trying their best not to laugh. At last she spoke:--

"I got frightened yesterday. I was not very brave; now was I? Hark! The
people in the mine are blasting rocks again, but we won't run away, will
we?"

They laughed, and she tried to laugh, too. Then she called the classes
into the floor; and no more did she ever say to the scholars about the
earthquake. She helped Nate in his arithmetic, and he treated her like a
queen. He was coming to Aunt Vi's room that evening to show his
knee-buckles and cocked hat and find out just what he was to do on the
stage.

Kyzie wanted to see the cocked hat and felt interested in her own white
cap which Mrs. McQuilken was making. It was a good thing for Katharine
that she had "Jimmy's play" to think of just now. It helped her through
that long forenoon. After this the forenoons did not drag; school went
on as usual, and Kyzie was glad she had had the courage to go back and
"live down" her foolish behavior.

When they met in Aunt Vi's room that evening it was decided not to have
"Jimmy's play" on the tailings, for that was a place free to all. People
would not buy tickets for an entertainment out of doors.

"My tent is the thing," said Uncle James, and so they all thought It
was a large white one, and the children agreed to decorate it with
evergreens. It would hold all the people who were likely to come and
many more.

During the week Uncle James set up the tent not far from the hotel and
in one corner of it built a staging. He did not mind taking trouble for
his beloved namesake, James Sanford Dunlee. The stage was made to look
like a room in an old-fashioned house. It had a make-believe door and
window and a make-believe fireplace with andirons and wood and shovel
and tongs. There was a rag rug on the floor, and on the three-legged
stand stood the hour-glass with candles in iron candlesticks. The
fiddle-backed chairs were there and two _hard_ "easy-chairs" and an old
wooden "settle." Lucy and Bab said it looked "like somebody's house,"
and they wanted to go and live in it.

On the Saturday afternoon appointed the play had been well learned by
the four actors. Everything being ready, this cosy little sitting-room
was now shut off from view by a calico curtain which was stretched
across the stage by long strings run through brass rings.

The play would begin at half-past two. Jimmy was dressed neatly in his
very best clothes. He had a roll of paper and a pencil in one of his
pockets and during the play he meant to add up the number of people
present and find out how much money had been taken.

"But Jimmy-boy, it won't be very much," said Edith. "This is an empty
town, and so queer too. Something may happen at the last minute that
will spoil the whole thing."

She was right. Something did happen which no one could have foreseen.
For an "empty" town Castle Cliff was famous for events.

As Jimmy left the hotel just after luncheon he overtook Nate Pollard
and Joe Rolfe standing near a big sand bank, talking together earnestly.

"Come on, Jimmum," said Nate; "we've got a spade for you. We're going to
dig a cave in the side of this bank."

"What's the use of a cave?"

"Why, for one thing, we can run into it in time of an earthquake."

"That's so," said Jimmy. "Or we could stay in and be cave-dwellers."

But as he took up the spade he chanced to look down at his new clothes.
He had spoiled one nice suit already and had promised his mother he
would be more careful of this one.

"Wait till I put on my old clothes, will you?"

Nate laughed and snapped his fingers. "We're in a hurry. I've got to be
in the tent in half an hour. Go along, you little dude! We'll dig the
cave without you."

The laugh cut Jimmy to the heart. And he had been learning to like Nate
so well. A dude? Not he! Besides, what harm would dry sand do? It's
"clean dirt."

Then all in a minute he thought of that wild journey on the roof. It had
made a deeper impression upon him than any other event of his life.

"Poh! Am I going to dig dirt in my best clothes just because Nate
Pollard laughs at me? I don't 'take stumps' any more; there's no sense
in it, so there!"

And off he started, afraid to linger lest he should fall into
temptation. Jimmy might be heedless, no doubt he often was; but when he
really stopped to think, he always respected his mother's wishes and
always kept his word to her.

This was the trait in Jimmy which marked him off as a highly bred
little fellow. For let me tell you, boys, respect for your elders is the
first point of high breeding all the world over.

Jimmy sauntered on slowly toward the door of the tent. There were a
great many benches inside, but it was not time yet for the audience to
arrive. Uncle James and Katharine and Edith were on the stage, and Aunt
Vi was adding a few touches to Edith's dress.

"O dear," said Grandmamma Graymouse, "I hope I shan't forget my part.
Tell me, Uncle James, do I look old enough?"

"You look too old to be alive," he answered; "fifty years older than I
do, certainly! Mrs. Mehitable Whalen, are you my wife or my very great
grandmamma?"

"But where's Nate Pollard?" Aunt Vi asked. "I told him to come early to
rehearse."

