"Oh, Peter isn't a _baby_, and he isn't my brother," said George with another laugh. "He's only a----"

But before he could say what Peter was a loud crow sounded from inside the basket which George held up.

"c.o.c.k-a-doodle-doo!" sounded all through the hall, and Bunny, Sue, and the others who were getting ready for their parts in the dress rehearsal of the play, laughed. Mr. Treadwell looked surprised.

"Why--why--it's a rooster!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, Peter is my pet bantam rooster," said George. "I brought him with me because I thought he could crow in the barnyard scene, and make it more natural like."

"Well, a crowing rooster would be a good performer to have in a barnyard scene on a stage," agreed Mr. Treadwell. "But the only thing about it is that we couldn't be sure that he would crow at the right time. He might crow when Lucile was singing, or when Bunny Brown was doing some of his tricks, or when Sue was making believe run away from me when I'm dressed up like a tramp."

"Yes," said George, "that's so. Peter crows a lot, and you can't tell when he's going to do it. But, Mr. Treadwell, he always crows when he flaps his wings, and if somebody could hold his wings so they couldn't flap then he couldn't crow. I wish we could have him in the play!"

"Well, we might try him, anyhow," said Mr. Treadwell, with a laugh.

"Though I haven't anybody I could let stand near and hold the rooster's wings so he wouldn't crow."

"I could do that," offered George. "My rooster likes me."

"Yes, I suppose he does," agreed the stage manager. "But you have to recite a piece in the play, George, and your rooster might start to crow when you were reciting."

"That would make me laugh," said George, with a smile, "and I couldn't pucker up my mouth to whistle, and I have to do that in my piece."

"Then I guess we had better not have the rooster in the play," said Mr.

Treadwell. "But since you have brought him we'll let him stay for the practice, and we'll see how he behaves. He certainly would be good in the barnyard scene, and make it quite natural, but I'm afraid he'll crow at the wrong time."

"And did you really think George had a little baby brother in the basket?" asked Sue, as the rooster was being shut up again.

"Yes, I really did," said Mr. Treadwell. "But now everybody get ready!

The rehearsal will begin in a minute."

It took a little while for all the boys and girls to find their right places. Their mothers or big sisters were, in most cases, on hand ready to help them, to see that this little girl's dress was b.u.t.toned up the back, that her hair ribbon was prettily tied and that the little boys had their hair combed as it ought to be.

But at last everything was finished, and the stage was set for the first scene, that of the meadow. Everything was to go on just as if it was the real play--the scenery, the lights, the curtain being raised and lowered, and everything.

Out in front were the mothers, the big sisters, with, here and there, an occasional father of the children who were taking part. This was the audience. Of course this audience didn't pay anything, but Bunny, Sue, and the others who were getting up the play, hoped a large throng would come Christmas afternoon, when the real play would be given.

I must not tell you, here, how the rehearsal went, for it was so like the play that if I set down all that took place I wouldn't have anything left to tell you about the main performance. All I will say is that after the meadow scene came the one in the barnyard.

"Now if the Peter rooster will crow right this will be a good scene,"

said Mr. Treadwell.

Well, the scene was all right--at least at first. Bunny and Sue did their parts well, and so did the other children. The people sitting in front of the footlights--which glowed as brightly as they would in the real performance--said the show was going on finely. And Peter crowed just at the right time, too, without any one telling him to.

"That's great!" said Mr. Treadwell. "I think he can be in the play after all, George. It helps out the barnyard scene."

George felt quite proud of his bantam rooster, and Bunny and Sue were glad the feathered actor was in their show. But alas! Toward the end of the barnyard scene, when Lucile was singing a sad little song, Peter began to crow. He crowed and he crowed and he crowed, until Lucile could hardly be heard, and everybody laughed instead of sitting quietly.

"I'll go and hold his wings," offered George. But even that didn't quiet Peter. He kept on crowing louder than ever.

"I know what I'll do," said Bunny Brown. "I'll put Peter in his basket and carry him down to the cellar. That'll be dark, and he'll think it's night and he'll stop crowing."

"That will be just the thing!" said Mr. Treadwell.

So as Bunny Brown didn't have anything to do just then in the barnyard scene, he put Peter in the basket and carried the bantam rooster downstairs.

"What have you got there?" asked Mr. Raymond, the hardware man, as he saw Bunny with the basket.

The little boy told.

"Yes, put him down in the cellar," said Mr. Raymond. "That ought to keep him quiet. I'll turn on the electric lights down there for you, so you can see. Otherwise you might tumble downstairs in the dark."

Bunny had been down in the hardware store cellar before, once when his father was looking at a certain piece of iron for a boat, the iron being stowed away down in the bas.e.m.e.nt, and at other times, when he himself wanted to buy some odds or ends from the hardware man to make some toy.

So Bunny knew his way down into the cellar.

"I'll come and get you after the play," said Bunny to Peter, as he set the basket, with the rooster in it, on a big box.

Peter didn't answer. He didn't even crow. I guess he didn't like the dark. He might have thought it was night, when the electric lights were turned out after Bunny had gone upstairs, and Peter may have gone to roost.

Bunny tramped upstairs and went on with his parts in the play.

Everything went along nicely, and every one said the last act, the one in the orchard, was fine. Bunny and Sue did well, as did Lucile, Mart and the others.

"I wish we could think of some way so my rooster would only crow at the right time," said George, when talking to Bunny, after the rehearsal was over.

Bunny Brown wished so, too, for he wanted the little play to be as real as it could, so the people who saw it would be glad they had come to pay money to help the Home for the Blind.

Mr. Clayton sent word from the Home that he would surely be on hand at the performance Christmas afternoon. He also said he had not yet received any word from the other uncle and aunt of the two vaudeville children.

"Oh, dear," sighed Lucile on Christmas eve, as she and her brother sat in the Brown home, "I do hope we can find Uncle Simon and Aunt Sallie!"

"So do I hope you do," said Sue. "But, oh, won't we have fun to-morrow at the play! And to-morrow is Christmas. I'm going to hang up my stocking. Are you going to hang up your stocking?" she asked Mart and Lucile.

"Well, I don't know," answered the boy slowly. "I guess, seeing that we haven't heard from Uncle Simon and Aunt Sallie yet, that maybe it wouldn't be any use for us to hang up our stockings, Sue."

"Oh, I think it would," said Mrs. Brown, with a funny little smile. "You tell Mart and Lucile to hang them up, Sue. I don't believe Santa Claus will forget them."

"There!" cried Sue. "You must do as mother says. Come on, Bunny!" she added. "Let's get our stockings ready, and we'll go to bed early.

Christmas will come sooner then. Why, where's Bunny?" she asked, as she looked out in the kitchen where she had last seen her brother. "Bunny!"

she called. "Come on, hang up our stockings!"

But Bunny Brown did not answer.

"Bunny isn't here!" said Sue. "Where is Bunny?"

CHAPTER XXII

ACT I