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St. Elmo willingly consented. His mind was still running on the wonderful story Betty had told him. Perhaps the fairies would show themselves now Betty had gone. A few moments before, Moses had thrown down his hoe and departed to the barn, so the little boy was quite alone. He stood eagerly watching the sunflower patch where the fairies had appeared on at least one occasion. Bess’s coming launched the procession. People in the vicinity who had not before known of the presence of a circus, knew it now. Everybody talked at once, and every living thing made its own kind of a noise. Billy as Master of Ceremonies had his hands full, his voice full too, one might say. This threatened catastrophe had considerable weight with St. Elmo who, in spite of Betty’s discouraging words, still had a lurking hope that he too might be privileged to see the “faywies” some day. Although he was badly handicapped in being a boy, yet in some miraculous manner there might be an exception made in his favor..

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“Now Mosey, you be ticket man at the gate an’ I’ll hev the circus all ready,” cried Betty bounding into the house in the shortest possible time after the departure of the elderly merrymakers. “Jimmy.” “Why, I’d planned a big stock concern, like business men. We’ll build a railroad, telegraph line—that comes first, though; we’ll have gold and copper mines, and a wharf. And next we’ll launch the steamer we’ve been making.” “You’re a plucky kid, all right,” he replied, touched more than he would have admitted. “I won’t hurt the dog if you do as I tell you.” He looked for a cord or rope, but found none, and pulled from his pocket a red handkerchief. “Tie this around his neck; let one end hang down.”.