So Pony Billy trotted away once more; and Sandy and Jenny Ferret determined to give the best performance that could be arranged under the circumstances. Iky Shepster flew round with invitations gratis; and there was quite a “full house” in the orchard. There were ducks, pigs, poultry, turkeys, two farm dogs, and the cat, (which was a great disappointment for the mice who had counted upon coming). And there were also four calves, a cow, a pet lamb, and a number of sparrows.

“It would have meant a good bit of corn for us if they had all paid for tickets,” said Sandy, regretfully, “but then the sparrows would not have come; and I have doubts about Charles. He would never have taken tickets for all those hens.”

Sandy was inspecting the audience through a hole in an old curtain which was hung on the line between two clothes-props. Behind the curtain was a small platform (in fact, a box wrong-side up); and behind the platform were the steps of the caravan. So the stage was conveniently situated in front of the caravan door. Iky Shepster directed the performance from the roof above.

“Are you all seated? (Pull the curtain, Sandy.) Cow! pigs, poultry! and gentlemen—” (murmurs and churtlings from Charles) “dogs, cat, poultry, and gentlemen, I beg to explain that a concatenation of unforeseen circumstances has caused this performance to be curtailed gratis” (hear, hear, chirped the sparrows) “because Mr. Pony William isn’t here, and Mr. Patrick Pig is unwell, and the Pigmy Elephant has gone to Blackpool, wherefore—”  “Cluck, cur, cluck, cuck-cluck! when do you expect him back?” interrupted Charles, “—has gone to Blackpool for a month, wherefore the rest of us will present a dramatic sketch in six scenes accompanied by recitation. I should also say the Live Polecats and Weasels are poorly but the Fat Dormouse of Salisbury will be exhibited in a cage on account of that cat; likewise the Sultan—”  “Cluck, cur, cluck, cluck, cluck! my hens would prefer not to see the polecats.”  “You ain’t going to see them. Act I, Scene I,” said Iky Shepster.

The door of the caravan opened and Jenny Ferret came down the steps on to the stage. She did always dress like an old woman, but this time she was dressed more so; she wore a white-frilled mutch cap and spectacles. She carried a plate and was followed by Sandy. Iky Shepster up above recited—

“Old Mother Hubbard she went to the cupboard,

To get her poor doggie a bone,

When she got there – the cupboard was bare,

And so the poor doggie had none!”

Jenny Ferret looked inside an up-ended, perfectly empty biscuit canister (which was the only piece of furniture on the stage); in dumb show she condoled with Sandy, who was begging pathetically. Then they both bundled up the steps out of sight into the caravan. “Cluck, cur, cluck, cluck, cluck! I’ve heard that before,” said Charles. “Did not he act it natural?” said one farm-dog to the other. “Not a single crumb! Fye! what bad housekeeping!” cackled the hens. “Scene II,” said Iky Shepster.

“She went to the barber’s to buy him a wig,

When she came back he was dancing a jig!”

For this scene Sandy came on first by himself; he danced a lively “pas seul,” spinning round and pirouetting. Jenny Ferret came out on the steps with a wisp of gray horse-hair in her hand to represent the wig; she stood in an attitude of admiration watching Sandy. Then she retired into the caravan; and after a few more twirls, Sandy fell flop upon the stage with all his legs in the air. “What’s the matter with him? is he ill?” asked the ducks. “Cuck, cur, cluck—” began Charles. “Scene III,”said Iky Shepster, hastily,

“She went to the baker’s to buy him some bread,

When she came back the poor dog was dead!”

Jenny Ferret wrung her hands over the prostrate Sandy. The cow appeared deeply shocked. “Scene IV,” said Iky Shepster, after Jenny Ferret had gone back into the caravan, carrying the unwanted loaf wrapped in newspaper.

“She went to the joiner’s to buy him a coffin,

When she came back the poor dog was laughing!”

“Cuck, cur, cluck! I’ve heard the whole of this before,” said Charles.

“She went to the butcher’s to buy him some tripe,

When she came back, he was smoking a pipe!”

“Cuck, cur, cluck! that, I have certainly heard,” said Charles. Sandy was becoming so angry that he could scarcely hold the pipe in his mouth, or restrain himself from jumping off the stage at Charles. “Scene VI,”said Iky Shepster severely, to the audience, who, however; were all listening with respectful attention, excepting Charles. “Scene VI, whichnone of you can have heard before, because I only invented it this minute (play up, Sandy!).

“She went to the grocer’s to buy him some cheese,

When she came back the poor dog did sneeze!”

Sandy relieved his indignation by letting off a terrific “K’tishoo!”  “Scene VII and last,” said Iky Shepster.

“The dame made a curtsey, the dog made a bow,

The dame said, ‘Your servant’; the dog said ‘Bow-wow!’”

“Cluck, cluck, cluck! very good, very good!” said Charles the cock; while the birds clapped their wings, and the dogs barked applause. “Now, Charles, get on the platform yourself and give us something.”  “Certainly, with pleasure,” said Charles. Up he flew and commenced—

“This is the cock that crowed in the morn,

That waked the priest all shaven and shorn,

That married the man all tattered and torn.

That kissed the maiden all forlorn,

That milked the cow with the crumpled horn,

That tossed the dog that worried the cat,

That killed the rat that ate the malt,

That lay in the house that Jack built.”

“Well done, Charles! A tale that was told in the city of Ur, of the Chaldees; and none the less interesting, although we have heard it before!”

The entertainment concluded with a few conjuring tricks performed by Iky Shepster, who was an adept at causing things to disappear. Xarifa’s scissors were still missing, and the teaspoons were a short count.

Jenny Ferret was indignant; she reproached the bird continually. “If you scold me any more I shall fly away without giving notice,” said Iky Shepster, sulkily. “That is a loss we could put up with!” grumbled Jenny Ferret; “it is my belief you are feathering your nest with teaspoons. And what for are you picking off red currant blossoms? You and that hen starling? Is it a wedding?”

Iky Shepster laughed and chittered and flew to the top of the chimney stack. He fluttered his wings and whistled to the setting sun, and to a very pretty speckled starling, perched on the next chimney pot. The ducks waddled home from the orchard. The hens became tired of waiting for the Pigmy Elephant and came home to roost. The camp was left in peace. There were white violets under the orchard hedge, they smelled very sweet in the evening.

“Jenny Ferret – please – please let me out! I want to brush Tuppenny’s hair; I want to come out, Jenny Ferret!” said Xarifa, scrubbing her nose between the wires of her cage, and tugging at the bars with little pink hands.

“I cannot let you come out, Xarifa. The farm cat is sitting on the pig-stye roof; it sits there all day long, watching us.”  “Is that why the mice could not come?”  “Yes, it is. The sparrows said so. Four mice had come from Hill Top Farm on purpose to see the circus; and five others came from Buckle Yeat and the Currier. They are in the granary now, hiding behind a corn-bin.” Xarifa gnawed the bars with vexation. “I did want to see those Hill Top mice again, Jenny Ferret; Cobweb and Dusty and Pippin and Smut. Is there no way of asking them to tea?”  “You would not like the cat to catch them, Xarifa.” A tear trickled down Xarifa’s nose.