"Hear the band!" he shouted. "Hurrah! The parade's coming!"
XXI
THE CIRCUS PARADE
The crash and blare of the circus band came nearer and nearer. Johnnie Green craned his neck out of the carryall, as it stood at the side of Main Street, and tried to get a glimpse of the parade.
Old dog Spot did not howl again, but stole out beside the bays and looked up the street too.
Soon a man with a tall, shiny hat on his head rode a proud, prancing horse around a corner. And behind him six more horses with gay plumes on their bridles made a wide turn as they swung into view. On top of the high red wagon that they drew sat the band, all in red suits and playing away like mad.
Spot couldn't help whining. Although the bandsmen were playing the liveliest air they knew, music always made Spot sad. And he was glad when the band wagon had passed on.
Other wagons, blazoned with red and gold, followed.
Old dog Spot's hair began to rise along his back and he sniffed, growling. He had noticed a strange mixture of the queerest odors. He didn't know, for a moment, whether to run away or not.
"Oh, see the tiger!" Johnnie Green shouted. "And the lions! And the monkeys! And the bear!"