The Story of a Calico Clown Part 6

"Good boys!" said the Italian with a smile, and he played another tune for them. And then it was time for him to travel on.

"Come along, Jacko!" he called to his monkey, and then he fastened the rope back on his monkey's collar and made him jump up on the organ.

Then the two of them went down the street.

"Oh, there he goes!" thought the poor Calico Clown, still up in the tree. "Oh, he's going to leave me here! Oh, what shall I do?"

Well might he ask that. What could he do? How was he going to get down?

Herbert and Sidney, standing at the gate, saw the music man turn around the corner of the street.

"Now we'll go back and play with my Monkey and your Clown," said Herbert. "We'll practice for the circus we're going to have."

"That'll be fun!" laughed Sidney.

But when the two boys went back to the porch--well, you know, as well as I, what happened. They saw the Monkey on a Stick, but no Clown!

"Why--why, where is he?" asked Sidney, looking around. "Did you take him, Herb? Did you take my Calico Clown?"

"No, of course not," answered Herbert. "They were both here when we went to get our bread and jam. Oh, Sid! I know what happened!" he suddenly exclaimed.

"What?" asked his brother.

"The hand-organ monkey took your Clown away with him!" went on Herbert.

At first Sidney thought that this might be so, but, after thinking over the matter for a moment, he shook his head and answered:

"No, the live monkey didn't take my Clown. Don't you remember? He came up here with his cap in his hand to get our pennies. Then, when he went away, he was sitting on top of the organ and he had his cap off and so did the music man, and they didn't either of them have my Clown."

"Yes, I guess that's right," Herbert said. "But he's gone."

"We've got to find my Clown," said Sidney. "I want him back, and we can't have a circus without him. We've GOT to find him."

"Yes, we have," agreed Herbert. "Maybe Carlo, the dog, came and carried him away."

"Maybe," said Sidney. They blamed lots of things on poor Carlo, and sometimes he did do tricks. But this was not one of those times. So the two boys began searching for the Calico Clown.

As for that jolly chap himself he was still up in the tree. And he was not so very jolly just then, either. He did not once think of asking his pig riddle.

"I wonder if I can wiggle down?" he asked himself. "There is no one to see me now, and I can move about. I'm going to try to get down."

He wiggled and he woggled, whatever that is, and managed to get one leg over the limb, so both were on the same side. The Clown was just going to try to swing to the next lowest branch, as he had seen the live monkey do, when, all of a sudden, he slipped and fell.

"Oh, dear! Another accident! This is going to be a bad one--worse than the giant's swing!" he cried.

Down, down, down, he fell. What was going to happen?

Now, just about this time, it chanced that a man was pa.s.sing under the tree. This man had on a large, loose coat with large pockets on the sides, and he was so used to carrying things in his pockets that each nearly always stood wide open, like a hungry mouth, waiting for some one to fill it.

And, as luck would have it, the man came under the tree just as the Calico Clown slipped and fell. And so, instead of falling to the ground, the Clown fell into one of the wide open side pockets of the man's coat. And the man never knew about it--at least for a time.

"Oh, my goodness me, what a narrow escape!" exclaimed the Clown as he landed safely in the soft pocket. "This is better than falling on the hard ground. But I wonder what will happen to me now."

And well might he ask that, for the man, not knowing the Clown was in his pocket, hurried on down town to his office.

CHAPTER VI

IN THE OFFICE

The Man, into whose pocket the Calico Clown had fallen from the tree, hurried along the street, not knowing a thing of what had happened. He was anxious to get to his office to look after his business, for he was a very busy Man. He kept other folks busy, too--clerks and office boy and a girl to write letters on the typewriter.

Now, as it happened, the Man was a little late that morning, and when he reached his office he was in such haste that he did not take time to do anything before he sat down in his big chair to look over his mail.

"Please write some letters for me on the typewriter," he said to Miss Jones, who worked the machine.

Miss Jones sat down and became very busy. The Man told her what to write and she banged away on the machine. Every once in a while she would look at the Man when he paused to think of something else to say. And once, as she did this, a queer look came over the face of Miss Jones. Then she smiled and next she burst right out into a loud laugh.

And the funny part of it was that just then the Man was telling her to put in a letter something like this:

"I am very, very sorry to tell you that I can not do as you want me to."

And, just as he said the word "sorry," Miss Jones laughed her very hardest.

"Eh! What's the matter? What is so very funny about my saying I am sorry?" asked the Man. The girl typewriter and the office boy called him "the Boss" behind his back, and they liked him very much, for he was kind and good to them.

"Oh, dear! I MUST laugh!" said Miss Jones.

Miss Jones pointed to something sticking out of his side coat pocket.

The Man put his hand there and pulled out--the Calico Clown!

You should have seen the strange look come over the Man's face. Then he laughed as hard as Miss Jones, and the office boy in the next room, hearing them, laughed also.

"Well, how in the world did that Calico Clown come to be in my pocket?" exclaimed the man. He took the toy out, turned it over and looked at it from all sides. As he did so he happened to punch the Clown in the chest, and of course the Clown banged his cymbals together, as he had been taught to do in the workshop of Santa Claus, where he had been made.

And as the cymbals tinkled and clanged the typewriter girl laughed harder than ever. Then the man happened to pull one of the strings, and the Clown kicked up his legs. The office boy was looking into the room just then, and, seeing this antic of the jolly red and yellow chap, the office boy laughed out loud.

"Dear me! I'm glad every one in this office is so good-natured,"

thought the Clown to himself. "And I certainly am glad to get out of that Man's pocket. I was nearly smothered there, but of course it was better than being in the tree. I'll do some more tricks for them if the Man pulls more strings."

And the Man did. He pulled the strings fastened to the Clown's arms, and they jiggled and joggled in a merry fas.h.i.+on, so the girl and the office boy laughed harder than ever.

"Well, how in the world did that Clown toy come to be in my pocket?

That's what I want to know," said the Man, very much puzzled.

"Maybe one of the children put it in," suggested the girl. She knew the Man had children at home.