When You Were a Boy

by Edwin L. Sabin

In the dressing-room reigned despair and lamentation.

“’Tain’t fair!” wailed Tom, hotly. “I was goin’ to do some of those things myself.”

“So was I!” declared Nixie.

Snoopie was now juggling balls while traversing the official tight rope stretched between two of the saw-horses.

“Make him come in, Hen!” you called.

Hen snapped his whip at Snoopie’s bare legs, and brought him to the boards.

“Quit, will you!” snarled Snoopie. “Don’t you go whippin’ me, or I’ll paste you!”

“You darned old fool!” you scolded.

He wiggled his ears—wiggled them much more than Fat could his—and twitched his scalp, accommodatingly turning to right and to left so that all might see.

Then, breathless, crimson, perspiring, he walked on his hands into the dressing-room.