Before Harriet could even reply, he had provided tickets for all three—tickets which cost sixpence each. He really was a most generous young man.
“But,” said Harriet, turning to Pattie, “won’t this make me dreadfully late?”
“Late?” cried Mr Frost, overhearing her. “Not a bit of it. I tell you it will be over in no time at all. Here, take a hand each, girls, and we’ll squeeze well to the front. We mustn’t miss the beginning of the fun. The fat lady comes on first of all with the kangaroo; oh, it will be screamingly funny!”
The next minute, they were inside the tent where the great performance was to take place.
They were inside with a crush of people behind them, and Harriet forgot everything else. The entertainment was of the breathless order; before you had time to recover from one astounding surprise, another still more astounding followed on its heels. The fat lady’s performance was nothing at all to that done by the man with two heads—he really managed these double appendages with the greatest cleverness, nodding and winking simultaneously with both, and causing the people to shriek, holding their sides with mirth.
“He hasn’t two heads at all, you know,” said Mr Frost, “but it’s wonderfully cleverly managed for all that.”
Harriet and Pattie were almost sorry. They would much rather have believed that the man was possessed of the double head.
“Oh!” said Pattie, with a gasp. “I was thinking what a lot he could do if they were really two heads.”
Mr Frost roared with laughter.
“It would be convenient, wouldn’t it?” he said. “He could eat with one of his mouths, you know, and talk with the other; and he could keep one of his brains for amusement, and one for lessons. I say, though, let’s look at this! Here’s the elephant with the dancing dogs on his back!”