“But you musn’t be afraid of the storm,” said Mother Brown.  “See, Bunny isn’t afraid!”

“Yes, I is afraid too!” cried the little boy, who slept in the next room.  “I is afraid, but I wasn’t goin’ to tell!”

“Well, that’s being brave—­not to show that you are afraid,” said Mother Brown.  “Come now, Sue, you be brave, like Bunny.”

“But I can’t, Mother!  I don’t want the circus to be spoiled!”

“Oh, I guess the tents are good and strong,” said Mr. Brown, who had gotten up to see what Sue was crying for.  “They won’t blow away.”

It was about eleven o’clock at night, and quite dark, except when the lightning came.  Then the loud thunder would sound, “just like circus wagons rumbling over a bridge,” as Bunny told Sue, to try and make his little sister feel less afraid.

But all Sue could talk of was the circus tents, that might be blown over by the strong wind, which was now rattling the shutters and windows of the farmhouse.  Or else the white canvas houses might be washed away by the high water.

While Mr. and Mrs. Brown sat up, trying to comfort Sue, by telling her and Bunny a fairy story, there were sounds heard in another part of the house.

“I guess that’s Grandpa Brown getting up to see if his cows and horses are all right,” said mother.  “The cows and horses are not afraid in a storm, Sue.”

“Maybe they are, but they can’t talk and tell us about it,” said Sue, who was not quite so frightened now.

Grandpa Brown could be heard speaking to some one in the hall.

“Hello, Bunker Blue,” he called, “is that you getting up?”

“Yes, Mr. Brown,” was the answer the children heard.

“And who is that with you?”

“Ben Hall.”

“What are you going to do?” Bunny Brown heard his grandpa ask.

“We’re going down to see about our circus tents,” said Bunker.  “We’re afraid they may be carried away in the storm.”

“Well, perhaps they may,” said Grandpa Brown.  “It’s a bad storm all right, but we’ll be safe and comfortable in the house.  Take a lantern with you, if you’re going out, and be careful.”

“We will,” promised Bunker.

Bunny put on his slippers and bath robe and went to the bedroom door.  It was open a little way, and out in the hall he could see Bunker Blue and Ben Hall.  The two big boys had on rubber boots and rubber coats, for it was raining hard.

“Oh, Bunker!” called Bunny.  “May I go with you?”

“What, little shaver!  Are you awake?” Bunker asked.  “You’d better get back to bed.  It’s raining cats and dogs!”

“Really?” called Sue, from her father’s lap, where she was sitting all “cuddled up.”  “Is it really raining cats and dogs?  Is it raining my dog Splash?  If it is I want to see it!”

“No, I didn’t exactly mean that,” answered Bunker with a laugh.  “I meant it was raining such big drops that they are almost as large as little baby cats and dogs.  But it is storming too hard for you two youngsters to come out.  Ben and I will see about the tents.”