The Harriet Bean 3-Book Omnibus Read Online Free PDF

Veronica wasmaking it move purely through her own effort. As we drove through the field, faces appeared at the windows of the other trailers. Word spreads quickly in the circus, and the other circus people already knew about Aunt Veronica’s vacation.
    “Good luck!” somebody shouted. “Come back soon!”
    Aunt Veronica tooted the trailer’s horn, a rubber bulb attached to a brass tube, and I waved from my window. Then we were out on the open road and the trailer began to pick up speed.
    We had traveled for at least an hour before Aunt Veronica began to feel tired. During this time, we had moved at about the speed of a fast bicycle, which is not all that slow. We had overtaken one or two cars as well, and I had watched the expressions of surprise on the faces of the drivers as the trailer swept silently past them. I could imagine them saying to themselves, “I didn’t hear that behind me! What an amazingly quiet engine that trailer must have.”
    As we neared a small roadside filling station. Aunt Veronica signaled that she was going to turn in. We stopped at the side of the station and went in to buy a bottle of lemonade and a large bar of chocolate for Aunt Veronica. After we had made our purchases, Aunt Veronica turned to me, winked, and spoke to the mechanic who ran the station.
    “I think I have engine trouble in my trailer,” she said. “Could you take a look at it?”
    The mechanic nodded, put on his greasy overalls, and walked with us back to the trailer. First he went to the front of the trailer, looked at it, and then went to the back. He opened the back door, looked at the floor, and scratched his head. Then he got down on his hands and knees and peered underneath.
    “Excuse me,” he said after a while. “I can’t seem to find the engine. Do you know where it is?”
    Aunt Veronica pretended to look puzzled. “It must be there somewhere,” she said. “But I’m afraid I don’t know where.”
    The mechanic was now looking very mystified. He crouched down again and crawled underneath.
    “It’s not here,” he called out. “There’s … there’s absolutely nothing!”
    He scrambled out and looked at Aunt Veronica, his eyes wide with astonishment.
    “Where do you put the gas in?” he demanded. “Maybe we can work it out from there.”
    “Gas?” said Aunt Veronica, as if the word meant nothing to her. “Well, I don’t think I ever buy gas. Or at least I can’t actually remember ever putting any gas in.”
    The mechanic’s jaw dropped. “You mean…,” he began to say. “You mean to say that you
never
put gas in?”
    Aunt Veronica shook her head.
    “In that case,” said the mechanic, “how did you get here? You tell me that!”
    Aunt Veronica shrugged her shoulders.
    “I get in and turn the engine on, and just drive,” she answered. “Look, I’ll show you.”
    We both got back into the trailer andclosed the door behind us. Trying not to laugh, I took up my place at the window while Aunt Veronica sat in the driver’s seat. Then, while the bemused mechanic stood back and watched, Aunt Veronica put her feet on the pedals and slowly we moved off.
    “You see,” she called from her seat. “It works!”
    “Good-bye!” I cried as we moved off.
    The mechanic stood rooted to the spot. His face was a picture of puzzlement, and he looked just as if he had seen a flying saucer.
    “He’ll never forget today,” joked Aunt Veronica. “He’ll tell all his friends about it. And do you know, I’m afraid that not one of them will ever believe him!”

The Strangest Incident in the History of Opera
    The opera house stood on the top of a hill, on the outskirts of town. It was a beautiful building, as an opera house should be, with a sweep of stone steps leading up to the doors and a high roof of shining copper. We parked the trailer at the back and made our way to the stage door.
    “Now, ladies,” said an attendant in a blue and gold uniform, barring our way. “This door is only for the