"He said he'd be here in half an hour," said Jimmy. "He's off playing."

"I hope I shall not have to punish my young grandson," said Uncle James,
solemnly, as he began to peel a sycamore switch.

Uncle James's name was now "Ichabod Whalen," and he and "Mehitable
Whalen," his wife, were such droll objects in their old-fashioned
clothes that they could not look at each other without laughing.

Their absent grandson, "Ezekiel Whalen" (or Nate Pollard), was a fine
specimen of a boy of ancient times, and Aunt Vi had been much pleased
with the way in which he acted his part. But where was he? Aunt Vi and
the grandparents grew impatient. It was now half-past two; people were
flocking into the tent; but the curtain could not rise, for nothing was
yet to be seen of young Master "Ezekiel Whalen" and his small clothes
and his cocked hat. The house was pretty well filled; really there were
far more people than had been expected, Jimmy, with pencil and paper in
hand, was figuring up the grown people and children, and multiplying
these numbers by twenty-five and by fifteen. When he found that the sum
amounted to nearly nine dollars he almost whistled for joy.

But all this while the audience was waiting. People looked around in
surprise; the Dunlee family grew more and more anxious. Aunt Lucy
pinched Bab and Bab pinched Aunt Lucy.

Suddenly there were loud voices at the entrance of the tent. The tent
curtain was pushed aside violently, and Mr. Templeton and Mr. Rolfe
rushed in exclaiming:--

"Two boys lost! All hands to the rescue!"

The people were on their feet in a moment and there was a grand rush
for the outside. The panic, so it was said afterward, was about equal to
"the little schoolma'am's earthquake."

XIV

JIMMY'S GOOD LUCK

"It's the Pollard and Rolfe boys," explained Mr. Templeton.

"Ho! I know where _they_ are!" cried Jimmy, "They're all right. They're
only digging a cave in the side of a sand-bank."

"Show us where! Run as fast as you can!" exclaimed Mr. Rolfe and Mr.
Pollard. Mr. Pollard had been hunting for the last half-hour. He knew
Nate was deeply interested in "Jimmy's play" and would not have kept
away from the tent unless something unusual had happened.

Jimmy ran, followed by several men who could not possibly keep up with
him. But when they all reached the sand-bank, where were the
"cave-dwellers"? They had burrowed in the sand till completely out of
sight!

"Hello! Where are you"? screamed Jimmy.

There was no answer. In enlarging the cave they had loosened the very
dry earth, and thus caused the roof over their heads to fall in upon
them, actually burying them as far as their arm-pits! They tried to
scream, but their muffled voices could not be heard. The "cave" looked
like a great pile of sand and nothing more. Nobody would have dreamed
that there was any one inside it if it had not been for Jimmy's story.

"Courage, boys, we're after you, we'll soon have you out!" said the men
cheerily; though how could they tell whether the boys heard or not?
Indeed, how did they know the boys were still alive?

Two men went for shovels. The other men, not waiting for them to come
back thrust their arms into the bank and scooped out the sand with
their hands. The sand was loose and they worked very fast. Before the
shovels arrived a moan was heard. At any rate one of the boys was alive.
And before long they had unearthed both the young prisoners and dragged
them out of the cave.

Not a minute too soon, Joe gasped for breath and looked wildly about;
but Nate lay perfectly still; it could hardly be seen at first that he
breathed. His father and mother, the doctor and plenty of other people
were ready and eager to help; but it was some time before he showed
signs of life. When at last he opened his eyes the joy of his parents
was something touching to witness.

Jimmy, who had been standing about with the other children, watching and
waiting, caught his mother by the sleeve and whispered:--

"I should have been in there too, mamma, if it hadn't been for you!"

"What do you mean, my son? In that cave? I never knew the boys were
trying to make a cave. I did not forbid your digging in the sand, did
I?"

"No, mamma; but I knew you wouldn't want me to do it in these
clothes--after all my actions! And I had promised to be more careful."

Mrs. Dunlee smiled, but there were tears in her eyes.

"How glad I am that my little boy respected his mother's wishes," said
she, stooping to kiss his earnest face.

She dared not think what might have happened if he had disregarded her
wishes!

It was a time of rejoicing. Mr. Templeton ordered out the brass band
and the Hindoo tam tam. The horse Thistleblow seemed to think he must be
wanted too, and came and danced in circles before the groups of happy
people.

"I could believe I was in some foreign country," said Mrs. McQuilken,
smiling under her East Indian puggaree, as she had not been seen to
smile before, and dropping a kiss on the cheek of her favorite Edith.

