CHAPTER XIII

SOMEBODY RUNS AWAY

"'School is done,

Now we'll have fun,"

Sung Bab and Betty, slamming down their books as if they never meant to

take them up again, when they came home on the last day of June.

Tired teacher had dismissed them for eight whole weeks, and gone away to

rest; the little school-house was shut up, lessons were over, spirits

rising fast, and vacation had begun. The quiet town seemed suddenly

inundated with children, all in such a rampant state that busy mothers

wondered how they ever should be able to keep their frisky darlings out

of mischief; thrifty fathers planned how they could bribe the idle hands

to pick berries or rake hay; and the old folks, while wishing the young

folks well, secretly blessed the man who invented schools.

The girls immediately began to talk about picnics, and have them, too;

for little hats sprung up in the fields like a new sort of

mushroom,--every hillside bloomed with gay gowns, looking as if the

flowers had gone out for a walk; and the woods were full of featherless

birds chirping away as blithely as the thrushes, robins, and wrens.

The boys took to base-ball like ducks to water, and the common was the

scene of tremendous battles, waged with much tumult, but little

bloodshed. To the uninitiated, it appeared as if these young men had

lost their wits; for, no matter how warm it was, there they were,

tearing about in the maddest manner, jackets off, sleeves rolled up,

queer caps flung on any way, all batting shabby leather balls, and

catching the same, as if their lives depended on it. Every one talking

in his gruffest tone, bawling at the top of his voice, squabbling over

every point of the game, and seeming to enjoy himself immensely, in

spite of the heat, dust, uproar, and imminent danger of getting eyes or

teeth knocked out.

Thorny was an excellent player, but, not being strong enough to show his

prowess, he made Ben his proxy; and, sitting on the fence, acted as

umpire to his heart's content. Ben was a promising pupil, and made rapid

progress; for eye, foot, and hand had been so well trained, that they

did him good service now; and Brown was considered a first-rate

"catcher".

Sancho distinguished himself by his skill in hunting up stray balls, and

guarding jackets when not needed, with the air of one of the Old Guard

on duty at the tomb of Napoleon. Bab also longed to join in the fun,

which suited her better than "stupid picnics" or "fussing over dolls;"

but her heroes would not have her at any price; and she was obliged to

content herself with sitting by Thorny, and watching with breathless

interest the varying fortunes of "our side."

A grand match was planned for the Fourth of July; but when the club met,

things were found to be unpropitious. Thorny had gone out of town with

his sister to pass the day, two of the best players did not appear, and

the others were somewhat exhausted by the festivities, which began at

sunrise for them. So they lay about on the grass in the shade of the big

elm, languidly discussing their various wrongs and disappointments.

"It's the meanest Fourth I ever saw. Can't have no crackers, because

somebody's horse got scared last year," growled Sam Kitteridge, bitterly

resenting the stern edict which forbade free-born citizens to burn as

much gunpowder as they liked on that glorious day.

"Last year Jimmy got his arm blown off when they fired the old cannon.

Didn't we have a lively time going for the doctors and getting him

home?" asked another boy, looking as if he felt defrauded of the most

interesting part of the anniversary, because no accident had occurred.

"Ain't going to be fireworks either, unless somebody's barn burns up.

Don't I just wish there would," gloomily responded another youth who had

so rashly indulged in pyrotechnics on a former occasion that a

neighbor's cow had been roasted whole.

"I wouldn't give two cents for such a slow old place as this. Why, last

Fourth at this time, I was rumbling though Boston streets on top of our

big car, all in my best toggery. Hot as pepper, but good fun looking in

at the upper windows and hearing the women scream when the old thing

waggled round and I made believe I was going to tumble off, said Ben,

leaning on his bat with the air of a man who had seen the world and felt

some natural regret at descending from so lofty a sphere.

"Catch me cuttin' away if I had such a chance as that!" answered Sam,

trying to balance his bat on his chin and getting a smart rap across the

nose as he failed to perform the feat.

