The day for the Lenox sports dawned clear and beautiful. By breakfast time the mists had rolled away from the hilltops. The trees, which were now beginning to show bare places among their leafy branches, beheld their own reflections in the lakes that nestled at the feet of the Lenox hills.

From their veranda Miss Stuart and her girls could see every style of handsome vehicle gliding along the perfect roads that led toward the Fair Grounds from the beautiful homes surrounding the old township.

The Society Circus could be enjoyed only by invitation. The tickets had been sent out only to the chosen. An invitation meant the payment of five dollars to the Hospital Fund.

Barbara was the first of the girls to be ready to start to the Fair Grounds. She wore the tan riding-habit that Ruth had loaned her. She was not to ride until later in the day, but it would not be feasible to return to the hotel to change her costume.

Miss Stuart and her party had been asked to be the guests at luncheon of Ambassador and Mrs. Morton.

Ruth and Grace were dressed in short skirts, loose blouses, and coats. They, also, looked ready for business. So only Miss Stuart and Mollie were able to wear the handsome toilets suited to the occasion. Mollie appeared in her blue silk costume. Miss Sallie was resplendent in a pearl gray broadcloth and a hat of violet orchids.

At half-past nine, Hugh Post and Ralph Ewing knocked at Miss Stuart’s sitting-room door. Barbara had already seen Ruth’s and Hugh’s automobiles waiting for them on the hotel driveway. The boys were impatient to be off.

“Kindly explain to me, Ruth,” asked Hugh, as the party finally started, “why you are carrying those two large bolts of ribbon? Are you going into the millinery business to-day?”

Ruth laughed. “Remember, if you please, that Grace and I are going in for a much more serious undertaking. These ribbons are the reins that we intend to use for our extraordinary race to-day. I shall endeavor to drive my turkey with blue strings. Grace considers red ribbon more adapted to the disposition and appearance of a rooster.”

“Well, you girls certainly have nerve to take part in such a wild goose chase!” laughed the boy.

At the Fair Grounds Miss Stuart had reserved seats for her party near the green inclosure. Just in front of them was a little platform, decorated in red, white and blue bunting. On this were seated the Ambassador, Franz Heller, Mr. Winthrop Latham, Reginald and several other prominent Lenox residents.

Grace and Ruth were not allowed to remain with their friends; they were immediately hurried off to the clubhouse, where they found eight other girls waiting for them. The entrance of the ten girls, driving their extraordinary steeds, was to be the great opening event of the Society Circus.

At ten-thirty Mr. Winthrop Latham announced the first feature of their entertainment.

A peal of laughter burst from hundreds of throats.

Marching from the clubhouse were ten pretty girls, “shooing” in front of them ten varieties of barnyard fowls!

Dorothy Morton walked along in a stately fashion, led by an old gray goose. Neither Miss Morton nor the goose seemed in the least degree disturbed by the applause and laughter.

Ruth’s turkey was not so amiable. It stopped several times in its promenade from the clubhouse, to crane its long neck back at the driver. The turkey’s small eyes surveyed the scene about it with a look of mingled suspicion and indignation. The old rooster, which regarded the occasion as given in its honor, traveled in front of Grace at a lively pace.

Within the inclosed field, just in front of the little stand, where the Ambassador and his friends sat, two poles had been placed ten yards apart. Across the meadow, about an eighth of a mile, were two other poles of the same kind.

The girls were to try to persuade their curious steeds to run across the field from the first posts to those opposite. There the drivers were expected to turn their steeds and come safely back to the starting place.

Of the ten entrances Grace and her rooster made the best start. Ruth’s turkey refused to stir; he had found a fat worm on the ground in front of him. His attention was riveted to that. Ruth flapped her blue silk reins in vain.

But a peacock bore the turkey company. Seeing himself and his barnyard acquaintances the center of so many eyes, Mr. Peacock was properly vain. He spread his beautiful fan-shaped tail, and would not be driven from the starting-place.

