now awake and seemed ready for a game of bo-peep behind their
mammas. Bab enjoyed their funny little frisks so much that she tied
the wearisome strap to a post and crept under the rope to pet the tiny
mouse-colored one who came and talked to her with baby whinneys and
confiding glances of its soft, dark eyes.

Oh, luckless Bab! why did you turn your back? Oh, too accomplished
Sancho! why did you neatly untie that knot and trot away to confer
with the disreputable bull-dog who stood in the entrance beckoning
with friendly wavings of an abbreviated tail? Oh, much afflicted Ben!
why did you delay till it was too late to save your pet from the
rough man who set his foot upon the trailing strap and led poor Sanch
quickly out of sight among the crowd.

"It _was_ Bascum, but he didn't know anything. Why, where's Sanch?"
said Ben, returning.

A breathless voice made Bab turn to see Ben looking about him with as
much alarm in his hot face as if the dog had been a two years' child.

"I tied him--he's here somewhere--with the ponies," stammered Bab, in
sudden dismay, for no sign of a dog appeared as her eyes roved wildly
to and fro.

Ben whistled, called and searched in vain, till one of the lounging
men said, lazily:

"If you are looking after the big poodle you'd better go outside; I
saw him trotting off with another dog."

Away rushed Ben, with Bab following, regardless of the rain, for both
felt that a great misfortune had befallen them. But, long before this,
Sancho had vanished, and no one minded his indignant howls as he was
driven off in a covered cart.

"If he is lost I'll never forgive you; never, never, never!" and Ben
found it impossible to resist giving Bab several hard shakes which
made her yellow braids fly up and down like pump handles.

"I'm dreadful sorry. He'll come back--you said he always did," pleaded
Bab, quite crushed by her own afflictions, and rather scared to see
Ben look so fierce, for he seldom lost his temper or was rough with
the little girls.

"If he doesn't come back, don't you speak to me for a year. Now, I'm
going home." And, feeling that words were powerless to express his
emotions, Ben walked away, looking as grim as a small boy could.

A more unhappy little lass is seldom to be found than Bab was, as she
pattered after him, splashing recklessly through the puddles, and
getting as wet and muddy as possible, as a sort of penance for her
sins. For a mile or two she trudged stoutly a