Peggy-Alone Part 13

"Mrs. Major wants my fish? Why, I never heard tell of the lady!"

"Yes, it's for Uncle Fred's supper! She's the housekeeper, you know, and the fish-cart didn't come round to-day! So I told Kizzie I'd come out and get some from the boys, you know!"

"Oh, I see! Well, it won't do to disappoint Uncle Fred, the housekeeper and Kizzie and you--especially you!" So saying, he tendered her the big string of fish.

As Alene reached for it, one of the fishes gave a sudden jump. She recoiled.

"Oh! Do put them in the basket, won't you? Their tails wriggle up so!"

He laughed, and while he busied himself to obey her, Alene opened her little silver purse. When the boy glanced up from his task she offered him a silver dollar.

"They're not for sale, thank you!" he said, turning away.

"Oh, then I can't take them!"

"Turn about's fair play!" he cried, quickening his steps; a beam of mischief shone in his eyes, lighting up his face.

"What do you mean? Come back and get your fish," cried Alene, swinging the basket as far as she could reach. She rushed up the street a short distance but, seeing the hopelessness of overtaking him, came to a halt while the dog stood barking beside her.

"Here, Prince, take the basket and follow him," cried Alene excitedly, but Prince failed to understand why he should rob his master of the supper they had procured for him. He took the basket in his mouth and waited for Alene to lead the way.

"Oh, Prince, you--you idiot! Boy, boy, say!" she screamed with such a sharp, insistent treble that it reached the lad's ears. He turned around and waved his hat.

"Highway robbery!" he cried, making a trumpet of both hands, and then with a parting wave he pa.s.sed from view, leaving the exasperated and almost tearful Alene to return to the house, with the disobedient Prince at her side proudly carrying the spoils.

CHAPTER XIII

A GIRLISH TIFF

GRAND PANORAMA!

MOVING PICTURES! THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS!

AT JARRETT'S HALL,

FRIDAY EVENING, JULY THE 16TH

_Admission .................. 25 cts._

_Reserved Seats ............. 50 cts._

Thus read the attractive handbills scattered throughout the town by half a dozen small boys, while a man went from street to street posting gorgeous pictures of the different scenes, until the whole population, especially the younger portion of it, was aroused into the desire or intention of attending the show.

The boys who by a happy chance were on hand when the advance agent stepped from the train, and had secured the privilege of distributing the bills with the accompanying reward of free admission to the hall, were the envied of their less favored friends.

Loud was the lamentation of Lafe Bonner, Ivy's eleven-year-old brother, whose only consolation was the memory of a happier time in the early spring when the circus had come to town with its elephants and caged animals, its clown in cap and bells, to say nothing of its fine ladies in red and green velvet habits all gold bespangled, riding so gracefully the high-stepping horses to the music of the band, perched high on a scarlet-and-gold mirrored chariot--not to forget the calliope bringing up the rear. Then, with glowing countenance and swift-beating heart, Lafe and his companions had followed the parade to "the bottoms," a level s.p.a.ce sacred to the circus and baseball, where men were busy erecting tents for the afternoon's show.

One l.u.s.ty fellow whose bronze cheeks were tanned by the wind and sun of many climes immediately engaged the three boys to carry water to the animals, in exchange for pa.s.ses to the evening performance, the memory of which would never, never fade from Lafe's mind, were he to live as long as Methuselah himself. Every detail, the sawdust-covered racetrack around the ring, the acrobats swinging and diving so far, far up in the air that one held his breath till they made a safe descent; the jokes of the clown never too old to evoke laughter, the noises of wild animals which might break through their barred cages and cause a panic among the people, a possibility that lent spice to the whole; the peanuts and lemonade,--weak in lemon but strong in sugar, and of a lovely shade of pink,--genuine circus lemonade, on which they had spent their last pennies, with all this comparatively fresh in his memory no wonder that Lafe gazed longingly on the posters, and read with avidity every item concerning the attraction, which, if not the circus, was related to it in a sort of third or fourth cousin degree.

Lafe could not gain entrance by the drawing-of-water method, nor yet, alas, by scattering bills; and he knew it was useless to apply at home.

Did not the pinching of shoes worn the first time the Sunday previous remind him of his mother's latest ill-spared expenditure? All he could do, therefore, was to grumble at his luck in having missed the agent.

This he did so persistently and in tones so loud that everybody either commiserated or scolded him, with the exception of Ivy, who only laughed and dubbed him Master Glumface. To her, who measured every woe with her own, his disappointment seemed a pitifully small thing to bewail.

"Now, I'm sure I'd love to see the Pilgrim's Progress--that picture where Christian is crossing through the Dark Valley just gives me thrills--and yet I don't go round like a big baby complaining. And I didn't even see the circus when it was here, only the side show!" she said.

Lafe gave her a withering glance. He felt inclined to catch hold of that provoking curl that bobbed so impertinently in his direction as she tossed her head, and give it a good hard pull.

But Laura, who had just come in, soothed his ire by saying in a sympathetic voice:

"Lafe seems so much taken with the circus and things I shouldn't wonder if he turns out to be an actor! Don't you remember how well he did at our exhibition?" Ivy nodded. "So of course, he feels it worse than we do. But I'd love to go too and take Nettie. She's wild about that picture where the angels are flying. She thinks they have real angels at the show. Mat has a quarter saved up toward a bicycle and--"

"He'd better get an automobile while he's about it," interrupted Lafe.

"He wants me to take it and go; as if I would do such a thing! You know, Ivy, he made me take that dime he had saved up when the circus came, and go to the side show with you; and we had a lot of fun shaking hands with the giant and the fat lady and seeing the animals; but this is different, and his mind is quite set on the bicycle."

Which remark reminded Ivy that her admission to the side show--the bright silver dime--was given her by Lafe, and that before he had any hope of himself seeing the circus. So she began to feel sorry for her flippant att.i.tude and said in a more kindly tone:

"Well, this is only Friday noon and the performance doesn't come off till to-night. Who knows what may turn up before then?"

This might have had the intended effect were it not for that curl which in some way affected Lafe's nerves. It now gave a careless bob that exasperated him.

"'Something may turn up;'" he muttered, "an earthquake or Mat's motor-car, perhaps!"

He went away in disgust and Ivy turned to Laura with a sigh:

"Now, what did I say to make him flare up that way?"

"He thought you didn't care--"

"Well, I don't--I don't! Laura, if I were to go sympathizing with six brothers--and boys are always clamoring for attention--I'd end in a mad house!"

Laura could hardly repress a smile at the thought of Ivy's six st.u.r.dy brothers depending on her in their troubles, knowing as she did that stone bruises, torn garments and other calamities incident to boyhood were always carried to their mother, while, as Laura often said, Hugh made himself a regular oak-tree for Ivy to twine around.

No further remarks were made on the subject, however, and the two girls started side by side on their way to a shady spot near home, to spend a few hours of the hot afternoon.

The wind caught them rather sharply at a street corner and Ivy's endeavors to balance her crutches while holding her hat in place renewed her irritation.

"If some people had troubles like this, they would have room to preach," she cried.

"I'm sure I never thought of preaching," returned Laura stiffly. "But there's no use always harping on one's own trials and thinking n.o.body else has any!"

"Meaning me, of course! Anyway, I don't care to play this afternoon.

I think I'll go home," said Ivy, turning away with crimsoning cheeks.