"Much you know about it, old chap. It's hard work, I can tell you, and

that wouldn't suit such a lazy-bones. Then you are too big to begin,

though you might do for a fat boy if Smithers wanted one," said Ben,

surveying the stout youth, with calm contempt.

"Let's go in swimming, not loaf round here, if we can't play," proposed

a red and shiny boy, panting for a game of leap-frog in Sandy pond.

"May as well; don't see much else to do," sighed Sam, rising like a

young elephant.

The others were about to follow, when a shrill "Hi, hi, boys, hold on!"

made them turn about to behold Billy Barton tearing down the street like

a runaway colt, waving a long strip of paper as he ran.

"Now, then, what's the matter?" demanded Ben, as the other came up

grinning and puffing, but full of great news.

"Look here, read it! I'm going; come along, the whole of you," panted

Billy, putting the paper into Sam's hand, and surveying the crowd with a

face as beaming as a full moon.

"Look out for the big show," read Sam. "Van Amburgh & Co.'s New Great

Golden Menagerie, Circus and Colosseum, will exhibit at Berryville, July

4th, at 1 and 7 precisely. Admission 50 cents, children half-price.

Don't forget day and date. H. Frost, Manager."

While Sam read, the other boys had been gloating over the enticing

pictures which covered the bill. There was the golden car, filled with

noble beings in helmets, all playing on immense trumpets; the twenty-four

prancing steeds with manes, tails, and feathered heads tossing in

the breeze; the clowns, the tumblers, the strong men, and the riders

flying about in the air as if the laws of gravitation no longer existed.

But, best of all, was the grand conglomeration of animals where the

giraffe appears to stand on the elephant's back, the zebra to be jumping

over the seal, the hippopotamus to be lunching off a couple of

crocodiles, and lions and tigers to be raining down in all directions

with their mouths, wide open and their tails as stiff as that of the

famous Northumberland House lion.

"Cricky! wouldn't I like to see that," said little Cyrus Fay, devoutly

hoping that the cage, in which this pleasing spectacle took place, was a

very strong one.

"You never would, it's only a picture! That, now, is something like,"

and Ben, who had pricked up his ears at the word "circus," laid his

finger on a smaller cut of a man hanging by the back of his neck with a

child in each hand, two men suspended from his feet, and the third

swinging forward to alight on his head.

"I 'm going," said Sam, with calm decision, for this superb array of

unknown pleasures fired his soul and made him forget his weight.

"How will you fix it?" asked Ben, fingering the bill with a nervous

thrill all through his wiry limbs, just as he used to feel it when his

father caught him up to dash into the ring.

"Foot it with Billy. It's only four miles, and we've got lots of time,

so we can take it easy. Mother won't care, if I send word by Cy,"

answered Sam, producing half a dollar, as if such magnificent sums were

no strangers to his pocket.

"Come on, Brown; you'll be a first-rate fellow to show us round, as you

know all the dodges," said Billy, anxious to get his money's worth.

"Well, I don't know," began Ben, longing to go, but afraid Mrs. Moss

would say "No!" if he asked leave.

"He's afraid," sneered the red-faced boy, who felt bitterly toward all

mankind at that instant, because he knew there was no hope of his going.

"Say that again, and I'll knock your head off," and Ben faced round with

a gesture which caused the other to skip out of reach precipitately.

"Hasn't got any money, more likely," observed a shabby youth, whose

pockets never had any thing in them but a pair of dirty hands.

Ben calmly produced a dollar bill and waved it defiantly before this

doubter, observing with dignity:

"I've got money enough to treat the whole crowd, if I choose to, which I

don't."

"Then come along and have a jolly time with Sam and me. We can buy some

dinner and get a ride home, as like as not," said the amiable Billy,

with a slap on the shoulder, and a cordial grin which made it impossible

for Ben to resist.

"What are you stopping for?" demanded Sam, ready to be off, that they

might "take it easy."

