A Day at the County Fair

								

seat behind, with a large wicker lunch basket on the floor before them.
"Good-bye," they called as the car started, and Mrs. White waved her
handkerchief until they were out of sight.
It was the beautiful month of September and the leaves were turning to
red and gold. The air was soft and cool against their faces and the sky
was dotted here and there with tiny white clouds that looked like
little ships sailing on an ocean of blue.
Uncle Billy had headed the car toward the west and it sped down the
country road, leaving the town of Merryvale far behind. Past fields and
farms they flew, through woodlands and over little bridges under which
ran tiny, bubbling brooks.
"It's like being in fairyland," whispered Mary. "Look, the leaves have
made a gold and crimson carpet."
"Yes, and at night the fairies dance in the moonlight," answered Beth,
"and drink honey from the blue bells. Wouldn't that soft mossy bank
make a lovely throne for the queen?"
"What are you two talking about?" demanded Jerry, turning around in
her seat and facing them. "I don't believe you know that Beth's Uncle
Billy let me drive this car for a long way and he hardly helped at
all."
"Well, I should say we didn't, or we'd have been scared to death,"
laughed Beth.
"Well, it's not half as dangerous as driving an airship, and I'm going
to do that some day. I'd love to go away up above the clouds."
"And talk to the man in the moon, I suppose," teased Mary.
"That would be fun, if you didn't have any engine trouble," chuckled
Uncle Billy, joining in the fun.
"What's engine trouble?" demanded Jerry. "Do you mean something
happening to the works of it?"
"That's it," declared Uncle Billy, "and when it happens down you come
faster than even you would like."
"Just down right side up or head over heels," insisted Jerry.
"Well, it needn't make any difference to you, because you are not going
to do it, Geraldine White," interrupted Beth, looking at Mary, who
hastened to agree with her.
"Lots of times I've wished I were a boy," sighed Jerry. "Nobody ever
seems to mind what they do."
"What's the surprise, Uncle Billy?" asked Beth. "Why are you stopping?"
"I don't know myself," said Uncle Billy with a frown on his forehead,
as the car gradually came to a stop, "but I'll have to find out."
"Whatever's the matter?" cried Jerry. "Do you think we're having engine
trouble?" and she hopped out and stood by the roadside gazing at the
car.
"Nothing so easy as that," answered Uncle Billy, in great disgust;
"it's gas. We have run out of it. Looks as though they didn't fill up
the tank in the garage before we started, as I told them to do."
"Gasoline!" gasped Beth, "and that's what makes it go."

CHAPTER III
THE PICNIC LUNCH

"Oh, cheer up," said Uncle Billy in his jolly way, "some one will be