Bob the Castaway Part 6

CHAPTER V

A JOKE THAT WENT WRONG

For several days after the prank with the mouse Bob did not play any jokes. The teacher ascribed that fact to the lecture she had given him. Bob's mother, who also noticed that he was much more quiet than usual, feared he was going to be sick.

"I never knew him to be so subdued," she thought. "I think I must give him some sulphur and mola.s.ses. Perhaps he is getting some disease."

She mentioned it to the captain.

"Nonsense," said the mariner. "He's hatching up some trick, that's what he's doing. You want to look out."

"Oh, captain, I don't think so!"

"Well, I do. Now you mark my words. It's down on the chart that Bob is up to some mischief. He's hauled down his colors for a while, but that's only to fool the enemy. First thing you know he'll hoist the Jolly Roger, and then there'll be some queer doings in these waters."

"Hoist the Jolly Roger?"

"I mean turn pirate, so to speak. You keep your eye on that boy, Lucy. Something's going to break loose or I'm a Dutchman."

Bob's father thought his son's subdued behavior on the few days following the captain's arrival was due to a hint Bob had obtained, that, unless he mended his ways, he might be sent on a long voyage to work his pa.s.sage.

Now the truth was that Bob was merely waiting for a good chance to play a trick. He was not particular what sort of a trick it was so long as it created a laugh. The consequences never gave him a thought or worry.

So, as he could think of nothing sufficiently "funny" to do, he remained quiet. But all the while he was looking about to see if he and his boon companion, Ted Neefus, could not perpetrate some prank that would be "worth while."

"Things are awful slow," complained Ted one afternoon as he and Bob walked home from school.

"That's right," agreed Bob. "But wait. I've got a plan."

"What is it?"

Bob looked carefully up and down the street. Then he glanced behind him. Next he drew Ted into some bushes that lined the thoroughfare on which they were walking.

"You know what's going to happen Friday night, don't you?" Bob asked.

"No; what?"

"The annual donation party for the minister."

"Well, what of it?"

"I'm going."

"That's nothing. Don't you generally go? So do I, though I don't see much fun in it. Ma makes me. She says it saves gittin' a meal at home, but I don't like the stuff they have there."

"I don't either--not much--but I'm going this time and so are you.

Because, listen, something's going to happen."

"Honest?"

Bob nodded vigorously several times. There was a bright twinkle in his eyes.

"Don't say a word to anybody," he cautioned Ted, "but just you be on hand. This is going to be the best joke yet."

"Maybe he'll get mad."

"What if he does? He won't know who did it. You and I will be up in the gallery, or somewhere, and no one will see us. I'll bet there'll be some fun."

The chief trouble was, as I have pointed out before, that Bob's ideas of fun and those of other persons did not always agree. Boys and older folks seldom think the same on any subject, and so how can they be expected to about "jokes"?

The minister's donation party was an annual affair in Moreville.

Rev. Daniel Blackton, who had charge of the only church in the village, did not receive a very large salary, and it was the custom to give him a "donation party" once a year to help pay him.

This usually took the form of a supper, held in the church parlors.

The women of the congregation provided the food, and a small price was charged for the meal. Nearly every one, including the "men folks" and the children, attended, and sometimes quite a fair sum was realized in this way.

In addition, every one who could afford to was expected to bring some "donation" for the minister. The women would knit him mittens, or slippers, or socks, they would crochet articles for the minister's wife, or bring jars of preserves, which were very welcome at the parsonage.

The men would donate wood, garden products, or whatever they could best afford. In this way, while the reverend gentleman's salary was not large, he managed to obtain a comfortable living.

It was to this donation party, or supper, that Bob and Ted were going, and as they crouched in the shadow of the bushes they perfected Bob's plan for some fun.

Mrs. Henderson was usually on the committee of arrangements for the supper, and this occasion was no exception. For a week before she was busy making pies and cakes and getting great pans of baked beans ready, for the supper victuals were of a plain but very wholesome sort.

As Captain Spark was a guest at the Henderson home at the time the supper was to be held, he, of course, was invited to attend, an invitation he quickly accepted, for he was fond of hearty eating, and he was not ash.o.r.e often enough so that such affairs as donation suppers were distasteful to him, as they are to some persons.

At last the eventful evening came. Bob, dressed in his best suit, prepared to accompany his parents and Captain Spark to the church.

Such a thing as their son attempting a joke at the donation supper never occurred to Mr. or Mrs. Henderson. It is true that at the affair there was more or less jollity and good-natured fun after the formal function of supper was over and the minister had asked the blessing. But no one had ever dared play such a joke as Bob contemplated. If his mother had in the least suspected him of even dreaming of it she would have made him stay at home.

There was a good-sized throng in the church when the Henderson party arrived. Long tables had been set in the parlors, which were back of the church proper. Women in long white ap.r.o.ns were hurrying to and fro, getting ready to serve the meal. Bob followed his parents and the captain into the edifice.

"Is everything all ready?" asked Ted Neefus in a whisper as he approached Bob.

"Don't come near me," was the cautious answer. "Folks'll suspect if they see us together."

So Ted quickly glided away and was lost in the crowd.

The tables were all set, the victuals put on, and nearly every one had arrived.

"I guess we'd better get the chairs up now," proposed Mrs. Olney, who with Mrs. Henderson was superintending things. "Some of the boys can do it."

"I will, mom," volunteered Bob, who stood near his mother. "I'll get some of the fellows to help me."

"That's good," said Mrs. Henderson.

Bob hurried away, and soon he, Ted Neefus, Will Merton, Sam Shoop and some other chums were placing the chairs at the long tables.