Moss could not keep her promise, for
on Monday it still rained, and the little girls paddled off to school
like a pair of young ducks, enjoying every puddle they came to, since
India-rubber boots made wading a delicious possibility. They took their
dinner, and at noon regaled a crowd of comrades with an account of the
mysterious dog, who appeared to be haunting the neighborhood, as several
of the other children had seen him examining their back yards with
interest. He had begged of them, but to none had he exhibited his
accomplishments except Bab and Betty; and they were therefore much set
up, and called him "our dog" with an air. The cake transaction remained
a riddle, for Sally Folsom solemnly declared that she was playing tag in
Mamie Snow's barn at that identical time. No one had been near the old
house but the two children, and no one could throw any light upon that
singular affair.

It produced a great effect, however; for even "teacher" was interested,
and told such amazing tales of a juggler she once saw, that doughnuts
were left forgotten in dinner-baskets, and wedges of pie remained
suspended in the air for several minutes at a time, instead of vanishing
with miraculous rapidity as usual. At afternoon recess, which the girls
had first, Bab nearly dislocated every joint of her little body trying
to imitate the poodle's antics. She had practised on her bed with great
success, but the wood-shed floor was a different thing, as her knees and
elbows soon testified.

"It looked just as easy as any thing; I don't see how he did it," she
said, coming down with a bump after vainly attempting to walk on her
hands.

"My gracious, there he is this very minute!" cried Betty, who sat on a
little wood-pile near the door. There was a general rush,--and sixteen
small girls gazed out into the rain as eagerly as if to behold
Cinderella's magic coach, instead of one forlorn dog trotting by through
the mud.

"Oh, do call him in and make him dance!" cried the girls, all chirping
at once, till it sounded as if a flock of sparrows had taken possession
of the shed.

"I will call him, he knows me," and Bab scrambled up, forgetting how she
had chased the poodle and called him names two days ago.

He evidently had not forgotten, however; for, though he paused and
looked wistfully at them, he would not approach, but stood dripping in
the rain, with his frills much bedraggled, while his tasselled tail
wagged slowly, and his pink no