were enjoying their Christmas gifts of celery and hemp seeds, and the bunnies reveling in a feast of parsley and carrots.

Some day you will, perhaps, wish to learn more of their pranks, but now, since the story [Pg 289]ends at the blessed Christmas season, I must wish you all a Merry Christmas, and let you bid farewell to this second story of Denise and her pets.

[THE END]

## Transcriber’s note

On page 16 there is an illustration of music. Some versions of the epubs show attached audio files for this music which can be played by some ereaders. These music files are the music transcriber's interpretation of the printed notation and are placed in the public domain.

Minor punctuation errors have been changed without notice. Hyphenation has been standardized.

Page numbers in the list of Illustrations reflect the position of the illustration in the original text, but links to the current position of illustrations.

Spelling was retained as in the original except for the following changes:

| Page 19: “are simply inrepressible” |  | “are simply irrepressible”
| Page 29: “Denise was in depair” |  | “Denise was in despair”
| Page 142: “gure upon the couch” |  | “figure upon the couch”
| Page 174: “MIRANDA COMES FROM TOWN” |  | “MIRANDA COMES TO TOWN”

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