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Page 70
Yes, Ned, the bird, heard it, took his head out from under his wing,
and laughed at the fun until he almost tumbled out of his cage. The
lively dog, Spot, heard it out in his shed, too, and whined at the door
until Jumping Jack contrived to undo the latch and let him in. The
little late chicken heard it also, hopped out of his snug basket, and
was soon enjoying himself as much as if they were all chickens and it
was a warm spring day.
Lucy heard it, too; but Scrubby had taken Lucy to bed with her, and had
her hugged up so tightly that the kind old baby couldn't get away, and
had to lie there and listen and wait.
They were having a good time in that room. The rocking-horse had been
hitched to the little wagon, and Jumping Jack was driver; Miss
Fran�aise had climbed into the wagon, and was sitting there as
gracefully as she could, trying to hold her head steady; she had the
pasteboard dog for a lap-dog, while Peg and Lyd sprawled on the
wagon-bottom, and Minx stood upon the horse's back like a circus-rider.
And so they went tearing around the room in fine style, Spot racing
with them and wagging his tail till it looked like a fan. Ned fairly
shouted in his cage, and the chicken jumped on a chair and tried his
best to crow.
After a while, Spot grabbed up a piece of paper from one corner, and
began to worry it. The fine Fran�aise saw that and tumbled out of the
wagon in a minute, as if she were only a very quick-tempered little
girl. She snatched the paper away from Spot and snapped out: "You
sha'n't spoil that! It's Scrubby's letter!"
The horse had stopped now, Jumping Jack jerked himself up to the
astonished dog, and said, very severely: "Spot, aint you ashamed to
worry anything that belongs to our Scrubby? I'll put you out if there's
any more of it."
"It's too bad, so it is," said Peg.
Lyd began to cry with her one eye, while Ned stopped laughing and went
to scolding; the chicken put his claw before his face, as if ashamed of
such a dog, and even the horse shook his head.
Poor Spot was under a cloud.
"I didn't know it was anything Scrubby cared for, and I don't believe
it is, either," he snapped.
"I saw Scrubby write it," said Minx, "and she stuck the pencil in my
ear when she'd finished."
"She was sitting on us when she wrote it," said Peg and Lyd together.
"Yes, and she held me on her lap and read it to me when it was done,"
put in Fran�aise.
"Of course it's her letter," spoke up the rocking-horse. "Don't you
remember, Fran, she hitched it to my bridle and told you to ride right
off and give it to old Kriss when he came around?"
"You're a nice crowd!" growled Spot. "Every one of you knew all about
this, and left it kicking around on the floor! You _are_ a nice crowd!
I'll take charge of it myself now, and see that old Kriss gets it. He
can't read it, of course. Nobody could read that; but it shows how much
_you_ all think of Scrubby."
Spot had the best of it now; but the French lady spoke up in a way that
put the others in good spirits right off, and made honest Spot feel as
if he had been sat down upon.
"Perhaps some people can read, if you cant," she said, "_I_ can read
that letter for you, and for old Kriss too, if he wants me to."
She could not read a word, but she opened out the scribbled sheet in
fine style, and just repeated what she had heard Scrubby say. And this
is what Scrubby tried to put in the letter:
OLE KRISS: I want a tree, please, ole Kriss, _right away_. And lots
of pitty things. And glass s'ippers for mamma. And moss under it,
and animals, jess like I used to have. And a pink coat for papa,
and not wait for some time, cos that's a noosance.
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