After dinner the Dunlees met in Aunt Vi's room, and Aunt Vi observed
that Mrs. Dunlee kept Jimmy close by her side, looking at him in the way
mothers look at good little sons, her eyes shining with happy love and
pride.

They were talking over "Jimmy's play," which had not been played. The
money must all be given back to the people who had sat and looked so
long at that calico curtain.

"We'll try 'Granny's Quilting' again next Saturday," said Aunt Vi.

They did try it again. There were no caves to dig this time, and young
Master "Ezekiel Whalen" was on the stage promptly at half-past one,
eager to show his grandparents that he was a boy to be relied upon after
all. The play was a remarkable success. All the "summer boarders and
campers" came to it, and everybody said:--

"Oh, do give us some more entertainments, Mrs. Sanford! Let us have one
every Saturday."

Aunt Vi, being the kindest soul in the world, promised to do what she
could. She gave the play of the "Pied Piper of Hamelin," with children
for rats; and Eddo was dressed as a mouse, and squealed so perfectly
that Edith's cat could hardly be restrained from rushing headlong upon
the stage.

Later there were tableaux. Edith wore red, white, and blue and was the
Goddess of Liberty. Jimmy was a cowboy with cartridge-belt and pistols.
Lucy and Barbara were Night and Morning, with stars on their heads. Mr.
Sanford was Uncle Jonathan. Mr. Hale was an Indian chief.

Jimmy's debts were more than paid, and a happier boy was not to be found
in the state of California.

After this there were plenty of free entertainments on the tailings. At
one of these, when the audience was watching a flight of rockets,
Katharine heard two women not far away talking together. One of them
asked:--

"Where's that little Dunlee girl, the one that keeps the play-school?"

"Over there in the corner," replied the other, "She hasn't any hat on.
She's sitting beside the girl with a cat in her lap."

"Oh, is that the one? So young as that? Well, she's a good girl, yes,
she is. I guess she _is_ a good girl," said the first speaker heartily.
"My little Henry thinks there's nothing like her. He never learned much
of anything till he went to that play-school. He never behaved so well
as he does now, never gave me so little trouble at home. She's a _good_
girl."

A world of comfort fell on Kyzie. Young as she was and full of faults,
she had really done a wee bit of good.

"And they didn't say a word about my jumping out of the window," thought
she, with deep satisfaction. "Wait till I grow up, just wait till I grow
up, and as true as I live I'll be something and do something in this
world!"

She did not say this aloud, you may be sure; but there was a look on her
face of high resolve.

Uncle James had often said to Aunt Vi:--

"Our Katharine is very much in earnest. I know you agree with me that
"little Prudy's" eldest daughter is a golden girl!"

The "play-school" closed a few days later, and it was Henry Small who
received the medal for good spelling. He wasn't so much of a cry-baby
nowadays and the boys had stopped calling him "Chicken Little."

The Dunlee party went home the last week in August, declaring they had
had delightful times at Castle Cliff.

"Only I never went down that mine in a bucket," said Lucy. "How could I
when the men were blowing up rocks just like an earthquake?"

"And I wanted to wait till they found that vein," said Jimmy.

A few days before they left, Uncle James went hunting and shot a deer. I
wish there were space to tell of the barbecue to which all the
neighbors were invited a little later.

As it is, my young readers are not likely to hear any more of the
adventures of the "bonnie Dunlees," either at home or abroad.

But during their stay in the mountains that summer Lucy begged Aunt Vi
to write some stories, with the little friends, Bab and Lucy, for the
heroines.

"Some 'once-upon-a-time stories,' Auntie Vi. Make believe we two girls
go all about among the fairies, just as Alice did in Wonderland; only
there are two of us together, and we shall have a better time!"

"Oh, fie! How could I take real live little girls into the kingdom of
the elves and gnomes and pixies? I shouldn't know how!"

But she was so obliging as to try. The week before they left for home
she had completed a book of "once-upon-a-time stories," which she read
aloud to all the children as they clustered around her in the
"air-castle." She called it "Lucy in Fairyland," though she meant Bab
just as much as Lucy. If the little public would like to see this book
it may be offered them by and by; together with the comments which were
made upon each story by the whole Dunlee family,--Jimmy, wee Lucy, and
all.

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY SERIES
Specimen illustration from "Sister Susie"]

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY SERIES
Specimen illustration from "Dotty Dimple"]

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY SERIES
Specimen illustration from "Cousin Grace"]

[Illustration: LITTLE PRUDY'S CHILDREN SERIES
Specimen illustration from "Wee Lucy's Secret"]