Bunny Brown and His Sister Sue on an Auto Tour Part 21

Bunny and Sue took a last look at Fluffy, the squirrel, before they went to their bunks that night. Dix and Splash were called in and shown the squirrel in his little nest. Then Mr. Brown told both dogs sharply and solemnly that they must not bother the gray, woodland creature. Dix and Splash understood, I think, for they were smart dogs.

Both children were up early the next morning to see their new pet, and they fed Fluffy some dried crackers. At first the squirrel was a bit timid, but it soon poked its sharp nose and mouth out of a little opening on the side of the wire netting over the box and ate from the hands of Bunny and Sue.

"Don't let him bite you," said Mother Brown, as she started to get breakfast.

"Oh, Fluffy won't bite," said Bunny. "He's as tame as our cat used to be."

Once more the automobile traveled on. It rained part of the day but the shower was not a hard one, though Bunny and Sue had to stay in the big car when noon came, and dinner could not be served out-of-doors.

But the skies cleared before night, and when the auto was stopped the children could run about with their rubbers on. They were near a small town, and Mrs. Brown promised to take the children in after the meal to see if they could buy some grain or seeds for Fluffy.

The supper was an early one, and, leaving Uncle Tad at the "Ark" with the two dogs and the squirrel, Mr. and Mrs. Brown, with the two children walked into town. As they reached the middle of the village, near a public square, they heard the sound of music and saw a crowd of people around a wagon lighted by a gasolene torch, such as is used in a circus at night.

"Oh, it's a medicine show!" cried Mrs. Brown, as she saw a big, long-haired man on the back platform of a wagon, holding up a bottle about which he was talking to the people.

"Yes, and there's a banjo player with him," said Bunny. "Look, Mother!

It's a colored boy playing a banjo! Maybe it's Fred Ward!"

CHAPTER XV

WAS IT FRED?

"What's this? What's this you're talking about?" suddenly asked Mr.

Brown, as he heard what Bunny said. Or rather, Bunny's father did not hear exactly, for he had been thinking about something else. But he had caught the name Fred Ward.

"Bunny thinks that colored banjo player with that medicine show may be Fred Ward," said Mrs. Brown. "Do you think it would be of any use to inquire, Daddy?"

"Why, that _is_ a medicine show, isn't it!" exclaimed Mr. Brown, as though he saw it for the first time. "And it's just like the one we heard about that had a boy banjo player with it."

"There's a boy banjo player now," said Bunny. "He's going to play, Daddy, too! Do you think it could be Fred?"

The man who was selling the bottles of medicine, after telling the people how much good it would do them, had stopped to let the boy traveling with him play the banjo.

There are, or there used to be, many such traveling medicine shows.

Sometimes there would be a whole troop of Indians, some real and some make-believe, that would be engaged by the seller of the medicine. He would have the Indians do some of their queer dances and then, when a crowd had collected, he would sell some medicine--maybe some he said the Indians made themselves.

Another medicine seller would go about with a gaily painted wagon, carrying a cornet player, a singer or a banjoist to attract a crowd. And when the men and women were gathered about the end of the wagon, which had a broad platform on the end and a flaring gasolene torch at night, the man would tell about his medicine and sell all he could.

This traveling medicine show which Bunny Brown and his Sister Sue saw was like those. And, just as the Browns reached the place in the village square where the torch on the wagon was burning, the man had finished selling a large number of bottles of medicine. It was about time he amused the crowd again, he thought. So he called in a loud voice:

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, while I am getting out of my storeroom some more bottles of my wonderful medicine that will cure all your pains and aches, I will have my friend here, Professor Rombodno Prosondo entertain you on his magical banjo. Professor Rombodno Prosondo, I might say, is the most wonderful player on the banjo you have ever heard. He has traveled all over the world and played in every country. Professor, you will now oblige!"

Of course what the medicine man said about the banjo player was only a joke, and the people knew that. He was not a professor at all. But he was a good banjo player and a singer, and Bunny and Sue were delighted with the music. The songs, too, were funny.

"He sings like a real colored boy," said Sue.

"Maybe he is," her father observed.

"Yes, and maybe he's only blacked up, like most of them," suggested Mrs.

Brown. "Can you tell if he looks anything like Fred Ward, Daddy?"

"No, I can't be sure that he does," said Mr. Brown. "I never saw much of the missing boy, you know; and I certainly would not know him if he were blackened like a negro. This one, if he is not really colored, is well made-up. He would fool almost any one."

"Is there any way we could find out?" asked Mrs. Brown. "We ought to do all we can to find Fred for his parents."

"I'll see what I can do after the exhibition is over," promised Mr.

Brown. "I'll ask the proprietor of the medicine wagon if I can get a chance. But I'll have to do it when the banjo player can't hear, for in case he should be Fred--which I hardly think can be true--but if it should be he, and he heard me asking, he'd run away again."

"Yes, I suppose he would," said Mrs. Brown with a sigh. "Oh, how foolish boys are sometimes. They don't know what is good for them," and she looked at Bunny, as if wondering if the time would ever come when he would not be a "mother's boy." She hoped not.

"Let's get up as close as we can," said Bunny. "Maybe if it's Fred we can tell, no matter if he is blacked up like a minstrel."

"He doesn't look at all like Fred to me," said Sue. "He looks so funny with his big red lips and his white collar."

"That's the way they all dress," said Bunny. "Come on, here's a place we can squeeze through and see better."

Bunny wiggled his way up among the people. His sister followed him, and Mr. and Mrs. Brown, watching the children, knew where to find them when they wanted to go away.

"Now take a good look," whispered Sue to Bunny, as they got very near the platform on which the boy sat. She had made her whisper rather loud, and it came at just the time when the banjoist stopped playing, so that he and several persons heard the little girl.

"What's the matter?" asked one man, smiling down at Sue. "Didn't you ever see a minstrel before?"

"Yes, I did," said Sue. "But maybe not this one."

"Oh, they're all alike," said the man, but Sue paid no more attention to him, for she was nudging Bunny and trying to get him to look at the colored boy.

Bunny himself was greatly interested. He wanted to make sure whether or not the player were Fred. So he stared with all his might at the banjoist, who just then began another song.

By this time the medicine man had come out on the platform of his wagon with more filled bottles to sell. He would begin as soon as the song was finished, for more people had gathered, attracted by the music.

And then Bunny and Sue both noticed that the colored boy was looking straight at them. But he did not seem to know them. And surely, if it had been Fred Ward he would have known the Brown children, even though he had lived next door to them only a short time. People did not easily forget Bunny Brown and his Sister Sue, once they had met them.

But this banjo player evidently did not know them; or, if he did, he was not going to let it be known. He finished his song with a tw.a.n.g of the banjo strings and then hurried inside the wagon, the sides of which were of wood, like a small moving van.

Then the man began selling his medicine again, talking a great deal about it while he did so.

Mrs. Brown turned to her husband and said:

"I'm sure that was a white boy blacked up to look like a negro, and he does it very well, too. Even his voice is like a colored person's. But as he turned to go back into the wagon his sleeve slipped up and I saw that his arm was white."

"Very likely he was made up as a colored boy then," said Mr. Brown. "His lips were too red for a real colored boy's."

"Well, since we are sure of that let's ask the medicine man about him,"

went on Mrs. Brown.