of the middle of the load of hay.

"I didn't know that you pretended to be a ventriloquist, Farmer
Jonathan," said he, laughing; "but if you can't imitate a boy's voice
better than that, you should take some more lessons in the art."

Farmer Jonathan only smiled, and looked about him to see if he could
discover who the ventriloquist was.

"Mr. Dionysius Bacon, don't stand in the sun without your hat," said
Gil, in a queer voice. At this every one laughed and shouted, except
Dionysius. Gil and Dora laughed, because the people did, and this made
the others laugh and shout harder than ever.

"Good for you, Farmer Jonathan!" said half a dozen persons. "You ought
to hire the Music Hall, and start a show."

"I don't know anything about ventriloquism," said he, putting his hands
into his pockets, and chuckling at the very idea.

"But you can't imitate this," said Dionysius, trying not to appear
provoked: "'If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.'"

"'If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,'" said Gil, imitating
the grocer's voice as near as he could. At which you could have heard
the people's ha! ha! has! and their shouts of delight a block away.

"Now do you still mean to tell me, Farmer Jonathan, that you are not
playing this trick?" asked the grocer.

"Certainly I do. But why don't you suspect some of these gentlemen?"

Then Dionysius appealed to each one separately, not even missing the
boys and girls who had been drawn to the spot by the merriment; but all
denied being able to ventriloquize, and said that they were sure it had
been Farmer Jonathan.

Still, of course, the farmer had to deny it.

"See here," said Dionysius, "I'll buy your hay, and treat every man,
girl, and boy present to Smith's best twenty-five-cent oyster stews, if
you're not the man; and if you are, you are to pay for the stews."

"One, two, three," said Farmer Jonathan, beginning to number those who
stood around.

"It don't matter if there are fifty of them," quickly interposed
Dionysius; "will you accept my wager or not?"

"I accept it, of course," said Farmer Jonathan.

Will, having sighted the hay-wagon, just then came running up the
street. "Please, Farmer Jonathan," said he, "mother wants you to come to
our house to dinner, and bring Gil and Dora. May I too climb up on your
hay?"

"Why, my little man, I left Gil and Dora out in the country, at my
farm," answered Farmer Jonathan.

"Oh no, you didn't. I saw th