“I’ll run over and ask that jitney man who is watching us as if we were outlaws,” said Fred, starting off across the road.
The man was very communicative for he had nothing else to do at the time.
“Thar’s a merry-go-round back over that hill—it was runnin’ all mornin’ an’ I guess it’s thar still.”
“Just the thing!” replied Fred, thanking him.
The suggestion met with instant acceptance and every one started for the hill designated. But a disappointment awaited them. The merry-go-round was deserted with the sole exception of a small tow-headed boy.
However Fred was equal to the emergency. “‘Come one, come all, these steeds shall run around this track ’til set of sun,’” shouted he, beckoning wildly.
But Mrs. Remington would not allow him to tamper with the engine or carousel, so she questioned the small boy who turned out to be the proprietor’s son.
“Now, you run and find your Daddy and tell him we want two dollars’ worth of rides!” promised Mrs. Remington.
At the munificent offer the bare-footed urchin showed a swift and dusty pair of heels to the would-be riders, and soon returned with both father and grandfather—the latter being the patriarch of the money-till.
“Isn’t this fun! I’ve always wanted to ride on a merry-go-round!” cried Trixie.