Dorothy Morton and her old gray goose continued their stately walk across the meadow. Only once did the goose’s dignity forsake it. Grace’s excitable rooster crossed its path! The rooster had made a short scurry to the side, his driver trying to persuade him back to the straight path. As the rooster hurried past the old gray goose, the latter stopped short, gave an indignant flap of its wings, rose a few inches from the ground, and pecked at Mr. Rooster. A moment later the goose continued its dignified march.

This incident was too much for Grace’s irascible rooster. With a terrified crow he darted first this way, then that, until Grace was wound up in her own red silk reins. It seemed a hopeless task to try to reach the goal.

It was another instance of the old story of the hare and the tortoise. While Grace struggled with her rooster, a fat duck waddled past her. The duck’s mistress had enticed her nearly the whole length of the journey by throwing grains of corn a yard or so ahead of her steed. Of course, any well disposed duck would move forward for refreshments.

Dorothy Morton arrived safely at the first goal with her old gray goose. But now her troubles really began. Her steed had no disposition to return to the crowd of noisy spectators that it had so cheerfully left behind. Dorothy tugged at one of her heavy white reins. The goose continued placidly on its way across the broad field. A goose is not a pleasant bird in attack, and Dorothy did not like to resort to forcible methods.

Assistance came from an unexpected quarter. Grace’s rooster had at last been persuaded to rush violently between the required posts. In one of its excited turns, it brushed close behind the old goose. Here was a chance for revenge! The rooster gave a flying peck at the goose’s tail feathers and flew on.

With a loud squawk the goose turned completely around. It flew up in the air, then down to the ground again, and made a rush for its opponent. But the rooster was unworthy game. It tacked too often to the right and left. The old gray goose gave up its pursuit in disgust. Since it was headed toward the starting-place it took up its walk again, Dorothy Morton meekly following it.

Only three of the girls remained in the race. Ruth had given up in despair. Her turkey had wandered off to parts unknown. Another girl sat on an upturned stump feeding crumbs to a motherly hen that had found walking disagreeable and had taken to scratching around the roots of a tree.

Dorothy passed her rival with the duck midway on her journey back home. The duck took no further interest in corn. It had eaten all that a well-bred fowl could desire. Now it squatted in the grass to enjoy a well-earned repose.

Shrieks of laughter rose when Dorothy Morton at last drove her gray goose back to the judge’s stand.

“Hurrah for the old gray goose!” shouted the spectators in merry applause.

Franz Heller rushed down from the platform, carrying two wreaths in his hands. One was made of smilax and pink roses; the other a small wreath of evergreens with a silver bell fastened to it. Franz dropped the rose garland over Dorothy Morton’s head. The small wreath with the bell he placed on the neck of the old gray goose.

Exhausted, Dorothy dropped into the nearest seat. The old gray goose wandered off toward home, led by a proud farmer’s boy.

Scarcely had the laughter from the first event ceased, when the Thread and Needle Race was called for.

Ralph Ewing was an easy winner, thanks to Mollie’s skill as a seamstress. Ralph declared the button she sewed on him should ornament his coat for evermore.

But the Egg and Spoon Race was a closely contested event.

The race appeared to be a tie between Ambassador Morton and Mr. Winthrop
Latham.

Near-sighted Franz Heller made a brave start, but his eyes betrayed him. Carefully carrying his egg in a spoon which he bore at arm’s length, Franz forgot to look down at his feet. He stumped his toe against a small stone. Crash, the egg rolled from his spoon! A yellow stream marked the place where it fell.

Mr. Latham and the Ambassador were painstaking men. They ran along, side by side, at a gentle pace. The man who arrived first at the appointed goal with an unbroken egg was, of course, the victor.

Unfortunately for Mr. Latham, an old habit overcame him. In the midst of the contest he paused to adjust his glasses. The movement of his arm was fatal. His spoon tipped and his egg rolled gently to the earth.

Still the Ambassador continued unmoved on his stately journey. With a smile he solemnly handed an unbroken white egg to Reginald Latham.

“Here, cook this for your breakfast!” he advised Reginald, who was acting as judge of this famous event.

Cutting a lemon with a saber, and the Dummy Race, ended the morning’s sports. The afternoon was to be devoted to riding.