A District Messenger Boy, and A Necktie Party Part 6

The boys were too much surprised by the question to reply, and Dan continued, earnestly: "This goose is Crippy, an' I've had him ever since he was a baby, an'

got his leg broke. We come in here to find uncle Robert so's he could tell mother not to kill poor Crip, an' now we can't find him, an'-an'- well, we're jest two as lonesome fellers as you ever saw, an if you knew jest how we did feel you wouldn't stand there, pokin' fun at us.

For a moment none of Dan's tormentors spoke, and then the tallest one said, sympathetically, as he seated himself by the country boy's side to show that he took both the boy and the goose under his protecting arm:

"They sha'n't plague you any more, an' ef I'd 'a' known how you was feelin' I wouldn't 'a' said a word. Now tell us all about it."

Dan was in that frame of mind where he needed sympathy, and he told the whole story, while the entire party stood around, interrupting him now and then by exclamations of surprise that his parents should have been so cruel as to even think .of killing that faithful Crippy.

This consolation, even though it did Dan no material good, was very sweet to him, and he would have continued to sing the praise of his pet, had not one of the boys proposed that an effort be made to find uncle Robert's house. Then each one had a different plan to propose, none of them thinking that .at that hour-four o'clock in the afternoon ~ it might be an act of charity first to give Dan and Crippy something to eat.

It surely seemed as if this discussion as to how the search should be begun would continue until it would be too late to do anything, and while each one was stoutly maintaining that his plan was the best, an old-fas.h.i.+oned sleigh, drawn by a clumsy-looking horse, stopped directly opposite where the boys were holding their conference.

"Why, father!" cried Dan, as he saw the occupant of the sleigh, and at the same time he hugged Crippy close to him as if he believed his father had come for the goose.

"Well, Dan, you did find your uncle Robert, after all, didn't you?"

asked Mr. Hardy as he alighted, covered old Dobbin carefully with the robe, and then went to where Dan was sitting, already deserted by his new-made friends, who feared Mr. Hardy was about to inflict some signal punishment.

"No, sir, I didn't find him," faltered Dan, wondering what his father would do to him and Crippy.

"Why, haven't you been in yet?"

" In where?" asked Dan, in surprise.

"In here, of course; this is where .your uncle Robert lives," and Mr.

Hardy pointed to the house on the steps of which Dan had been sitting.

To his great surprise, Dan learned that he had followed the policeman's directions exactly; but, not knowing it, had neglected to look on he house doors for his uncle's name.

In a few moments more he and his father were in the house, while Crippy was in the kitchen actually gorging himself with food.

When Mr. Hardy found the note Dan had left, he was not at all worried about his son's safety; but when, later in the day, he had leisure, he started to the city for the travellers, and, driving directly to his brother's house, found them as has been seen.

It is easy to understand that, after all this labor on Dan's part to save his pet, Mr. Hardy readily promised that Crippy should be allowed to die of old age, instead of being killed and roasted, and Dan, with Crippy hugged very close to him, started for home with his father, sure that no boy in all the. wide world would spend a merrier Thanksgiving than he.

Crippy was also happy on that day, if food could make him so, and it is safe to say that, if he survives the wonderfully. big dinner Dan proposes to give him this year, he will live to a green old age.

A NECKTIE PARTY

CHAPTER I SI'S SCHEME.

WHEN Deacon Littlefield dismissed the pupils of the one school in the little town of Orland, on a certain day in December some years ago, he was at a decided loss to understand what caused such an excitement among them before they had walked the short length of the playground.

The deacon had a very large b.u.mp of inquisitiveness on his bald head, which, perhaps, accounted for his great desire to know why nearly all the boys and girls had stopped beside the tiny brook that scolded and fretted all the long summer days away, but which was now closely encased in ice, and why they were apparently holding a very animated discussion, despite the intensely cold weather. But the deacon's b.u.mp of inquisitiveness was counterbalanced by one representing dignity, and he thought that it would be hardly the proper thing for a deacon and a school-teacher to be seen running through the snow with a skull-cap and dressing-gown on; therefore he watched his pupils from the window, but without being able to satisfy his curiosity in the slightest degree.

The girls and boys were indeed in a high state of excitement.

On the noon of that same day, Agnes Morrell had, under injunctions of strictest secrecy, told Maria Gilman and Annie Rich of a certain plan which she had developed in her own mind. In some unaccountable way it had been whispered around until, before recess was over, nearly everyone, excepting Deacon Littlefield, knew that Aggie proposed giving what she called" a necktie party." There were but two others who knew what kind of a party this could be, and they were Maria and Annie; therefore it is not to be wondered at that she was almost overwhelmed by questions from the other girls, even before she was fairly out of the schoolhouse.

As a matter of fact, the boys were equally interested; but Si Kelly had said to his particular friends, "Now, don't let on that we care a cent about the party, whatever it is;" and, acting under what was both advice and a command, none of the boys had condescended to ask any questions, although they took good care to be near Aggie when she finally explained the purpose of the party.

