Billy boy, Billy boy?”
“Who is that? I do not recognize the voice, but it may be some of my old friends from the Circus,” and knowing that the voice issued from a tent near by, he promptly stuck his head under the canvas side and took a look about.
Billy Whiskers, as you already know, had a very large bump of curiosity, and tents were no mystery to him after his long experience of the summer just gone.
“Nothing there,” he quickly decided, when from the other side of the tent came the inquiry in a sing-song, high falsetto:
“Oh, where have you been,
Billy boy, Billy boy?
Oh, where have you been,
Charming Billy?”
By this time Billy’s eyes commenced to bulge with wonder, for he was as susceptible to flattery as any.
“I wonder which of my friends is playing this joke. Come out, old fellow, and give me a fair chance,” he demanded.