Back they rushed, but only to meet a new scare, which made them both cry “Ow!” and fly into the porch for refuge.

A strange dog was sitting calmly among the ruins of the feast, licking his lips after basely eating up the last poor bits of bun when he had bolted the cake, basket and all.

“Oh, the horrid thing!” cried Bab, longing to give battle but afraid, for the dog was a peculiar as well as a dishonest animal.

“He looks like our China poodle, doesn’t he?” whispered Betty, making herself as small as possible behind her more valiant sister.

He certainly did; for, though much dirtier than the well-washed China dog, this live one had the same tassel at the end of his tail, ruffles of hair round his ankles, and a body shaven behind and curly before.  His eyes, however, were yellow, instead of glassy black, like the other’s, his red nose worked as he cocked it up, as if smelling for more cakes in the most impudent manner, and never during the three years he had stood on the parlor mantel-piece had the China poodle done the surprising feats with which this mysterious dog now proceeded to astonish the little girls almost out of their wits.

First he sat up, put his fore-paws together, and begged prettily; then he suddenly flung his hind legs into the air, and walked about with great ease.  Hardly had they recovered from this shock when the hind legs came down, the fore legs went up, and he paraded in a soldierly manner to and fro, like a sentinel on guard.  But the crowning performance was when he took his tail in his mouth and waltzed down the walk, over the prostrate dolls, to the gate and back again, barely escaping a general upset of the ravaged table.

Bab and Betty could only hold each other tight and squeal with delight, for never had they seen anything so funny; but when the gymnastics ended, and the dizzy dog came and stood on the step before them barking loudly, with that pink nose of his sniffing at their feet and his queer eyes fixed sharply upon them, their amusement turned to fear again, and they dared not stir.

“Whish, go away!” commanded Bab.

“Scat!” meekly quavered Betty.

To their great relief the poodle gave several more inquiring barks, and then vanished as suddenly as he appeared.  With one impulse the children ran to see what became of him, and after a brisk scamper through the orchard saw the tasseled tail disappear under the fence at the far end.

“Where do you s’pose he came from?” asked Betty, stopping to rest on a big stone.

“I’d like to know where he’s gone, too, and give him a good beating, old thief,” scolded Bab, remembering their wrongs.

“Oh dear, yes!  I hope the cake burnt him dreadfully if he did eat it,” groaned Betty, sadly remembering the dozen good raisins she chopped up, and the “lots of ’lasses” Ma put into the dear lost loaf.

“The party’s all spoilt, so we may as well go home,” and Bab mournfully led the way back.