“Why, where are the cakes? I certainly set them in here. Who has taken them away?”
The children gazed at each other in consternation.
“I’ll bet it’s some of Bub’s doings,” said Eliza; and noticing for the first time that he was not in the room, they hastened out to find him.
“Bub, Bub!” called the mother.
“Bub, Bub!” echoed the children, as they searched the field over, and looked into every nook and corner that they could think of. But 64 there was no answer, and not a trace of him was to be found, until, at last, Charley called out,–
“Here’s his stick!”
“He cannot be far off, then,” said his mother, although she began to grow uneasy about him.
“No,” said Robert, “for he rides that stick most all the time:” then he suddenly added, “Ah, you little rascal! I see you!” Then turning to the rest, he whispered, “Just look here, but don’t make any noise!”
And Mrs. Jones and the children, gathering softly around the pen, peeping in, saw Bub, comfortably seated by the fawn, the cakes in his lap, eating them and feeding the gentle creature. Bub had teased the fawn the most, and Bub was the first to tame it.