"Yes, poor lad, he's worthy of better things, and would make a name for himself some day if he got the chance. He ought to be back at school. It's hard luck on him to have his education broken off just when he was beginning to do so brilliantly. A nice lad too—a very nice lad—one of the nicest lads I know," muttered the old doctor, half to himself, as the car sped up the hill, and the sound of Bevis's blows on the apple tree grew fainter and fainter, then died away behind them.
CHAPTER XVI
Trotman's Circus
One morning, towards the end of March, as the day girls were walking home from school, they came across a bill-sticker pasting a flaming red poster upon a hoarding. Naturally they stopped to look. The advertisement was headed:
"Trotman's Circus & Menagerie", and set forth that on Monday next the famous show would visit Durracombe for one day only, and would give two performances, at 3 p.m. and 8 p.m., introducing the latest novelties and sensational displays. Here was an excitement for the sleepy little town. It was years since any travelling circus had come that way, and very few of the children had seen elephants, performing sea-lions, trick-horses, gymnasts, North American Indian riders, or any of the marvels set down in the programme. Of course all the juvenile population was a-thrill at the prospect. The day girls at The Moorings carried the news to the boarders, and the arrival of the wonderful show at once became the most important date in the school calendar. Trotman's Circus had rather a bad reputation for missing its appointments, and, as it had once before advertised its advent but had failed to turn up, people declared they would not believe in it until they actually saw the procession marching into the town.
"You'll take us if it really comes, won't you?" begged the boarders at The Moorings.
Miss Pollard would not commit herself.
"I must hear something about it first," she said guardedly. "These travelling shows aren't always very select."
"It's a wonderful programme," urged Iva, who had seen the posters.
"That doesn't guarantee it from being extremely vulgar," returned Miss Pollard.