“P’r’aps she will, but you needn’t begin to sneeze yet awhile.  I can sneeze for my own children, thank you, ma’am,” returned Betty, sharply, for her usually amiable spirit had been ruffled by the late occurrences.

“I didn’t sneeze!  I’ve got enough to do to talk and cry and cough for my own poor dears without bothering about yours,” cried Bab, even more ruffled than her sister.

“Then who did?  I heard a real, live sneeze just as plain as anything,” and Betty looked up to the green roof above her, as if the sound came from that direction.

A yellow-bird sat swinging and chirping on the tall lilac-bush, but no other living thing was in sight.

“Birds don’t sneeze, do they?” asked Betty, eying little Goldy suspiciously.

“You goose! of course they don’t.”

“Well, I should just like to know who is laughing and sneezing round here.  May be it is the dog,” suggested Betty, looking relieved.

“I never heard of a dog’s laughing, except Mother Hubbard’s.  This is such a queer one, may be he can, though.  I wonder where he went to?” and Bab took a patient survey down both the side paths, quite longing to see the funny poodle again.

“I know where I’m going to,” said Betty, piling the dolls into her apron with more haste than care.  “I’m going right straight home to tell Ma all about it.  I don’t like such actions, and I’m afraid to stay.”

“I aint; but I guess it is going to rain, so I shall have to go anyway,” answered Bab, taking advantage of the black clouds rolling up the sky, for she scorned to own that she was afraid of anything.

Clearing the table in a summary manner by catching up the four corners of the cloth, Bab put the rattling bundle into her apron, flung her children on the top, and pronounced herself ready to depart.  Betty lingered an instant to pick up odds and ends that might be spoilt by the rain, and when she turned from taking the red halter off the knocker, two lovely pink roses lay on the stone steps.

“Oh, Bab, just see!  Here’s the very ones we wanted.  Wasn’t it nice of the wind to blow ’em down?” she called out, picking them up and running after her sister, who had strolled moodily along, still looking about her for her sworn foe, Sally Folsom.

The flowers soothed the feelings of the little girls, because they had longed for them, and bravely resisted the temptation to climb up the trellis and help themselves, since their mother had forbidden such feats, owing to a fall Bab got trying to reach a honeysuckle from the vine which ran all over the porch.

Home they went and poured out their tale, to Mrs. Moss’s great amusement, for she saw in it only some playmate’s prank, and was not much impressed by the mysterious sneeze and laugh.

“We’ll have a grand rummage Monday, and find out what is going on over there,” was all she said.