“Of course; I said so. I have seen a camel. But if the man let the people see all his wild beasts they wouldn’t pay to go into his show.”
“Oh,” cried Singh, “that’s it. I never thought of that. Of course. But what are the people all crowding up for behind that last van?”
“Because it’s the end,” said the small boy who had spoken before.
“No; but there’s something they can see, for they are all pressing close up, and the boys are stooping down to look underneath.”
“Yes, and there’s a man with a whip trying to keep them back.”
That was all plain enough to view as the great van, drawn by four stout cart-horses, came nearer, with the whip-armed carter who walked by their side varying his position to cross round by the back, making-believe to use his whip and keep the boys from getting too close.
“Well, they can see something,” said Glyn, as the great vehicle came nearly abreast; and as it did the lad gripped his companion by the shoulder.
“Look, look!” he cried. “My word, it is queer!”
“What is?” said Singh excitedly.
“Two pairs of giants’ trousers walking underneath the van. There, can’t you see? Oh, isn’t it comic. And they don’t fit.”