AT LAST THE FAIR
"We're late now," said the long-suffering Sam. "What do you want to
ask Mr. Mendam, Dot? Hurry up."
Mr. Mendam was still standing on the curb and Dot leaned out of the
sleigh to call to him.
"I wish I could know who the sled belongs to," she said earnestly. "If
a little girl owns it, will you let me know? Or a little boy--please?"
"I'll write you and tell you," Mr. Mendam promised. "Of course you're
interested; I won't forget, Dot."
You see, he knew them quite well by this time--their names and ages and
what they did at home and in school. He was another friend, as Meg
told her mother when she reached home.
Sam said he hoped they could get home without any more exciting events,
and he had his wish. Good old Walter trotted along sedately and the
extra load made the sleigh slip along more evenly. They did not go
through the cross road, but kept to the good roads all the way and
almost before the four little Blossoms knew it, they saw the lights
twinkling from their house.
"Did you eat your candy?" asked Sam as he helped them out, before
driving on to the foundry with the boxes.
"Meg said to save it for Mother and Daddy and Aunt Polly and Norah, so
we did," Bobby explained. "They didn't have any sodas."
You may be sure they had a great deal to tell as soon as they were
inside the house and when Bobby pulled out the money Mr. Mendam had
given him, they were all surprised. Instead of one ten dollar bill,
there were two, and Father Blossom said it would pay almost two months
rent for Mrs. Jordan. Mother Blossom was quite willing for them to
keep the money--since it was not for themselves--and she promised to
write Mr. Mendam a note of thanks. She did the very next morning and
it crossed a letter from him to Dot, telling her that the sled had been
claimed by a little girl whose farmer father had let it fall out of his
wagon on the way home from the creamery and never missed it. The
little girl's cousin, who had outgrown the sled, had sent it to her and
she was very glad to have it found.
"Isn't supper ready?" asked Bobby hungrily, when they had told
everything that had happened to them that afternoon.
"Ready and waiting for you," answered his mother. "But first there is
something on the table in the living-room for you to look at. You
especially, Meg."
The twins, who had been prevented from telling only by main force,
rushed in with Meg and Bobby. There on the table, under the light of
the lamp, lay Meg's lost locket!
"Oh, Mother!" shrieked Meg. "Mother! Where did it come from? Who
found it? Where was it? And it isn't hurt a bit, is it?"
"Paul Jordan found it," said Dot, with satisfaction. "And Daddy's
going to give you the reward to give him. It was in the snow all this
time. Paul was digging out the gutter 'longside the road 'cause he
thought maybe it might thaw. And he found it."
"How perfectly lovely!" exclaimed Meg, her face bright with pleasure.
"Now I'll put it in the velvet box, and never, never wear it again only
when Mother says to. Aren't you glad, Aunt Polly?"
"Yes indeed, darling," answered Aunt Polly, as Meg threw her arms
around her.
It was lucky Meg couldn't look forward and see when she would wear the
locket the next time, or she would never have been able to eat her good
supper so quietly. But she didn't know, and you will have to wait with
her till you meet the four little Blossoms in another book.
After the news spread about that Meg's locket had been found and that
Paul Jordan had found it for her, the children were more interested
than ever in the play and the fair which were to earn money for him and
his mother. Poor Paul had been in bed since the finding of the locket,
for digging in the snow had been work that was too heavy for him, and
his lame leg pained him more than usual. Meg went to see him with
Father Blossom and took him the ten dollars reward, which he was very
glad to get.
When the Saturday afternoon for the fair came, the Blossom house was
crowded. The fair tables were arranged in the living-room, and Norah
stood at the door to take the tickets. Aunt Polly had printed these,
and one of them and ten cents entitled the holder to "walk in and look
around." Another ten cents would entitle the visitor to a reserved
seat for the stuffed animal play.
They had the fair first, because in order to put in the chairs for the
audience for the play, it would be necessary to remove the tables. In
just exactly an hour and a half from the time the fair opened, every
single thing was sold, cake, ice-cream, lemonade, fancy-work-table
things, and all.
