Larger Font   Reset Font Size   Smaller Font  

Bobby in Search of a Birthday

Edith Lavell



  Produced by Emmy and the Online Distributed ProofreadingTeam at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced fromimages generously made available by The Internet Archive)

  [Transcriber's Note: Bold text is surrounded by =equal signs=and italic text is surrounded by _underscores_.]

  BOBBY IN SEARCH OF A BIRTHDAY

  BY

  LEBBEUS MITCHELL

  COVER AND ILLUSTRATIONSBY JOSEPH PIERRE NUYTTENS

  CHICAGO P. F. VOLLAND & CO. 1916

  Copyright 1916 P. F. VOLLAND & CO. CHICAGO, U. S. A.

  All rights reserved

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER I Once When Bobby Wasn't Left Behind.

  CHAPTER II The Boy With Eight Birthdays.

  CHAPTER III Hunting for the Thing You Mustn't Think About.

  CHAPTER IV The Lady Who Likes Little Boys.

  CHAPTER V The Man With the Pocketful of Quarters Reappears.

  CHAPTER VI The Borrowed Birthday.

  CHAPTER VII "All the Perquisites Pertaining Thereto."

  CHAPTER VIII "Fathers and Mothers and Things Like That."

  BOBBY IN SEARCH OF A BIRTHDAY

  CHAPTER I

  ONCE WHEN BOBBY WASN'T LEFT BEHIND

  Bobby North went out into the front yard by the iron gate between thetwo tall stone columns to watch the horses and wagons and 'mobilestraveling up and down that invitingly dusty and mysterious road that hewas forbidden ever to set foot upon.

  He knew he could crawl under the gate, he was so little, and raiseclouds of dust by dragging his feet in the road as two small boys didwho passed by and stopped to gaze in wonder at Bobby and at the bigbrick house set back in the yard among some trees. He wondered if theSupe'tendent would _really_ send him to bed without anything to eat ifhe disobeyed her just this once and slipped under the gate, out intothe road for as many as forty or a dozen minutes.

  He was afraid she _really_ might, and was standing with face pressedagainst the iron bars of the gate when a man drove up back of him witha buggy jammed as full as it would hold of boys and girls from the Home.

  "Bobby North!" cried the sharp, irritated voice of the Supe'tendent."How many times must I tell you to keep away from that gate!"

  He turned clear around and saw on the porch the tall, thin figure ofthe Supe'tendent. The man in the buggy jumped out to open the gate.Bobby stepped back from the graveled road, for he knew by experiencethat it is always safer, if you are a small boy, to keep out of the wayof grown-up folks--_then_ they can't scold you for doing something youmustn't, or not doing something you should, even when you had never_thought_ of doing either one.

  He looked up longingly at the buggy load of boys and girls who weregoing to explore the mysteries of that delightfully dusty road and notcoming back for maybe forty or a dozen days. Bobby was used to beingleft behind and stepped further away, but without taking his lonelyeyes off those more fortunate children.

  When the man had opened the gate, he stopped and looked at Bobby andthen at the Supe'tendent on the porch. He came directly towards Bobbyas he kept backing away, caught him up in his arms and tossed him intothe lap of the lady who sat on the front seat!

  "You'd like a whole week in the country, too, wouldn't you?" said theman.

  "Yes'm."

  Bobby was so surprised that that was all he could think of to say.

  "I'm afraid he will be too much trouble for you," called theSupe'tendent. "He's so young."

  Bobby steeled his heart and started to climb down from the lady's lap,but his lower lip twitched in spite of his effort to keep it steady.

  "Nonsense!" exclaimed the man, as he led the horses out into theroad, shut the gate, jumped into the seat by the woman and droveoff in a cloud of dust. He didn't seem to be at all afraid of themuch-to-be-feared Supe'tendent!

  Bobby was so glad to be riding away from the Home that he thought healmost _liked_ the Supe'tendent this once, and looked back and wavedgood-bye to her. She stood there stiff and angry and did not reply.

  Thus it came about that Bobby North had his first trip away from theHome that he could remember. The week at Mr. and Mrs. Robert Eller'sin the country was a glorious time--days to be remembered by all thered letters on the playing blocks that were sometimes given him on aSunday to keep him quiet.

  Besides the calves and little pigs, the clover field and the daisies inthe yard, there was the two-months' old puppy that Mr. Eller's littleboy told him was a St. Bernard. It soon became the chief delight ofthis puppy to chase Bobby about the yard and trip him and then, when hefell headlong, to lick his hands and face affectionately with a moist,red tongue. The man never once objected to his playing with the awkwardand much-to-be-desired puppy all day long.

  He was an answer to ardent and secret prayer, this Man Who Lets YouPlay with the Puppy, and Bobby looked up to him with a great deal ofawe; his words carried the weight of authority. He seemed to understandwhat small boys want, to know that the greatest of all treasures, areal live puppy, is good for them.

  Thus the happy days in the country passed like magic.