He danced, very mincingly, to a tune Sarah played for him on the harmonica—Rosemary wondered how many other treasures Sarah's blouse could hold—and though Richard said that no pig, no matter how highly educated, could hope to identify that tune, it was admitted that Bony was a graceful dancer.
"He can wear spectacles and read a book, too," declared Sarah proudly, "but I couldn't bring them!"
Like all managers of celebrities she had begun to experience the tyranny of the "props."
"Well, you must have had a heap of patience," commented Warren admiringly. "Can he do anything else, Sarah?"
"Jump through a hoop," enumerated Sarah, "push a doll carriage and walk around carrying a doll like a baby—I broke two of Shirley's china dolls, teaching him that trick, but she doesn't know it yet. And, oh, yes, he can sweep—with a toy broom—and play a toy piano."
"So that's where all Shirley's toys have gone to!" Rosemary tried to speak severely, but she ended by laughing. "Shirley has been missing her playthings, one after the other," Rosemary explained to the boys. "And we thought she took them outdoors to play with and forgot where she left them."
"After supper to-night," said Sarah, calmly ignoring this disclosure, "I'll give an exhibition in the barn."