"This is Neale's uncle, Dot. Mr. Sorber has come here to see him."
At that Dot came forward and put her morsel of hand into the showman's enormous fist.
"You are very welcome, Neale's uncle," she said, bashfully. "We think Neale is a very nice boy, and if we had a boy in our family we'd want one just like Neale—wouldn't we, Tess?"
"Ye-es," grudgingly admitted the older girl. "If we had to have a boy. But, you know, Dot, we haven't got to have one."
Mr. Sorber chuckled. "Don't you think boys are any good, little lady?" he asked Tess.
"Not so very much," said the frank Tess. "Of course, Neale is different, sir. He—he can harness Billy Bumps, and—and he can turn cartwheels—and—and he can climb trees—and—and do lots of things perfectly well. There aren't many boys like him."
"I guess there ain't," agreed Mr. Sorber. "And does he ever tell you how he was took into the Lions' Den, like a little Dan'l, when he was two, with spangled pants on him and a sugar lollypop to keep him quiet?"
"Mercy!" gasped Agnes.
"In a lions' den?" repeated Tess, while Dot's pretty eyes grew so round they looked like gooseberries.
"Yes, Ma'am! I done it. And it made a hit. But the perlice stopped it. Them perlice," said Mr. Sorber, confidentially, "are allus butting in where they ain't wanted."