Under the Lilacs
Where They Found His Master
Neither spoke for a minute, astonishment being too great for words; then, as by one
impulse, both stole up and touched the cake with a timid finger, quite prepared to see it
fly away in some mysterious and startling manner. It remained sitting tranquilly in the
basket, however, and the children drew a long breath of relief, for, though they did not
believe in fairies, the late performances did seem rather like witchcraft.
"The dog didn't eat it!"
"Sally didn't take it!"
"How do you know?"
"She never would have put it back."
"Can't tell, but I forgive 'em."
"What shall we do now?" asked Betty, feeling as if it would be very difficult to settle
down to a quiet tea-party after such unusual excitement.
"Eat that cake up just as fast as ever we can", and Bab divided the contested delicacy with
one chop of the big knife, bound to make sure of her own share at all events.
It did not take long, for they washed it down with sips of milk, and ate as fast as possible,
glancing round all the while to see if the queer dog was coming again.
"There! now I'd like to see any one take my cake away," said Bab, defiantly crunching
her half of the pie-crust B.
"Or mine either," coughed Betty, choking over a raisin that wouldn't go down in a hurry.
"We might as well clear up, and play there had been an earthquake," suggested Bab,
feeling that some such convulsion of Nature was needed to explain satisfactorily the
demoralized condition of her family.
"That will be splendid. My poor Linda was knocked right over on her nose. Darlin' child,
come to your mother and be fixed," purred Betty, lifting the fallen idol from a grove of
chickweed, and tenderly brushing the dirt from Belinda's heroically smiling face.
"She'll have croup to-night as sure as the world. We'd better make up some squills out of
this sugar and water," said Bab, who dearly loved to dose the dollies all round.