VERY early next morning Sally was wakened by Rough House, who was standing up on his hind legs beside her bed, licking her face and occasionally uttering a short, sharp bark.

As soon as he saw that she was wide awake he ran toward the door and then back to the bed, pulling at Sally’s nightgown, and plainly begging her to follow him.

Sally jumped out of bed at once, hastily stuck her little pink toes into her red bedroom slippers, a new pair, kept carefully in a convenient hidie-hole where the dog’s greatest ingenuity could never discover them, and threw over her nightie a dainty silk kimono on which were embroidered a succession of smiling Japanese ladies, each one sitting under a cherry tree in full bloom and holding over her head a wonderful Japanese umbrella, which seemed to be entirely unnecessary in view of the shade that must have been cast by the cherry tree. It was, moreover, faced with pink satin, and was quite the most delightful article in Sally’s wardrobe.

The little girl hastily followed the dog, who had started downstairs, pausing now and then to look back and make sure that Sally was following.

Down the stairs they hastened and as they reached the lower flight sounds of woe were wafted to them from the kitchen. Thither they hastened to find cook crying and wringing her hands over the dreadful outlook.

Immediately Sally thought of Marius at the ruins of Carthage, and Herculaneum and Pompeii, stories that she had learned from her governess; but she forbore to mention them, as cook was not exactly in a frame of mind just then to absorb ancient history.

The little girl longed to rush forward and comfort her friend whom she had remembered from babyhood. But the kitchen floor was in such a fearfully sticky mess with jam and pickles and scraps of cake and pie that she could only hover on the outskirts, calling out her condolences to cook, who for once in her life failed to pay the smallest attention to her little favorite.

Just then John, the man who did all the chores about the house, came stumping up the cellar stairs. He had gone down to attend to the furnace, but had found something in the coal bin that sent him straight back again as fast as his rheumatic leg would allow.

He now appeared in the doorway with his arms full of Peter Pan and his family, all of which he proceeded to solemnly deposit in the middle of the floor. And a more demoralized, disreputable looking bunch one could never conceive or imagine.

Sticky with the cider in which they had wallowed and covered with a fine layer of coal dust acquired in the quarters in which they had passed the night, they presented an appalling vision, and poor Sally lifted up her voice and wept in unison with cook.

Just then Rough House appeared at the kitchen door, having made a trip upstairs and succeeded in arousing papa, mamma and nurse, who now came hurrying down half-dressed. And Sally was forthwith borne off to the nursery, where she was coddled and comforted and dressed by the crackling wood fire.

Mamma condoled with cook and papa decided that a private detective should henceforth look after the house during the night.

Rough House was the last one to leave for the upper regions and as he followed mamma upstairs he cocked his eye knowingly at Peter Pan, sitting disconsolately in the midst of his crocked and begrimed family. That besmeared worthy glared sullenly back without being able to hurl defiance at his enemy in any more emphatic manner.

Breakfast was late that morning and very scrappy, but nobody cared for anything much, so much troubled were they all over the affair in the kitchen. And after the doleful meal was concluded papa departed to find Pinkerton and mamma and Sally drove down town carrying the Teddy Bears to the cleaners, where, owing to their dreadful condition, they were obliged to remain for at least a couple of weeks.

It is needless to say that during their absence everything progressed smoothly and the man from Pinkerton’s found himself, like Othello, with his occupation gone. And when they finally returned fresh and fine and several shades lighter from the cleaning process, they were greeted with rapture by their little mistress.

Only the dogs were sorry to see them return. If ever a dog mourned his inability to talk, that dog was Rough House as he watched Sally while she hugged and kissed the returned prodigals.

The dog had always been Peter Pan’s especial detestation, and now his hatred was increased immeasurably. From his coign of vantage on Sally’s knee he watched the dog sulkily, as he lay at the little girl’s feet, his beautiful red coat glistening like satin in the winter sunshine and his sharp, black nose between his two paws, apparently asleep, but in reality watching everything through half-closed eyelids.

Peter Pan had added considerably to his already varied store of knowledge during his stay at the cleaning establishment, and had learned, for one thing, that a telephone is a very handy thing to have in the house. He had seen the employees at the cleaners use it frequently and was fairly itching to get his mischief making paws on the receiver of the extension phone that hung up in the nursery.

Mrs. Peter Pan had been carrying on worse than ever, and sulked most of the time, for she had grown very lonely and did not get on at all well with the rest of the toys in the nursery. She boxed the cubs and snapped at her husband and altogether made life so unbearable that after deep and prolonged meditation Peter Pan concocted a scheme which he now only awaited a favorable opportunity to put into execution.

His chance came on a certain night, when, the dogs having gone to the farm for a few days, the coast in the nursery was quite clear.

Dragging a chair to the telephone he joyfully mounted upon it and pulled down the receiver. In another moment the night watchman at Schwartz’s was more than astonished to be called to the phone and to hear a queer little growling voice send in a large order for Teddy bears to be delivered the first thing next morning at the North residence.

The order was so large that it completely cleaned up the stock of Teddy bears, which were duly packed, and at an early hour a big delivery wagon drew up in front of Sally’s home, and out of it the driver lifted a huge box, which he proceeded to deposit in the front hall.

Mamma was not at home, having gone to aunty’s for luncheon, but Sally immediately sent for John, who opened the box at once. When what should tumble out but a whole multitude of Teddy bears, of all sizes, colors and descriptions?

Sally was rendered quite speechless with delight and astonishment. And when mamma arrived at home, late in the afternoon, she was more than surprised to find her little daughter sitting on the nursery floor literally surrounded by Teddy bears, that swarmed all over the nursery and overflowed into her own room beyond.

In the midst of them and wearing a most delighted expression sat Bedelia, no longer sulky but literally beaming and appearing the very jolliest of bears.

Immediately there was a good deal of telephoning, first to papa and then to Schwartz’s; the latter, when they learned of the practical joke that had been perpetrated, readily agreed to take back the Teddy bears.

Sally was of course dreadfully disappointed, and although she could not refrain from a few tears that reddened her poor little nose, she was, on the whole, so sweet about it that papa allowed her to select several bears which were kept in the nursery when the rest of the tribe journeyed away in the big delivery wagon.