“Dear little boy,” she said, “I know just how hard it is, and how foolish it seems to you that I am afraid to trust you there without papa, or some other grown person, and you know how dearly I love you, and now you have a chance to wear my sleeve in earnest; you must run back and tell the boys that you cannot go till to-morrow, and then come home to me, and I’ll comfort you.”
Johnny turned away without a word; he did not quite shake off his mother’s arm, but he drew away from under it, and ran, not to keep the boys waiting, back to the schoolhouse. But it was not the light-footed running which had brought him home, and although, before he reached the playground, he had conquered his tears, because he was ashamed for the boys to see them, his voice trembled as he said,—
“Mother says I can’t go to-day,—that I must wait till to-morrow, and go with papa.”
The boys all knew Johnny’s mother, more or less; those who knew her more adored her, and those who knew her less admired her profoundly, so there were no jeers or tauntings upon this announcement, but they all looked sorry, and Ned Grafton said,—
“We’re awfully sorry, old fellow, but we can’t wait—it wants only five minutes of three now; good by.”
There was a general rush, and the boys were gone. Johnny walked home very slowly, thinking bitter thoughts.
“I just believe it is because mamma never was a boy!” he thought. “If papa had been at home, and I’d asked him first, he’d have let me go! Ladies don’t know about boys—they can’t. Mamma knows more than most ladies, but even she doesn’t know everything.”
The circus tent was in plain sight all the way home; it stood on a vacant lot about half way between the school and Mr. Leslie’s house, and, just as Johnny entered the gate, a burst of gay music came to his ears. His mother stood on the porch with a little basket in her hands. It was very full, and covered with a pretty red doily. Tiny and little Pep Warren, from next door, were jumping up and down on the porch, and the baby was tottering from one to the other, chuckling, and talking in what they called “Polly-talk.”
“Johnny,” said his mother, eagerly, as he came heavily up the walk, “Tiny says there are lots of blackberries in our field, and I want you and Pep to go with her and get some for tea. You’ll have to eat up what is in the basket first, and then you can fill it with blackberries. And I’m going to lend you Polly!”