"Don't know what to do with Sancho. He'll get lost or stolen if I take

him, and it's too far to carry him home if you are in a hurry," began

Ben, persuading himself that this was the true reason of his delay.

"Let Cy take him back. He'll do it for a cent; won't you, Cy?" proposed

Billy, smoothing away all objections, for he liked Ben, and saw that he

wanted to go.

"No, I won't; I don't like him. He winks at me, and growls when I touch

him," muttered naughty Cy, remembering how much reason poor Sanch had to

distrust his tormentor.

"There 's Bab; she'll do it. Come here, sissy; Ben wants you," called

Sam, beckoning to a small figure just perching on the fence.

Down it jumped and Came fluttering up, much elated at being summoned by

the captain of the sacred nine.

"I want you to take Sanch home, and tell your mother I'm going to walk,

and may be won't be back till sundown. Miss Celia said I Might do what I

pleased, all day. You remember, now."

Ben spoke without looking up, and affected to be very busy buckling a

strap into Sanch's collar, for the two were so seldom parted that the

dog always rebelled. It was a mistake on Ben's part, for while his eyes

were on his work Bab's were devouring the bill which Sam still held, and

her suspicions were aroused by the boys' faces.

"Where are you going? Ma will want to know," she said, as curious as a

magpie all at once.

"Never you mind; girls can't know every thing. You just catch hold of

this and run along home. Lock Sanch up for an hour, and tell your mother

I'm all right," answered Ben, bound to assert his manly supremacy before

his mates.

"He's going to the circus," whispered Fay, hoping to make mischief.

"Circus! Oh, Ben, do take me!" cried Bab, falling into a state of great

excitement at the mere thought of such delight.

"You couldn't walk four miles," began Ben.

"Yes, I could, as easy as not."

"You haven't got any money."

"You have; I saw you showing your dollar, and you could pay for me, and

Ma would pay it back."

"Can't wait for you to get ready."

"I'll go as I am. I don't care if it is my old hat," and Bab jerked it

on to her head.

"Your mother wouldn't like it."

"She won't like your going, either."

"She isn't my missis now. Miss Celia wouldn't care, and I'm going, any

way."

"Do, do take me, Ben! I'll be just as good as ever was, and I'll take

care of Sanch all the way," pleaded Bab, clasping her hands and looking

round for some sign of relenting in the faces of the boys.

"Don't you bother; we don't want any girls tagging after us," said Sam,

walking off to escape the annoyance.

"I'll bring you a roll of chickerberry lozengers, if you won't tease,"

whispered kind-hearted Billy, with a consoling pat on the crown of the

shabby straw hat.

"When the circus comes here you shall go, certain sure, and Betty too,"

said Ben, feeling mean while he proposed what he knew was a hollow

mockery.

"They never do come to such little towns; you said so, and I think you

are very cross, and I won't take care of Sanch, so, now!" cried Bab,

getting into a passion, yet ready to cry, she was so disappointed.

"I Suppose it wouldn't do--" hinted Billy, with a look from Ben to the

little girl, who stood winking hard to keep the tears back.

"Of Course it wouldn't. I'd like to see her walking eight miles. I

don't mind paying for her; it's getting her there and back. Girls are

such a bother when you want to knock round. No, Bab, you can't go.

Travel right home and don't make a fuss. Come along, boys; it 's most

eleven, and we don't want to walk fast."

Ben spoke very decidedly; and, taking Billy's arm, away they went,

leaving poor Bab and Sanch to watch them out of sight, one sobbing, the

other whining dismally.

Somehow those two figures seemed to go before Ben all along the pleasant

road, and half spoilt his fun; for though he laughed and talked, cut

canes, and seemed as merry as a grig, he could not help feeling that he

ought to have asked leave to go, and been kinder to Bab.

"Perhaps Mrs. Moss would have planned somehow so we could all go, if I'd

told her, I'd like to show her round, and she's been real good to me. No

use now. I'll take the girls a lot of candy and make it all right."

