When Billy came through the side of the tent, he found himself near the tent where the horses and ponies were kept. Smelling corn and oats, he walked in, and while talking to his particular friends, the Shetland ponies, he helped himself to their supper.
While in this tent he became acquainted with a little Mexican Burroetta that was destined to become his closest companion and friend in the future. The Burroetta was just his height, of a mouse color, with a white streak down its spine and four white stockinged feet, but the most peculiar thing about its looks was its exceedingly long ears,—ears that were as long as Billy's horns. It was the cutest, smartest little creature you ever saw, and had most beautiful, large, liquid eyes. It looked as mild as a dove, but was quite deceiving for it was as full of the "old scratch" as Billy himself. It must have been this kindred spirit that drew them together from the first.
That night the people had come to the circus; looked at the animals and passed into the performing tent; several of the things on the programme had been gone through with and it was Billy's turn to perform next and still Billy had not been found.
Every man and woman on the place had been looking for him, but though they had hunted everywhere and inquired of every one if he had seen a large, white goat with long whiskers, no one had seen him and they were about to substitute something else for his performance when one of the men, coming into the ponies' tent for something, saw Billy lying down by the little Burroetta.
"Here Billy, you rascal, come along with me. We have been looking everywhere for you."
And Billy was led off and made to go through his performance. But to-night he was cross and still angry with the ring-master. So when about through with his imitation of the professor, he leaned over and took a mouthful of the leaves of the book and chewed them up. Then he stood up in his chair with his gown and spectacles on, and before anyone could stop him he had jumped down and ran out of the tent, with the spectacles still on his nose and his gown trailing after him.
The excitement and confusion this caused in the circus knew no bounds. And when the children discovered that the astrologer was nothing more or less than an ordinary goat, and that his voice had come from a man, who was a ventriloquist, hid under the platform, their disgust was complete and it broke up the circus performance for that night.
Billy chewed, wriggled and pulled at his gown until he tore it off and then he kicked up his heels and disappeared in the darkness outside; and he was careful to keep in the shadows away from the light, so no one could see him, for he had sense enough to know that he had done wrong and would be punished if caught.