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“I’m chored from mornin’ till night, an’ arfter I go to sleep I do some more chorin’ jist to keep my hand in.” Moses was in a distinctly peevish mood.,

Had he but dreamed on for an hour or so he would have returned, rested, refreshed, the cheery boy that helped to make the Bennett house a home. But a voice in the road above startled him. Only a word was spoken, a greeting; but it was surly and foreign, Italian.,

Half an hour later Charley went back to the disappointed remnants of the show gathered in Jimmy’s barn, and told them Mrs. Carter had said, “no more circus this day for Bess.” Buzz and his laughing Chinese had been hurried to safety. The Roc had shed a part of his false feathers, and was fast giving himself away as plain gander. The White Elephant had also become restive, and it was thought best to transfer the Fair Princess of Bombay from her howdah to terra firma. And the Goddess of Liberty, minus her car, and a part of her draperies, and plus a big smooch on her cheek, was somehow not very imposing. Various other livestock became weary or rebellious, and the Siamese Twins had to be severed to prevent their coming to blows.,

“What’s next?”

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“Mebbe she’s all right,” admitted the boy.,

Moses’ intuition regarding St. Elmo’s retreat proved to be correct, and it was a sadly dejected countenance on which he gazed when he looked into the cave. Tears, dirt, and the juice of Saskatoon berries mingled on the fair sleeping face of the child, until he seemed to be the very Cree Indian he had so often personated in his play. His long curls were tangled and matted with small twigs. His diminutive brown velvet coat displayed a large rent in the elbow through which oozed a pathetic-looking suppuration of pink and white checked shirt.,

The fairies, gnomes, and elves, danced, sang, and retired; elves and gnomes crouching close against trees and rocks, the fairies withdrawing only to reappear one by one as the music went on, here and there, high in the trees; and each had a tiny light on her brow. But just over Flora and Sun, poised and upheld by invisible wires, stood the Queen of the Fairies, crown, wand, and shoulders fire-tipped, her arms waving, her filmy draperies continually fluttering, fanned by an artificial breeze. Over all fell a rain of rose leaves.,

“You never give my cats a chance,” Billy complained.