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As he finished his sentence Max colored more deeply than before, at the same time hastily thrusting his right hand deep into the pocket on that side of his overcoat, for a peculiar sound like the cry of a young puppy seemed to come from it at that instant, much to the boy's discomfiture and astonishment.
"What is that? What have you got there, Max?" asked little Walter, p.r.i.c.king up his ears, while Violet asked with an amused look, "Have you been making an investment in livestock, Max?"
A query that seemed all the more natural and appropriate as the cluck of a hen came from the pocket on the other side of the overcoat.
Down went the left hand into that. "No, Mamma Vi, they're not in my pockets," returned the boy, with a look of great bewilderment.
"No, to be sure not," said Mr. Lilburn, and the hen clucked behind Violet's chair and the pup's cry was heard coming from underneath a heap of crocheting in Mrs. Dinsmore's lap, fairly startling her into uttering a little cry of surprise and dismay and springing to her feet.
Then everybody laughed, Rosie clapping her hands with delight, and Max glanced from one to another more mystified than ever.
"Never mind, Max," said Violet, "it's plain you are not the culprit who brought such unwelcome intruders here. Run up to your room now and make yourself ready for tea."
Max obeyed, but looking back from the doorway, asked, "Shall I send one of the servants to turn out the hen and carry away the pup?"
"Never mind, we'll attend to it," said Mr. Dinsmore.
"I'll find 'em. I can carry that pup out," said Walter, getting down from his grandpa's knee and beginning a vigorous search for it, the older people watching him with much amus.e.m.e.nt.
At length, having satisfied himself that neither it nor the hen was in the room, he concluded that they must be in Max's overcoat pockets, and told him so the moment he returned.
"No, they are not, unless some one has put them there since I went up-stairs," said Max. "But I don't believe in them, Walter. I think they were only make believe."
"How make believe?" asked the little fellow in perplexity.
"Ask Mr. Lilburn."
"Come, explain yourself, young man," said that gentleman laughingly.
"I've heard of ventriloquists, sir," said Max. "I don't know if you are one, but as pup and hen could only be heard and not seen, I think it must have been a ventriloquist's work."
"But you don't know for certain," said Rosie, coming to his side, "and please don't say anything to Zoe, or Lulu, or Gracie about it."
"I won't," he said, as the door opened and the three entered, Zoe having overtaken the two little girls on their way down-stairs after being dressed for the evening by the careful and expert Agnes.
"Mamma, do I look nice enough for your little girl?" asked Gracie, going to Violet's side.
"Very nice and sweet, my darling," was the whispered reply, accompanied by a tender caress.
Walter, hardly waiting until the necessary introductions were over, burst out eagerly, "Zoe, do you know where that pup is?"
"What pup?" she asked.
"I don't know his name."
"Well, what about him?"
"I thought he was in Max's pocket, but he wasn't, and neither was the hen."
The tea-bell rang at that instant, and Rosie, putting her lips to Walter's ear, whispered, "Do keep quiet about it, and we'll have some fun."
"Will we?" he asked with a look of mingled wonder and pleasure; "then I'll keep quiet."
All through the meal Walter was on the _qui vive_ for the fun, but there was none beyond a few jests and pleasantries which were by no means unusual in their cheerful family circle.
"There wasn't a bit of fun, Rosie," he complained to her after all had returned to the parlor.
"Wait a little," she answered, "perhaps it will come yet."
"Before I have to go to bed?"
"I hope so. Suppose you go and tell Cousin Ronald you want some fun. He knows how to make it. But be sure to whisper it in his ear."
Walter did as directed.
"Wait a wee, bairnie, and see what will happen," Cousin Ronald answered in an undertone, and with a low pleasant laugh as he lifted the little fellow to his knee.
Mr. Dinsmore sat near at hand, the ladies had gathered about the centre-table with their work, while Lester Leland and Edward Travilla hovered near their wives, the one with a newspaper, the other merely watching the busy fingers of the fair workers and making jesting comments upon what they were doing.
But presently there was a sudden commotion in their midst, one after another springing from her chair with a little startled cry and trying to dodge what, from the sound, seemed to be an enormous b.u.mble bee circling round and round their heads and in and out among them. "Buzz! buzz! buzz!"
surely never b.u.mble bee buzzed so loud before.
"Oh, catch it! kill it, Edward!" cried Zoe, with a half frantic rush to the farther side of the room. "Oh, here it comes after me! It's settling on my hair! Oh!"
"No, dear, it isn't, there is really nothing there," Edward said soothingly, yet with a laugh, for a second thought had told him the real cause of the disturbance.
"I believe it's gone," she said, drawing a long breath of relief, as she turned her head this way and that, "but where did it go to? and how strange for one to be flying about this time of year!"
The other ladies exchanging amused glances and smiles, were drawing round the table again when a loud "cluck, cluck" came from beneath it.
"Oh, there she is! there's the old hen Max brought!" cried Walter, springing from Mr. Lilburn's knee to run to the table.
Stooping down he peeped under it. "Why, no, she's not there!" he said in wonder and disappointment. "Ah, yonder she is! behind that window curtain," as "cluck, cluck cluck," came from a distant corner. "Max, Max, catch her quick, 'fore she gets away!"
Max ran and hastily drew aside the curtain.
There was nothing there, as Walter, Lulu and Gracie, who had all rushed to the spot, perceived with amazement.
"Hark!" said Mr. Dinsmore, and as a death-like silence fell upon the room the "cluck, cluck, cluck" was distinctly heard from the hall.
Out rushed the children and searched its whole length, but without finding the intruder.
Back they came to report their failure. Then dogs, big and little, barked and growled, now here, now there, little pigs squealed, cats meowed, and mice squealed from the corners, under sofas and chairs, in the ladies'
laps, in the gentlemen's pockets, yet not one could be seen.
For a while it made a great deal of sport, but at length little feeble Gracie grew frightened and nervous, and running to "Mamma Vi" hid her head in her lap with a burst of tears and sobs.
That put an end to the fun and frolic, everybody sobered down instantly and kept very quiet, while Grandpa Dinsmore carefully explained to the little weeper that Cousin Ronald had made all the sounds which had so excited and alarmed her, and that there was really nothing in the room that could hurt or annoy her.