"Shut your eyes. Are they shut?"
"Yes," said Jerry, closing them so tight that he saw funny little green and red and purple streaks of light.
"Keep them shut. Don't open them once till I tap you on the back twice. Then you count to twenty, and if I don't tap you on the back again, open your eyes and you will be in the circus. Then you walk right ahead till you come to the first row of seats where there will be a lot of children and you just pick out any empty seat you see and sit there. Do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Jerry.
"Eyes shut," commanded the clown. "Come with me."
He led Jerry quite a distance away from the tent, Jerry thought, and then had him sit down on the ground so that the clown was directly behind him.
"Now," said Whiteface, "you are going to be carried into the circus, but don't open your eyes till I tap twice on your back and you have counted to twenty."
"I won't," promised Jerry.
"If you see me in the circus," said the clown, "you can speak to me if you want to. No, don't open your eyes."
For Jerry, in his eagerness to assure Whiteface that he would speak to him if he saw him in the circus, was about to look up at him. For fear that he yet might do so, he shut his eyes tighter, till they hurt, and covered them with both hands.