He whisked a table cover off of a table by his side, and there was a great pile of toy Noah's arks. King and Flip distributed them, until everybody had one.
"Why, they're empty?" cried Midge, looking into hers.
"They won't be long," said her father. "Now, young people, scatter, and fill your arks with animals. Pretend you're hunting in the jungle, or whatever you like, but capture all the animals you can find for your arks. There are hundreds in these two rooms and the halls."
"Hidden?" asked Kitty.
"Yes, hidden and in plain sight, both. But wait; there's a schedule."
Mr. Maynard unfolded a paper, and read:
"Elephants count five, tigers ten, lions fifteen, bears five, kangaroos five, cats five; all two-legged animals or birds two, fishes one, camels twenty-five, and zebras fifty. After your arks are filled, we'll count them up according to schedule, and award prizes. Now, scoot!" They scooted, and spent a merry half hour hunting the animals. They found them in all sorts of places,—tucked in behind curtains, under sofa-pillows, between books, and round among the bric-a-brac on mantels and tables. They were the little wooden animals that belonged in the arks, and the children were greatly amused when they discovered, also, the small, queer little people that represent Noah and his family.
"I s'pose as these are two-legged animals they count as birds," said
King.
"Yes," said Mr. Maynard, "all bipeds count alike."
As Marjorie made a dive for a tiger which she saw in the lower part of the hall hatrack, somebody else dived for it at the very same moment.