“It is the circus!” cried Phebe gaily as they both recalled the red cart and the charge of the clan. There was only one boy now, alas, but he made noise enough for half a dozen, and before Rose could run to the door, Jamie came bouncing in with a “shining morning face,” a bat over his shoulder, a red and white jockey cap on his head, one pocket bulging with a big ball, the other overflowing with cookies, and his mouth full of the apple he was just finishing off in hot haste. “Morning! I just looked in to make sure you'd really come and see that you were all right,” he observed, saluting with bat and doffing the gay cap with one effective twitch. “Good morning, dear. Yes, we really are here, and getting to rights as fast as possible. But it seems to me you are rather gorgeous, Jamie. What do you belong to a fire company or a jockey club?” asked Rose, turning up the once chubby face, which now was getting brown and square about the chin. “No, ma'am! Why, don't you know? I'm captain of the Base Ball Star Club. Look at that, will you?” And, as if the fact were one of national importance, Jamie flung open his jacket to display upon his proudly swelling chest an heart-shaped red flannel shield decorated with a white cotton star the size of a tea plate. “Superb! I've been away so long I forgot there was such a game. And you the captain?” cried Rose, deeply impressed by the high honor to which her kinsman had arrived. “I just am, and it's no joke you'd better believe, for we knock our teeth out, black our eyes, and split our fingers almost as well as the big fellows. You come down to the Common between one and two and see us play a match, then you'll understand what hard work it is. I'll teach you to bat now if you'll come out on the lawn,” added Jamie, fired with a wish to exhibit his prowess. “No, thank you, captain. The grass is wet, and you'll be late at school if you stay for us.” “I'm not afraid. Girls are not good for much generally, but you never used to mind a little wet and played cricket like a good one. Can't you ever do that sort of thing now?” asked the boy, with a pitying look at these hapless creatures debarred from the joys and perils of manly sports. “I can run still and I'll get to the gate before you, see if I don't.” And, yielding to the impulse of the moment, Rose darted down the steps before astonished Jamie could mount and follow. He was off in a moment, but Rose had the start, and though old Sheltie did his best, she reached the goal just ahead, and stood there laughing and panting, all rosy with fresh October air, a pretty picture for several gentlemen who were driving by. “Good for you, Rose!” said Archie, jumping out to shake hands while Will and Geordie saluted and Uncle Mac laughed at Jamie, who looked as if girls had risen slightly in his opinion.