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CHAPTER IV.—WASH-DAY AT MRS. WOPP’S. Betty who secretly preferred to trip the light fantastic toe in this manner, maintained a discreet silence. “Yer a reglar Mis’ Barnum,” he praised. Whereupon the enterprising program-maker began to devise new and more wonderful side-shows for her admirer..

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“How much will you pay fer them fer my missionary box?” bargained the child. “Will four shinin’ new quarters do?” “She’ll be all right. May Nell and me—I—we took our lunch and went over to Potter’s pasture. Shoot! She’s waiting now! I hope the poor little kiddie—little girl—eats, don’t wait for me,—she an’ Bouncer.” A gleeful yell greeted his paraphrase. While they ate it all came out, how they had planned and executed. Harold had peas and strawberries hidden in his mysterious basket, freshly gathered by his own hands that morning. George and Jimmy had furnished and dressed the chickens, and the girls had roasted them—with a little supervision from Mrs. Bennett—in the Yukon camping stove that belonged to Harry’s mother. Bess had given the dishes, blue and white enamel, strong as well as good to the eye, and ready for many another frolic. Lying in silent disdain on his familiar cushion, Flash, as the “Polar Bear,” did equally well; while Bouncer fretted between the fills of the home-made, bunting-draped chariot that served as “The Polar Bear’s Snowy Lair of the North.”.