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friends one on each arm.

      He whistled, and Snoop climbed on his shoulder!

      He whistled again, and Fluffy climbed on the other shoulder.

      This “brought the house down,” as Uncle Daniel said, and there was so much noise the kittens looked frightened.

      Next Harry stretched out both arms straight and the kittens carefully walked over into his hands.

      “Well, I declare!” exclaimed Dinah. “Jest see dat Snoopy kitty-cat! If he can’t do real reg’lar circus tricks! And jest to think how he cut up on de cars! ’Pears like as if he was doin’ it fer jokes den too!”

      “And look at Fluffy!” exclaimed Martha; “as white as Snoop is black!” Harry stooped down and let the kittens jump through his hands, which is an old but none the less a very pretty trick.

      With the air of a real master, Bert snapped his whip and placed on the table a little piece of board. He rubbed something on each end (it was a bit of dried herring, but the people didn’t know that), then Harry put Snoop on one end and Fluffy on the other.

      “Oh, a teeter-tauter!” called Freddie, unable to restrain his joy any longer. “I bet on Snoop. He’s the heaviest.”

      At the sound of Freddie’s voice Snoop turned around and the move sent Fluffy up the air.

      “Oh! oh! oh!” came a chorus from the children, but before anybody in the circus had time to interfere off went Fluffy, as hard as she could run, over the lots, home.

      The next minute Snoop was after her, and Harry stood alone in the ring bowing to the “tremendous applause.”

      When the laughing had ceased Bert made the next announcement.

      “Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “we will now introduce our famous menagerie. First we have the singing mice.”

      “They’re mine!” called Freddie, but Nan insisted on him keeping quiet.

      “Now you will hear the mice sing,” said Bert, and as he held up the cage of little mice somebody whistled a funny tune back of the scenes.

      “Good! good!” called Mr. Bobbsey. “We’ve got real talent here,” he added, for indeed the boys had put together a fine show.

      “Now you see our aquarium,” went on Bert as Harry helped him bring forward the table that held the glass tank.

      “Here we have a real sea serpent,” he said, pointing to a good fat chub that flopped around in the water.

      “Let the little ones walk right up and see them,” Bert said. “Form in line and pass in this way.”

      Not only the children went up, but grown folks too, for they wanted a look into the tank.

      “Now here are our alligators and crocodiles,” announced Bert, pointing his whip at the turtles.

      “And these are sea-lions,” he said, pointing out Freddie’s hop-toads.

      At each announcement everybody laughed, but Bert went on as seriously as if he were deaf.

      “In this separate tank,” he declared, “we have our boa-constrictors, the largest and fiercest in the world. This is the first time one of this specimen has ever been captured alive. Note the dangerous stripe on his back!”

      It was Jack’s snakes that came in for this description, and the girls were quite afraid of them, although they were in a glass jar.

      “Well, I declare!” said Mrs. Burns. “If this isn’t a sure-enough circus. I often paid a half-dollar when I went to see things no better than these!”

      Everybody thought everything was splendid, and the boys were well paid for their efforts.

      “Now,” said Bert, “here are our crystal fish from the deep sea!” (These were Tom’s goldfish.) “You will notice how bespangled they are. They say this comes from the fish eating the diamonds lost in shipwrecks.”

      “What a whopper!” called someone back of the scenes whose voice sounded like Tom Mason’s.

      Snap! went Bert’s whip, and the boys did not interrupt him again.

      “The last part of our menagerie is the cage of prize butterflies,” said Bert. “These butterflies are rare and scarce and—”

      “Hard to catch!” remarked someone not on the programme.

      “Now there will be ten minutes’ intermission,” the announcer said, “so all may have time to see everything in the menagerie.

      “After that we will give you the best number of the programme, our chariot race.”

      “Oh, that’s going to be Tom!” exclaimed Roy.

      “No, it’s Bert,” said Flossie.

      “Well, Jack has our goat-wagon,” said Mildred.

      “I guess there’ll be a whole lot in the race,” said Freddie, “and maybe they’ll have firemen.”

      During the intermission August sold a whole big basket of peanuts, and the people wanted more. They knew all the money was to go to the fresh-air camp, which was probably the reason they bought so generously.

      “I don’t know when I have enjoyed myself so much,” declared Mrs. Manners, fanning herself. “I had no idea boys could be so clever.”

      “That’s because you only have girls,” laughed Mrs. Bobbsey.

      “Don’t you think we ought to give them a treat for working so hard?” whispered Mrs. Herold to Aunt Sarah. “I would be delighted to have them all to dinner,” she added, in her society way, for the Herolds were quite rich.

      “That would be very nice, I’m sure,” Aunt Sarah replied; “boys always have good appetites after having a lot of fun.”

      All this time there was plenty of noise back of the scenes, and it was evident something big was being prepared.

      Presently Bert and Harry came out and lowered the tent flap, first making sure all the little sightseers were outside.

      “They’re comin’!” exclaimed Freddie, clapping his fat hands.

      “Oh, I’m just so nervous!” whispered Flossie! “I hope none of the animals will get loose.”

      “Now, ladies and gentlemen,” called Tom Mason, appearing at the tent, “if you will just turn round the other way in your seats and face that ring we will give you an exhibition of cowboy life on the plains!”

      CHAPTER XV

      The Chariot Race

      Tom’s costume was a splendid imitation of a cowboy. He wore tan-colored overalls and a jumper, the jumper being slashed up at the sides like an Indian’s coat. On his head was a very broad sombrero, this hat having really come from the plains, as it belonged to a Western farmer who had lately moved to Meadow Brook.

      Presently Tom appeared again, this time riding the fiery Sable.

      “Hurrah! hurrah!” shouted the boys, as Tom drove into the ring like a major.

      Bert now stepped into the middle of the ring alongside of some soap boxes that were piled up there.

      “Now you see ladies and gentlemen,” began Bert, laughing a little at the show in broad daylight, “you see this (the soap boxes) is a mail coach. Our cowboy will rob the mail coach from his horse just as they used to do in the mountains of Arizona.”

      Snap went the whip, and away went Sable around the ring at a nice even canter. After a few turns around Tom urged his horse on a little until he was going on a steady run. Every one kept quiet, for most of Meadow Brook people had heard how Sable had run away some days before.

      “There ought to be music,” whispered Jack to Harry, for indeed the circus was so real it only lacked

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