“Now,” said Mr. Harwood, when the Menagerie were safely packed, “we will start for the station, where Jem, my oldest, is due from boarding-school. Come, ponies, do your best, we won’t keep the dear boy waiting.”
There, upon the station steps, guarding his trunk and packages, stood a tall boy of fifteen, in gray uniform, looking eagerly up the road. Mr. Harwood tightly grasped the boy’s brown hand as he presented him to his friend. Jem’s first words were an inquiry after his Mamma, and then, without ceremony, he plunged in among the young folk, and before a single mile of the long road which lay between Bristol and his country home was passed, Jem Harwood was regarded by all the little party as just the best fellow that ever lived. How patiently that big boy, who had travelled all day in a heated rail-car, answered all those little questions! Yes! and put away from his mind pleasant thoughts of the longed-for meeting with the darling mother, to repeat to them the stories they had heard so many, many times. How little Alice was missed one Saturday afternoon at “Tub” time, as they called the bathing-hour, and was found bare-footed, in the brook, with the new little Indian pony, giving him his Saturday bath, scrubbing him down with her little pocket-handkerchief, and smoothing out his long, glossy mane with her own comb, whilst her tooth-brush, powder-box, and toilet-soap were lying, ready for use, in a little basket, suspended from her neck. “The squirrel” was as playful as ever, and one day he had hidden in Ned’s overcoat, quite unknown to its owner, who had hung it up in the school-room hall, and was surprised enough, when prayers were over, to see the squirrel hopping upon the master’s table.
How the children screamed with fun to see how spryly Johnny Black sprung away from the master’s long arm, till, at last, the teacher was fairly tired out, and Johnny Black gained for the boys a good hour’s play, hunting him from pillar to post, and finally catching him by the aid of a slip-noose. “The fun,” Jem said, “did not appear half so funny when the recess brought to light the fact that Johnny Black, always so well-behaved at home, had spent the prayer-time in pilfering nuts from the boys’ dinner-baskets, and nibbling their crackers and cheese. Poor Ned felt he was somehow to blame for the theft, and coaxed Mamma into giving him a basket of “goodies” to make a regular “spread” for the next day’s nooning.
“Johnny Black is a funny name for a gray squirrel, Jem,” said little Bear, who was taking a lively interest in the stories.
“Oh! we had two squirrels, and the other, whose name was Dandy Jim, was lost. We got the names from some funny verses in May’s Rhyme Book.”
“Do say them, Jem, dear,” begged Rosie.
“Well, then, here goes—
“Two little squirrels lived in a wood,
One was naughty and one was good;