"Perhaps it's the coachyneel in his insides," whispered Susy.
We pondered over this suggestion for a few moments, and it certainly seemed reasonable. When Harry disappeared down the street, walking slowly, and holding to the fence, we decided that it was only a question of a few hours with him. The incident cast a gloom over us, which was not dispelled until Joe Carter said:—
"Did you go to the side-show?"
"No," answered Susy; "my mother says side-shows are horrid."
"They ain't. This was great. There was a lady without any body,—just head and shoulders sitting in a glass plate, an' there was a man that would let you stick pins in him, an' there were some grave-robbing hyenas—"
"Poo!" said Susy, "I saw some hyenas in the animal tent, an' we stayed to the concert an'—"
"Yes, I know," persisted Joe Carter, "but those hyenas in the animal tent weren't grave-robbing ones. Now these,—" and he entered into some grewsome details about the hyenas that made Susy regretfully admit that the side-show must have had its good points.
"But there was a sea-lion," she reflected, "havin' his supper when we came out of the concert, an' he sat up on a board, an' the man tossed him fish, an' he roared lots louder than the lions, an' we saw the giraffes—"
"That's nothin'" said Joe; "so did I."
Susy paid no attention,—she was in full swing of narration.