of their wings," added Rose, as a shrill whistle came up the avenue
accompanied by the clatter of hoofs.

"It is the circus!" cried Phebe gaily as they both recalled the red
cart and the charge of the clan.

There was only one boy now, alas, but he made noise enough for
half a dozen, and before Rose could run to the door, Jamie came
bouncing in with a "shining morning face," a bat over his shoulder,
a red and white jockey cap on his head, one pocket bulging with a
big ball, the other overflowing with cookies, and his mouth full of
the apple he was just finishing off in hot haste.

"Morning! I just looked in to make sure you'd really come and see
that you were all right," he observed, saluting with bat and doffing
the gay cap with one effective twitch.

"Good morning, dear. Yes, we really are here, and getting to rights
as fast as possible. But it seems to me you are rather gorgeous,
Jamie. What do you belong to a fire company or a jockey club?"
asked Rose, turning up the once chubby face, which now was
getting brown and square about the chin.

"No, ma'am! Why, don't you know? I'm captain of the Base Ball
Star Club. Look at that, will you?" And, as if the fact were one of
national importance, Jamie flung open his jacket to display upon
his proudly swelling chest an heart-shaped red flannel shield
decorated with a white cotton star the size of a tea plate.

"Superb! I've been away so long I forgot there was such a game.