Part 12 (2/2)

”Ah didn't go fo' to do it, 'deed an' Ah didn't, Mammy!” said Jim, as he arose. ”Ah wuz jest leanin' ober to knock a fly often dat mule's back an' Ah slipped an' fell on him. Den he started up, an' Ah couldn't nohow git offen him!”

And this, it appeared, was how it had happened. The little colored boy was playing around the shed where the darkies emptied their baskets of cotton into a bin. There it was piled into the cart to be taken to the gin. The boy had climbed up on a pile of boxes to make himself higher, and in this position had seen a fly on the mule's back. Or at least that is what Jim said.

At any rate, whether he tried to do the mule a kindness, or whether he really intended to use the boxes as a stepping block to get up and take a ride, Jim got on the animal's back, and this so alarmed the mule that it started off, causing much excitement.

But no real harm had resulted, and no one was hurt, for the fluffy cotton was even softer to fall on than a pile of hay. Jim was taken in charge by his mother and made to help pick cotton the rest of the day.

Bunny and Sue liked it so much on the plantation, watching the cotton-pickers and occasionally pulling up a few peanuts for themselves, that I think they would have been willing to spend the rest of the winter in that part of the sunny South.

”But my business here is almost finished,” said Mr. Brown to his family one evening as they sat in Mr. Morton's pleasant home. ”We will soon go on to Florida.”

”And eat oranges!” added Sue, for she had often been thinking of that juicy fruit.

”And catch alligators!” exclaimed Bunny. The chance of at least seeing some of these scaly creatures seemed to give Bunny pleasure.

”Oh, my!” exclaimed his mother. ”Now look here!” she went on, as she thought of what might happen. ”I don't want you two tots going off by yourselves trying to catch alligators! Mind that!” and she shook a warning finger at them.

In the evening, while the older folks were talking in the sitting room and the children were playing games, Bunny heard his father say:

”There's the oil stock certificate Bunny found, Mr. Morton.”

”Oh, yes, your wife was telling us about that,” remarked the cotton planter. ”Let me see it.”

Bunny looked up in time to see his father show Mr. Morton a stiff, crinkly green and gold paper, which the little boy well remembered.

”Didn't you yet find out to whom that oil stock belongs?” asked Mrs.

Brown of her husband, while Bunny entertained Sam and Grace by telling them in a low voice how, while they were in the sleigh that day with Uncle Tad, the porter of the Pullman car had tossed the valuable paper out in a pan of dirt.

”No, so far I haven't found the owner,” Mr. Brown answered. ”I brought the certificate with me, for I thought perhaps the oil company might have been notified by the loser. But they write me that no one has yet notified them of the loss. So I'll have to hold the stock a while longer. It is quite valuable, the oil company says, and I must take good care of it.”

He put the temporary certificate back in his pocket, and Bunny and his sister, after telling about the runaway, went on playing games with Sam and Grace.

”Well,” said Mr. Brown at last, after he and Mr. Morton had looked over several business books and papers, ”I think we'll be traveling on to Florida in a few days.”

”We shall miss having you here,” Mrs. Morton said. ”I'm sure it has done the children good.”

”Yes,” agreed Mrs. Brown. ”They never before saw cotton or peanuts growing, and they have learned something.”

”I want to learn about oranges!” exclaimed Sue.

”And maybe I could grow up to be an alligator hunter,” added Bunny.

”I hope not that!” his mother exclaimed, laughing. ”And I think it is almost time for you children to go to bed.”

But just then there came a knock on the door and the colored servant, having answered it, came back to say that the plantation hands were having a sort of jubilee among themselves and had sent to know if the ”white folks” didn't want to see the fun.

<script>