"Gee!" said Bobby, preparing to help Sam carry out his table, "I wonder
how much we made?"
"Oh, ever so much," guessed Dot. "Doctor Maynard bought the pink
pincushion, and I didn't know how much change to give him, an' he said
never mind, he'd forgotten how arithmetic went. Did you see Miss
Mason, Meg?"
"Yes. And she's going to stay for the play. And Mr. Carter, too,"
said Meg. "Maybe we'll feel funny playing with them watching us."
"No such thing!" Bobby was positive about it. "Anyway," he added,
weakening, "we'll have on our animal cases."
With much talk and laughter, the room was finally cleared. Mother
Blossom had managed to save some ice-cream for the players, and they
had this in great state in the kitchen while Sam was putting in the
chairs for the audience. Then Aunt Polly came out and swept every
child who was to take part into the dining-room, and said they must all
get into their costumes.
The living-room was long--it had once been two rooms--and a part of it
had been reserved for the stage. Aunt Polly didn't bother with
scenery, and yet no one had any difficulty in recognizing the first
scene when two of the children jerked back the portière curtains.
"Well, what do you know about that!" said a surprised father right out
loud.
It was the story of the Three Bears they were playing, and there they
all were, the Big Bear and the Middle-Sized Bear and the Littlest Bear,
with their bowls of porridge and their beds made by putting two chairs
together.
"Isn't that great!" said Miss Mason, when the curtain was pulled
together again. She was so excited she never noticed she had used
slang. "Who was the cunning littlest bear?"
"Dot and Twaddles," Father Blossom informed her proudly. "But wait
till you see the next."
"A Day at the Zoo" came next, and Aunt Polly had planned this to give
each child a chance to play. There were six animals on the stage--five
besides the cinnamon bear that was Dot and Twaddles--a lion, a tiger, a
polar bear, a great flapping seal, and a zebra.
Each animal came forward and made a polite little bow, then recited
some verses about what he thought of life in the Zoo.
When it came the polar bear's turn, he ambled to the front of the stage
with an easy lope that convulsed the audience and started off bravely
with this verse, which you may have heard before. Perhaps your mother
knew it when she was a little girl:
"I'm a poor little bear, I belong to the show,
I stand here and sulk, but it's naughty, I know.
They want me to bow, to behave very nice,
But I long to go home and sleep on the ice."
The polar bear, wagging his red flannel tongue, recited very nicely
till he came to the last line. Then a big sneeze suddenly shook him.
"Oh, dear!" said part of him, most distinctly.
And another section of him piped up quickly, "Please excuse me!"
The audience clapped and clapped and laughed. They wanted the polar
bear to recite again, but he backed off and refused to come out. So
they drew the curtains together again and opened them in a few minutes
for the lion and the tiger to dance a pretty little waltz for which
Aunt Polly played the music. Then the entertainment was over.
The animals, still in their covers, as Meg called them, came down among
the audience and received many congratulations on their performance.
"I never enjoyed anything more in my life!" Mr. Carter assured Bobby,
smiling as though something had pleased him very much.
Mother Blossom had asked all the players to stay for supper, and after
the guests had gone twelve boys and girls sat down at the big, round
table and enjoyed Norah's sandwiches and bouillon and more ice-cream
and cake.
"Just like a birthday," said Dot, trying not to show that she was
sleepy.
"Better than a birthday," replied Aunt Polly, coming into the room with
a box in her hand. "I've counted the money, honeys, because I know you
are all eager to know how much you have for poor Mrs. Jordan and her
son Paul. Suppose you guess?"
"Ten dollars?" ventured Meg.
"Eleven?" said Bobby.
"Fifteen?" shouted the twins recklessly, guessing from Aunt Polly's
face that Meg and Bobby were wrong.
"Twenty-three dollars and fifty cents," said Aunt Polly, shaking the
box happily. "I think that is a good deal for twelve little people to
make for such an entertainment."
"Isn't that splendid!" sighed Marion Green. "That will pay the rent
for their house for more than a month, I guess."
"Maybe they can buy a new house with it," said Twaddles hopefully.
Which made everybody laugh.
THE END