a-missin' all the fun."

"She's too little to go down by herself," answered John Jay; "but if I
had another little board I'd take her down in front of me."

He began looking around the wood-pile for one. Then he caught sight of
the big dish-pan, which had been set outside on the logs to sun.

"That's the ve'y thing!" he exclaimed. "It'll jus' hole her." The bacon
rind was nearly rubbed dry by this time, but the pan, heated by sitting
so long in the sun, drew out all the grease that remained. It took the
united strength of both boys to get Ivy to the top of the shed, but at
last she was seated, with John Jay just behind her on his little board,
his legs thrown protectingly around the pan. They shot down so fast that
Ivy was terrified. No sooner was she dumped out of the pan on to the
ground than she retired to a safe distance, and stuck her thumb in her
mouth. Nothing could induce her to get in again.

"I'm goin' down in the dish-pan by myself," announced Bud from the shed
roof. "It jus' fits me."

John Jay grinned, and stood a little to one side to watch the
performance. "Go it, Brer Tarrypin!" he shouted.

Maybe Bud leaned a little too much to one side. Maybe the pan missed the
guiding legs that had held it steady before. At any rate something was
amiss, for half-way down the plank it spun dizzily around to one side,
and spilled the luckless Bud out on the chicken-coop. Usually he made
very little fuss when he was hurt, but this time he set up such a roar
that John Jay was frightened. When he saw blood trickling out of the