shoes-buckles cut the most astonishing pigeon-wings, and to see
that mammoth bird waddle down the middle with its wings half
open, its long neck bridling, and its yellow legs in the first position
as it curtsied to its partner, was a sight to remember, it was so
intensely funny.
The merry old gentleman laughed till he cried; Mr. Burton split his
gloves, he applauded so enthusiastically; while the children beat
the dust out of the carpet hopping up and down, as they cried: “Do
it again!” “We want it all over!” when the curtain went down at last
on the flushed and panting party, Mother G—-bowing, with her hat
all awry, and the goose doing a double shuffle as if it did not know
how to leave off.
But they could not “do it all over again,” for it was growing late,
and the people felt that they certainly had received their money’s
worth that evening.
So it all ended merrily, and when the guests departed the boys
cleared the room like magic, and the promised supper to the actors
was served in handsome style. Jack and Jill were at one end, Mrs.
Goose and her bird at the other, and all between was a comical
collection of military heroes, fairy characters, and nursery
celebrities. All felt the need of refreshment after their labors, and
swept over the table like a flight of locusts, leaving devastation
behind. But they had earned their fun: and much innocent jollity
prevailed, while a few lingering papas and mammas watched the
revel from afar, and had not the heart to order these noble beings
home till even the Father of his Country declared “that he’d had a
perfectly splendid time, but couldn’t keep his eyes open another
minute,” and very wisely retired to replace the immortal cocked
hat with a night-cap.
Chapter 13 Jack Has a Mystery
“What is the matter? Does your head ache?” asked Jill, one
evening in March, observing that Jack sat with his head in his
hands, an attitude which, with him, meant either pain or
perplexity.
“No; but I’m bothered. I want some money, and I don’t see how I
can earn it,” he answered, tumbling his hair about, and frowning
darkly at the fire.
“How much?” and Jill’s ready hand went to the pocket where her
little purse lay, for she felt rich with several presents lately made
her.
“Two seventy-five. No, thank you, I won’t borrow.”
“What is it for?”
“Can’t tell.”
“Why, I thought you told me everything.”
“Sorry, but I can’t this time. Don’t you worry; I shall think of
something.”
“Couldn’t your mother help?”
“Don’t wish to ask her.”
“Why! can’t she know?”
“Nobody can.”
“How queer! Is it a scrape, Jack?” asked Jill, looking as curious as
a magpie.
“It is likely to be, if I can’t get out of it this week, somehow.”
“Well, I don’t see how I can help if I’m not to know anything”; and
Jill seemed rather hurt.
“You can just stop asking questions, and tell me how a fellow can
earn some money. That would help. I’ve got one dollar, but I must
have some more”; and Jack looked worried as he fingered the little
gold dollar on his watch-guard.
“Oh, do you mean to use that?”
“Yes, I do; a man must pay his debts if he sells all he has to do it,”
said Jack sternly.
“Dear me; it must be something very serious.” And Jill lay quite
still for five minutes, thinking over all the ways in which Jack ever
did earn money, for Mrs. Minot liked to have her boys work, and
paid them in some way for all they did.
“Is there any wood to saw?” she asked presently, being very
anxious to help.
“All done.” “Paths to shovel?”
“NO snow. “Lawn to rake, then?”
“Not time for that yet.”
“Catalogue of books?”
“Frank got that job.”
“Copy those letters for your mother?”
“Take me too long. Must have my money Friday, if possible.”
“I don’t see what we can do, then. It is too early or too late for
everything, and you won’t borrow.”
“Not of you. No, nor of anyone else, if I can possibly help it. I’ve