"Now, this is what it is," she said, as she tied her m.u.f.fler closer about her neck, and sought shelter from the cold wind behind the high board fence. "All of us girls must meet as often as we can, during the coming week, to make ap.r.o.ns and neckties out of print. Only one ap.r.o.n and one necktie is to be alike, and Walt Haley and Mr. Dilloway are going to give us as much calico as we need."

"I thought you said you was goin' to have a party!" And Master Kelly, forgetting his own caution to the boys not to appear interested in the scheme, looked decidedly disappointed.

"So I am; but we are going to get money enough out of it to give aunt Betsey Bolton a nice present."

"Oh, it's some begging thing, is it?" And although Si knew very well that he had not a single penny about his person, he plunged his hands deeply in his pockets, as if to prevent any inroad upon his wealth.

" It isn't anything of the kind," replied Aggie, indignantly, her face flus.h.i.+ng with something very nearly resembling anger until her numerous freckles stood out quite prominently. Aggie had a large supply of freckles, as even a very near-sighted person could see. "We are going to have just as many boys as girls, and no one is obliged to come. But if any boy is willing to pay ten cents' towards helping Aunt Betsey, he buys a necktie, and the girls each buy an ap.r.o.n. Either one will be worth the ten cents, so it hasn't anything to do with begging."

"But what do you have these things to sell for? Why not let each one give ten cents for .

going to the party?" asked Winny Curtis, in a tone that was very nearly a squeak, so shrill and peculiar was his voice.

"That's the fun of it," replied Aggie, triumphantly. "After we girls have made the neckties and ap.r.o.ns, mother will wrap each one in paper, so that no one can tell which is which. Then when a boy buys one of the packages, he sees what color of necktie he has got, and he hunts for the girl that has an ap.r.o.n like it. He must go in to supper with that girl, and walk home with her after the party is over."

"Are you goin' to have a supper? " squeaked Winny.

" Yes, mother says she will get a nice one for us, and that will be the only party I am to have this winter."

"Goin' to have cake?" continued Winny, growing deeply interested, despite Si's caution.

"Of course we are. It will be just like any party, except that each boy will have to pay attention to the girl whose ap.r.o.n matches his necktie. Now, we want all of the boys to come, because it won't be any fun if there isn't an even pattern of ap.r.o.ns and neckties. We girls are going to Maria Gilman's house tonight to begin the work, and tomorrow morning the boys that will come must tell us, so we'll know just how many neckties to make."

Winny Curtis, thinking more of cake than of the charitable purpose of the party, and remembering how difficult it was for him to persuade any of the girls to allow him to walk home with them, because of his diminutive size and disagreeable voice, at once announced his determination to be present. The other boys looked at Si, and as he did not choose to commit himself, they also remained silent.

Aggie saw at once that there were more difficulties in the way of this manner of giving a party than she had supposed. She knew that Winny, as the only boy present, would not make matters very lively, even though he should be willing to buy a dozen neckties, and escort as many of the girls home.

" We'll have lots of fun," she said, "if you boys will come, for I'm sure the girls will all be there, and while we're enjoying ourselves we shall know that we're doing something to help aunt Betsey, who's a good deal poorer this year than she was last."

Then Aggie understood from Si's face that he was growing more and more opposed to the plan, and as her freckles came prominently into view again, she said, with a show of dignity that even Deacon Littlefield might have been proud of, as she started down the street: " Come, girls, let's go home, so that we can get over to Maria's house early. We'll have the party, and we'll each buy an ap.r.o.n."

Then Aggie walked away, followed by the girls, each one trying to appear as if perfectly indifferent whether any of the boys came to the party; but all thinking that it would be a very tame affair if no one but Winny was present.

On this particular year there had been but little to amuse the school children of Orland; therefore the girls, if not the boys, had hailed Aggie's scheme with delight. None of the girls had openly expressed any opinion as to the advisability of having the party for the double purpose of enjoying themselves and helping aunt Betsey; but it was easy to tell from their faces that the plan had their unqualified approval.

Winny looked around him' as the girls walked away. He had but just begun to understand that he was the only boy who had agreed to attend the party, and it was by no means pleasant to be in opposition to Si Kelly, who had a most disagreeable way of making sport of anyone who did not agree with him. Nothing but the thought that he could have a perfect feast of cake would have caused him to forget, even for an instant, that the self-appointed leader of the boys had not approved of the plan. Now, since he had accepted the invitation without first consulting Si, he believed it necessary for him to make some effort to correct what had undoubtedly been a very grave error on his part:

"Of course I sha'n't go if" the other fellers don't," he said; "I thought you was- all in for it when I spoke."

"Well, you'd better run home now, an' see how many ten-cent pieces you can find," said Si, in what he intended should be a scornful tone. " You'll be the only feller to the party, and you'll have to buy a good many neckties "

"Where are you fellers goin'?" asked Winny, feeling that he was in disgrace.

"That needn't bother you any. We're goin' to have a reg'lar good time, none of your tencent parties, - an'. you can go home now."

" But if you are to have a time, I want to be in it."

"Well, you can't, 'cause you've agreed to go to Aggie Morrell's an'

wear a ten-cent necktie; so run home, sonny, for we want to talk about what it wouldn't do for you to hear."