Under the Lilacs | Page 6

that identical time. No one had
been near the old house but the two children, and no one could throw
any light upon that singular affair.
It produced a great effect, however; for even "teacher" was interested,
and told such amazing tales of a juggler she once saw, that doughnuts
were left forgotten in dinner-baskets, and wedges of pie remained
suspended in the air for several minutes at a time, instead of vanishing
with miraculous rapidity as usual. At afternoon recess, which the girls
had first, Bab nearly dislocated every joint of her little body trying to
imitate the poodle's antics. She had practised on her bed with great
success, but the wood-shed floor was a different thing, as her knees and
elbows soon testified.
"It looked just as easy as any thing; I don't see how he did it," she said,
coming down with a bump after vainly attempting to walk on her
hands.
"My gracious, there he is this very minute!" cried Betty, who sat on a
little wood-pile near the door. There was a general rush, -- and sixteen
small girls gazed out into the rain as eagerly as if to behold Cinderella's
magic coach, instead of one forlorn dog trotting by through the mud.
"Oh, do call him in and make him dance!" cried the girls, all chirping at
once, till it sounded as if a flock of sparrows had taken possession of
the shed.
"I will call him, he knows me," and Bab scrambled up, forgetting how
she had chased the poodle and called him names two days ago.
He evidently had not forgotten, however; for, though he paused and
looked wistfully at them, he would not approach, but stood dripping in
the rain, with his frills much bedraggled, while his tasselled tail wagged
slowly, and his pink nose pointed suggestively to the pails and baskets,
nearly empty now.
"He's hungry; give him something to eat, and then he'll see that we
don't want to hurt him," suggested Sally, starting a contribution with

her last bit of bread and butter.
Bab caught up her new pail, and collected all the odds and ends; then
tried to beguile the poor beast in to eat and be comforted. But he only
came as far as the door, and, sitting up, begged with such imploring
eyes that Bab put down the pail and stepped back, saying pitifully, --
"The poor thing is starved; let him eat all he wants, and we won't touch
him."
The girls drew back with little clucks of interest and compassion; but I
regret to say their charity was not rewarded as they expected, for, the
minute the coast was clear, the dog marched boldly up, seized the
handle of the pail in his mouth, and was off with it, galloping down the
road at a great pace.
Shrieks arose from the children, especially Bab and Betty, basely
bereaved of their new dinner-pail; but no one could follow the thief, for
the Ben rang, and in they went, so much excited that the boys rushed
tumultuously forth to discover the cause. By the time school was over
the sun was out, and Bab and Betty hastened home to tell their wrongs
and be comforted by mother, who did it most effectually.
"Never mind, dears, I'll get you another pail, if he doesn't bring it back
as he did before. As it is too wet for you to play out, you shall go and
see the old coach-house as I promised, Keep on your rubbers and come
along."
This delightful prospect much assuaged their woe, and away they went,
skipping gayly down the gravelled path, while Mrs. Moss followed,
with skirts well tucked up, and a great bunch of keys in her hand; for
she lived at the Lodge, and had charge of the premises.
The small door of the coach-house was fastened inside, but the large
one had a padlock on it; and this being quickly unfastened, one half
swung open, and the little girls ran in, too eager and curious even to cry
out when they found themselves at last in possession of the
long-coveted old carriage. A dusty, musty concern enough; but it had a

high seat, a door, steps that let down, and many other charms which
rendered it most desirable in the eyes of children.
Bab made straight for the box and Betty for the door; but both came
tumbling down faster than they went up, when from the gloom of the
interior came a shrill bark, and a low voice saying quickly, "Down,
Sancho! down!"
"Who is there?" demanded Mrs. Moss, in a stern tone, backing toward
the door with both children clinging to her skirts.
The well-known curly white head was popped out of the broken
window, and a mild