“Do let me draw it!” cried Fergus.
“Not here, my boy, or they would think a conspiracy was breaking out. Ha!” as a sudden blare of trumpets broke out as they reached the station gate.
“Oh, is it for him?” cried Felix, who had been instructed in Fergus’s triumph.
“See, the conquering hero comes,
Sound the trumpets, beat the drums!”
said the General.
Fergus actually coloured crimson, but the colour was deepened as he muttered “Bosh!” while two piebald ponies, drawing the drummers and trumpeters in fantastic raiment, preceded an elephant shrouded in scarlet and gold trappings, with two or three figures making contortions on his back, and followed by a crowned and sceptred dame in blue, white, and gold, perched aloft on a car drawn by four steeds in glittering caparisons.
“Will you mount it, Fergus?” asked his uncle. “You did not expect such a demonstration.”
Fergus bit his lip. It was hard to be teased instead of exalted; but Fely and he were absorbed in the pink broadsides that the lady in the car was scattering.
CIRCUS—THIS NIGHT—ROTHERWOOD PARK.
The Sepoy’s Revenge!
Thrilling Incidents!
Sagacious Elephant!
Dance of Arab Coursers!!
Acrobatic Feats!! &c., &c.
“Oh, daddy! daddy! do take me to see it!”