He tried to settle it in that way and trudged gayly off, hoping Sancho

wouldn't feel hurt at being left, wondering if any of "Smithers's lot"

would be round, and planning to do the honors handsomely to the boys.

It was very warm; and just outside of the town they paused by a wayside

watering-trough to wash their dusty faces, and cool off before plunging

into the excitements of the afternoon. As they stood refreshing

themselves, a baker's cart came jingling by; and Sam proposed a hasty

lunch while they rested. A supply of gingerbread was soon bought; and,

climbing the green bank above, they lay on the grass under a wild

cherry-tree, munching luxuriously, while they feasted their eyes at the

same time on the splendors awaiting them; for the great tent, with all

its flags flying, was visible from the hill.

"We'll cut across those fields,--it 's shorter than going by the road,--and

then we can look round outside till it's time to go in. I want to

have a good go at every thing, especially the lions," said Sam,

beginning on his last cookie.

"I heard 'em roar just now;" and Billy stood up to gaze with big eyes at

the flapping canvas which hid the king of beasts from his longing sight.

"That was a cow mooing. Don't you be a donkey, Bill. When you hear a

real roar, you'll shake in your boots," said Ben, holding up his

handkerchief to dry, after it had done double duty as towel and napkin.

"I wish you'd hurry up, Sam. Folks are going in now. I see 'em!" and

Billy pranced with impatience; for this was his first circus, and he

firmly believed that he was going to behold all that the pictures

promised.

"Hold on a minute, while I get one more drink. Buns are dry fodder,"

said Sam, rolling over to the edge of the bank and preparing to descend

with as little trouble as possible.

He nearly went down head first, however; for, as he looked before he

leaped, he beheld a sight which caused him to stare with all his might

for an instant, then turn and beckon, saying in an eager whisper,

"Look here, boys,--quick!"

Ben and Billy peered over, and both suppressed an astonished "Hullo!"

for there stood Bab, waiting for Sancho to lap his fill out of the

overflowing trough.

Such a shabby, tired-looking couple as they were! Bab with a face as red

as a lobster and streaked with tears, shoes white with dust, playfrock

torn at the gathers, something bundled up in her apron, and one shoe

down at the heel as if it hurt her. Sancho lapped eagerly, with his eyes

shut; all his ruffles were gray with dust, and his tail hung wearily

down, the tassel at half mast, as if in mourning for the master whom he

had come to find. Bab still held the strap, intent on keeping her charge

safe, though she lost herself; but her courage seemed to be giving out,

as she looked anxiously up and down the road, seeing no sign of the three

familiar figures she had been following as steadily as a little Indian

on the war-trail.

"Oh, Sanch, what shall I do if they don't come along? We must have gone

by them somewhere, for I don't see any one that way, and there isn't any

other road to the circus, seems to me."

Bab spoke as if the dog could understand and answer; and Sancho looked

as if he did both, for he stopped drinking, pricked up his cars, and,

fixing his sharp eyes on the grass above him, gave a suspicious bark.

"It's only squirrels; don't mind, but come along and be good; for I 'm

so tired, I don't know what to do!" sighed Bab, trying to pull him after

her as she trudged on, bound to see the outside of that wonderful tent,

even if she never got in.

But Sancho had heard a soft chirrup; and, with a sudden bound, twitched

the strap away, sprang up the bank, and landed directly on Ben's back as

he lay peeping over. A peal of laughter greeted him; and, having got the

better of his master in more ways than one, he made the most of the

advantage by playfully worrying him as he kept him down, licking his

face in spite of his struggles, burrowing in his neck with a ticklish

nose, snapping at his buttons, and yelping joyfully, as if it was the

best joke in the world to play hide-and-seek for four long miles.

Before Ben could quiet him, Bab came climbing up the bank, with such a

funny mixture of fear, fatigue, determination, and relief in her dirty

little face, that the boys could not look awful if they tried.

