At this direful prospect, Polly set up a most diligent search here, there, and everywhere a small boy of eight would be supposed to rest under such conditions, assisted as well as she could be by Mrs. Higby, whose ample figure, impelled by her fright, knocked down more articles than she could well set to rights again, until at last they were compelled to call in others to the search.
And in the midst of it all, they heard a shout out in the direction of the stables; and, running out to the veranda, they saw Johnny triumphantly sticking to the donkey’s back, while he waved a small switch the stable—boy had just obligingly cut for him.
“Pay him up now for your tumble,” advised the boy.
“See, I did get on all by myself!” shouted Johnny at them. “Runned away when Mrs. King went up-stairs;” then he turned, and waved his stick at Dick and Dr. Phillips driving at a furious pace into the side yard.
CHAPTER IV.
CAN SHE GO TO MRS. KING’S RECEPTION?
“I ’LL ask Uncle Carroll. Uncle Carroll, sha’n’t Aunt Fay take me? Please say yes.”
“No use to ask him, Grace; you’re too young.”
“Please, Uncle Carroll, don’t mind what Aunt Fay says. Just you say I’m to go.”
“Where?” he dropped his paper.
“Out to Mrs. King’s reception to-morrow afternoon.”