'Ha'e ye a pictur' o' the doorie?'
'I have that. Wait a minute.'
They did wait, while two men came forward and proceeded to put up a poster of a terrible-looking dragon, bigger and uglier than that which St George of Merrie England was supposed to have slain. When about the same time the roaring of some strange wild-beast was heard coming from near the bear's enclosure the boys were awed into silence, and one or two proposed going off to play in a neighbouring field. But presently, with a strong rope about its neck, the end of which appeared to be held back by all the men in the camp, the fearsome monster himself stalked awkwardly forth into the open—an alligator or dragon-like animal, with a mouth that could have swallowed a calf. The noisy boys were now paralysed with fear. They found their feet, however, when the beast opened his great red mouth, with its rows of sabre teeth, and roared like a lion. The workmen dropped their hammers and bolted, two fisher-wives with creels on their backs fled screaming, and the boys were off like March dust.
The dooroocoolie was a dread reality then. And never after this was the camp annoyed by the yells of naughty boys at play.
The dooroocoolie was often to be heard but very seldom seen. It was firmly believed in, nevertheless, by the good country people far and near, and had become in time a capital advertisement for the show.
Stronger palisades were placed round what was supposed to be the animal's enclosure, but he was not allowed to come out. There was a peep-hole, however, through which any one coming to the show about dusk and staying for the evening's entertainment could have a look at the awful monster lying apparently asleep.
How many of Biffins Lee's company, or his 'properties' as he called them, were in the secret it is quite impossible to say; but in case this part of the story should seem to be mere romance it is as well to explain how the dreaded dooroocoolie was got up and placed on the boards, so to speak.
The antediluvian reptile, then, was merely an automaton, its skin pumped full of air like an india-rubber tire, and its springs wound up to set him agoing. Lee had a large gramophone with a very loud lion's roar record on it, and this was the dreaded dooroocoolie's voice. It had cost Lee some money and trouble to get that record from a German Zoo, but it must be confessed it was very effective.
On this lovely August forenoon Antony had heard the wondrous beast roaring, and marvelled not a little.
But Lotty was sent off to tell him, and explain all about it, after enjoining secrecy.