"How dared you come after us, miss?" demanded Sam, as she looked calmly

about her, and took a seat before she was asked.

"Sanch would come after Ben; I couldn't make him go home, so I had to

hold on till he was safe here, else he'd be lost, and then Ben would

feel bad."

The cleverness of that excuse tickled the boys immensely; and Sam tried

again, while Ben was getting the dog down and sitting on him.

"Now you expect to go to the circus, I suppose."

"Course I do. Ben said he didn't mind paying, if I could get there

without bothering him, and I have; and I'll go home alone. I ain't

afraid. Sanch will take care of me, if you won't," answered Bab,

stoutly.

"What do you suppose your mother will say to you?" asked Ben, feeling

much reproached by her last words.

"I guess she'll say you led me into mischief; and the sharp child

nodded, as if she defied him to deny the truth of that.

"You'll catch it when you get home, Ben; so you'd better have a good

time while you can," advised Sam, thinking Bab great fun, since none of

the blame of her pranks would fall on him. "What would you have done if

you hadn't found us?" asked Billy, forgetting his impatience in his

admiration for this plucky young lady.

"I'd have gone on and seen the circus, and then I'd have gone home again

and told Betty all about it," was the prompt answer.

"But you haven't any money."

"Oh, I'd ask somebody to pay for me. I 'm so little, it wouldn't be

much."

"Nobody would do it; so you'd have to stay outside, you see."

"No, I wouldn't. I thought of that, and planned how I'd fix it if I

didn't find Ben. I'd make Sanch do his tricks, and get a quarter that

way; so, now! answered Bab, undaunted by any obstacle.

"I do believe she would! You are a smart child, Bab; and if I had enough

I'd take you in myself," said Billy, heartily; for, having sisters of

his own, he kept a soft place in his heart for girls, especially

enterprising ones.

"I'll take care of her. It was very naughty to come, Bab; but, so long

as you did, you needn't worry about any thing. I'll see to you; and you

shall have a real good time," said Ben, accepting his responsibilities

without a murmur, and bound to do the handsome thing by his persistent

friend.

"I thought you would;" and Bab folded her arms, as if she had nothing

further to do but enjoy herself.

"Are you hungry?" asked Billy, fishing out several fragments of

gingerbread.

"Starving!" and Bab ate them with such a relish that Sam added a small

contribution; and Ben caught some water for her in his hand, where the

little spring bubbled up beside a stone.

"Now, you wash your face and spat down your hair, and put your hat on

straight, and then we'll go," commanded Ben, giving Sanch a roll on the

grass to clean him.

Bab scrubbed her face till it shone; and, pulling down her apron to wipe

it, scattered a load of treasures collected in her walk. Some of the

dead flowers, bits of moss, and green twigs fell near Ben, and one

attracted his attention,--a spray of broad, smooth leaves, with a

bunch of whitish berries on it.

"Where did you get that?" he asked, poking it with his foot.

"In a swampy place, coming along. Sanch saw something down there; and I

went with him, 'cause I thought may be it was a musk-rat, and you'd like

one if we could get him."

"Was it?" asked the boys all at once, and with intense interest.

"No; only a snake, and I don't care for snakes. I picked some of that,

it was so green and pretty. Thorny likes queer leaves and berries, you

know," answered Bab, "spatting," down her rough locks.

"Well, he won't like that, nor you either; it's poisonous, and I

shouldn't wonder if you'd got poisoned, Bab. Don't touch it!

Swamp-sumach is horrid stuff,--Miss Celia said so;" and Ben looked

anxiously at Bab, who felt her chubby face all over, and examined her

dingy hands with a solemn air, asking, eagerly,--

"Will it break out on me 'fore I get to the circus?"

"Not for a day or so, I guess; but it's bad when it does come."

"I don't care, if I see the animals first. Come quick, and never mind

the old weeds and things," said Bab, much relieved; for present bliss

was all she had room for now in her happy little heart.

Under the Lilacs · 第 13 / 24 章