"Will yo', honey lamb? So yo' won't let ole black Dinah get hurted, eh? Well, honey, lamb, I'd gib yo' all a hug but mah hands am all flour," and Dinah held them up for Freddie to see.
"Never mind, you can hug me some other time—you can hug me twice to make up for this," said Freddie. "Now you'll come to the circus, won't you?"
"I—I'll see, honey lamb," Dinah half-promised.
Later Mrs. Bobbsey told the colored cook there would be no danger, and when Dinah learned that Uncle Daniel was going, as well as one of his hired men, she made no more objections.
The day of the circus came, bright and sunny. Everyone was up early in the farm-house, for Uncle Daniel said they wanted to be in time to see the morning parade. Then they would eat their dinner, which they would take with them, as though it were a picnic, and go to the show in the afternoon.
"Oh, I wish papa were here!" sighed Nan, as she and Bert left the breakfast table.
"Why, you're not afraid, are you?" he asked.
"No, only I'd like him to see the show," she said. Nan was always thoughtful for her father.
"Yes, it would be nicer if he could come with us," agreed Bert. And then he forgot all about it, because he and Harry had a discussion as to whether an elephant or a hippopotamus could eat the most hay.
Work on the farm was almost forgotten that circus day. Uncle Daniel and the hired man did what had to be done, and then the horses were hitched to the big wagon, which was filled with straw.