The grass was all trodden hard beneath their feet, and everything seemed to smell of peanuts, that boys were carrying about in baskets, bawling out their wares—people eating out of the bags they had just bought, and scattering the shells to right and to left.
No one of the Peppers said a word about “peanuts” and they all tried not to look at the baskets, for they had settled that matter when they knew they were going to the circus.
Polly began it, and Ben helped her, getting the children together in a corner of the kitchen, “You know we haven’t any money to spend, and it will make Mamsie feel just dreadfully if we look as if we wanted things,” so they had all promised they wouldn’t look at the things. But now it was pretty hard work with so many baskets, and boys poking them in their faces. Didn’t the peanuts smell good though! At last Joel had to hold his little stubby nose tightly with his fingers. Then he suddenly dropped them.
“I’m going up on top,” he screamed, as several boys dashed by scrambling over the rows of boards that encircled the big ring, and he twitched himself free.
“No, you don’t,” said Ben, dashing after, “we’ve got to sit where our tickets say.”
But Joel wildly protested that he was going where those other boys were, who now on the tip top seat were laughing and jeering people down below, and acting dreadfully.
One of the circus men passing by, said “Jiminy! I wouldn’t want to hold that eel,” to Ben.
Joel turned his wild gaze down to the man, “I’m not an eel,” he said, and his black eyes blazed.
“You are,” said the man, looking back as he hurried off, “a slippery, squirmy old eel and I’ve a good mind to douse you into the fish-tank.”
“He sha’n’t,” roared Joel, and he beat his small fists together, “and I’m going after him, and smash him.”