Mr. Popper's Penguins

comfortable. But a warm spring wind was blowing across Boston Common, and at the hotel Mr. Popper had to have the ice brought up to his rooms in thousand-pound cakes. He was glad that the ten-week contract was almost up, and that the next week, when his birds were to appear in New York, was the last.
    Already Mr. Greenbaum was writing about a new contract. Mr. Popper was beginning to think, however, that he had better be getting back to Stillwater, for the penguins were growing irritable.
     

Chapter XVIII

April Winds
     
    F IT WAS unseasonably warm in Boston, it was actually hot in New York. In their rooms at the great Tower Hotel, overlooking Central Park, the penguins were feeling the heat badly.
    Mr. Popper took them up to the roof garden to catch whatever cool breeze might be blowing. The penguins were all charmed by the sparkling lights and the confusion of the city below. The younger birds began crowding over to the edge of the roof and looking down at the great canyons beneath them. It made Mr. Popper very nervous to see them shoving each other, as if at any moment they might succeed in pushing one over. He remembered how the South Pole penguins always did this to find out what danger lay below.
    The roof was not a safe place for them. Mr. Popper had never forgotten how badly frightened he had been when Captain Cook had been so ill, before Greta came. He could not risk the chance of losing one of his penguins now.
    Where the penguins were concerned, nothing was ever too much trouble for him. He took them downstairs again and bathed them under the cold showers in the bathroom. This kept him busy a large part of the night.
    With all this lack of sleep, he was quite drowsy the next morning when he had to call the taxis to get to the theater. Besides, Mr. Popper had always been a little absent-minded. That is how he made his great mistake when he said to the first taxi-driver: —
    “Regal Theater.”
    “Yes, sir,” said the driver, threading his way in and out the traffic of Broadway, which greatly interested both the children and the penguins.
    They had almost reached the theater, when the driver suddenly turned. “Say,” he said, “you don’t mean to say those penguins are going to be on the same bill with Swenson’s Seals, do you?”
    “I don’t know what else is on the bill,” said Mr. Popper, paying him. “Anyway, here’s the Regal.” And they piled out and filed in the stage entrance.
    In the wings stood a large, burly, red-faced man. “So these are the Popper Performing Penguins, huh?” he said. “Well, I want to tell you, Mr. Popper, that I’m Swen Swenson, and those are my seals in there on the stage now, and if your birds try any funny business, it’ll be too bad for them. My seals are tough, see? They’d think nothing of eating two or three penguins apiece.”
    From the stage could be heard the hoarse barks of the seals, who were going through their act.
    “Papa,” said Mrs. Popper, “the penguins are the last act on the bill. You go run back quick and get those taxis and we’ll let the penguins ride around a while until it’s time for their number.”
    Mr. Popper hurried out to catch the drivers.
    When he returned, it was too late. The Popper Performing Penguins had already discovered the Swenson Seals.
    “Papa, I can’t look ! ” cried the children.
    There was a sound of dreadful confusion on the stage, the audience was in an uproar, and the curtain was quickly rung down.
    When the Poppers rushed onto the stage, both penguins and seals had found the stairway leading to the Swenson dressing-room and were on their way upstairs.
    “I can’t bear to think what’s happening up there,” said Mr. Popper, with a shudder.
    Mr. Swenson only laughed. “I hope your birds were insured, Popper,” he said. “How much were they worth? Well, let’s go up and look.”
    “You go up, Papa,” said Mrs. Popper. “Bill, you run out of the theater and call the police to come and try to save some of our penguins.”
    “I’ll go get the fire department,” said Janie.
    When the firemen, with a great clanging, came and set up their ladders so that they could get in through the window of Mr. Swenson’s dressing room, they were a little vexed to find that there was no fire at all. However, when they found six black-mustached seals, sitting barking in the middle of the room, with twelve penguins parading gaily around them in a square, they felt better.
    Then the policemen came in their