About this time he came within sight of the Opera House, and tantalizing posters appeared of the "Greatest Extravaganza of the Century." He pulled Cuba into a walk, and sat there absorbing the wonders depicted; among the marvels were crowds of children dressed as butterflies, beautiful ladies marching in line, a man balancing a barrel on his feet, and—yes, there was the man in "skin-tights" walking on the rope!
A keen puff of wind brought Billy back to his senses, and as his longing eyes turned from the gorgeous show-bills they encountered the amused look of a gentleman who had just come out from the Opera House. He was so tall and fine-looking that Billy thought he must own the show.
"Some kindlin', sir?"
The gentleman shook his head. The posters still danced before Billy's eyes; if his mother could only see the show! The last chance seemed slipping away. Suddenly a bold idea presented itself. He got out of the wagon, and came up on the step.
"Couldn't you use a whole load, if I was to take it out in tickets?"
The man looked puzzled. "Take it out in tickets?" he repeated.
"Yes, sir," said Billy, "theayter tickets. Don't you own the show?"
The gentleman laughed. "Well, hardly," he said. "What do you want with more than one ticket?"
There was a certain sympathy in his voice, in spite of the fact that he was still laughing, and before Billy knew it he had told him all about it.
"How many tickets could yer gimme fer the load?" he asked, in conclusion.