"Is it possible?"
"Yes, and as my own boy is so far away I shall have to be a sort of mother to you this season. You have no mother, have you?"
"No. My mother is dead," answered the lad in a low voice, lowering his eyes.
"I thought as much. Mothers don't like to have their boys join a circus; but, if they knew what a strict, wholesome life a circus performer has to lead, they would not be so set against the circus. Don't you think, taking it all in all, that we are a pretty good sort?" smiled Dimples.
"I wish everyone were as good as circus folks," the boy made answer so earnestly as to bring a pleased smile to the face of his companion.
"You shall have a lesson today for that, if you wish."
"Do I?"
"Then run along and get on your togs. As soon as the performance is over we will get out my ring horse and put in an hour's work."
"Thank you, thank you!" glowed Phil as Mrs. Robinson rolled up her work. "I'll be out in a few moments."
Full of pleasurable anticipation, Phil ran to the dressing tent and began rummaging in his trunk for his working tights. These he quickly donned and hurried back to the paddock. There he found Dimples with her ring horse, petting the broad-backed beast while he nibbled at the grass.