PEGGY'S GENEROSITY.
"Oh, Peggy, it's the proudest moment of my life!" cried Jimsy, as a
shouting, excited crowd surrounded the aëroplane in which Peggy still
sat, feeling dazed and a little dizzy.
"Oh, you wonderful girl!" cried out Bess, half laughing and half crying;
"gracious, what an exciting finish. I thought I'd go wild when it looked
as if you weren't going to win."
They helped her from the aëroplane while policemen pushed the crowd
back. Somebody brought a tray with steaming hot tea and crackers on it.
But Peggy could not eat. She felt faint and dreamy.
"Brace up!" urged Jimsy.
"I'll be all right in a minute. It's the strain of those last few
minutes. I never thought I'd win."
"And I never doubted it," declared Jess stoutly.
"I wonder where Roy is?" asked Peggy anxiously, as they entered a box in
the grandstand where they could be secluded from the shoving, curious,
staring crowd.
"Don't know; but he's all right, depend upon it," said Jimsy cheerfully;
"hello, what's that coming now?"
"It's a homing aëroplane."
Then, a minute later:
"It's Roy. Look at him come. I didn't think the _Red Dragon_ could go
as fast."
Roy it was, sure enough. He was coming at a pace that might have landed
him as winner of the race if he had not been delayed by his errand of
mercy.
Ten minutes later he had joined them. First he explained what had
happened to the judges of the course. Kelly, crest-fallen and
wretched-looking, thanked him half heartedly for what he had done and
said that he would care for Speedwell till he got better, which, by
the way, was a promise that he did not perform.
A sudden stir in the crowd caused the little party in the box to
look up.
A man was hastily chalking up some legend on the big black bulletin
board. It ran thus:
Long-distance Race for $500 prize.
Start of Flight--11:01:2.
Finish of Flight--12:02:0.
Maximum Height--1,500 feet.
Wind Velocity--10 miles from southeast.
Winner--_Golden Butterfly_.
Winning Aviator--Miss Margaret Prescott.
What a cheer went up then. It seemed as if the roof would be raised off
the grandstand by it.
"It's like a dream!" sighed Peggy, "just like a dream."
"Now, don't get fainty, Peggy, or Miss Margaret Prescott," admonished
Jess; "as Jimsy says, 'brace up,' the best is yet to come."
A man came up to where they were sitting. In his hand he had a slip of
pink paper.
Roy reached out for it, but the man said that he had instructions to
hand it only to Peggy.
"It's the check for the prize-winning money," he explained.
Peggy took it and sat gazing at it for a minute.
"Oh, Peggy, what are you going to do with it?" asked Bess. "Buy some
dresses or hats or----"
"None of those things," said Peggy; "I made up my mind before I went
into the race as to what I would do with the money if I won."
"And what's that?" asked Miss Prescott.
"Why, it must go toward The Wren's education," rejoined the girl.
"Oh, Peggy, you darling!" cried Jess, flinging her arms round her chum,
in full view of the grandstand and the crowd below.
As for The Wren, she gazed up at the girl with wide-open brown eyes.
"You are too good to me--too good," she said simply; but there was a
plaintive quiver in her voice.
Mr. James Parker sat on the porch of his home, in the foothills of the
Big Smokies, gazing out over the landscape. Seemingly he was watching
for something.
"He done watch de sky lak he 'spected de bottom drap clean out uv it
pretty soon," said Uncle Jupe, his factotum, to his wife Mandy.
"'Gwan, you fool nigger, don' you know dat dem flying boys an' gals is
to be hayr ter-day?"
"Oh, dat's jes a joke, dat is," rejoined Uncle Jupe; "how's they all
goin' ter fly ah'd lak to know."
"I don' know, but dat's what Marse Parker says."
"Den he's been grocersly imposed upon by somebody. Ain't likely dat ef
de Lawd had meant us ter fly he'd have give us wings, wouldn't he?"
"Go 'long, now, Don' flossyfying roun' hyar. You git out an' hoe dat
cohn. Look libely, now. You git it done fo' dinner or dere'll be
trouble."
Uncle Jupe shuffled out of the kitchen, but in a minute he came rushing
back.
"Wha' de matter?" demanded his wife, noticing his wildly staring eyes
and open mouth; "you gone fool crazy?"
"M-m-m-m-mandy, it's true! It's true!" gasped Uncle Jupe.
"Wha's true,--dat you all's crazy?"
"Yes--no, it's 'bout dem flyin' things. Dey's comin'. Come and look wid
your own eyes."
Mandy shuffled out. There, sure enough, coming toward them, was a flock
of what at first sight appeared to be immense birds. But it was the
young sky cruisers nearing their destination.
On the porch Mr. Parker stood up and waved his newspaper. Ten minutes
later the aëroplanes came to earth in the smooth front lawn, while Uncle
Jupe restrained a strong inclination to run away.
"Dey ain't canny, dem things," he declared; "ef de Lord had wanted us to
fly he'd have given us wings, I guess.
"Yes, sir, he'd sure have given us wings des de same as angels hev," he
repeated musingly.