“Now look here, Joe,” Ben broke through the crowd to him, “you’ll keep away from the cages, or I’ll hold you every single minute.”
“Oh, I don’t want to be held,” howled Joel, squirming to get free, “don’t hold me, Ben; I’ll be good.”
“I shall hold you,” said Ben firmly, “unless you’ll promise not to touch the cages. Aren’t you ashamed, Joel?” he said in a lower voice. “Everybody is looking at you.”
“I want to see the bears,” roared Joel. All the world might be looking at him. He was in such an anguish that he didn’t care. He must see the bears!
“Well, promise,” said Ben, “and I’ll let you go.”
“I can’t see ’em,” fretted Joel, “unless I go close.”
“Yes, you can; nobody else touches the cages.”
Joel swept the crowd with his black eyes, disdainfully.
“Just look at Mamsie,” Ben leaned over and whispered this into Joel’s ear. Mrs. Pepper, holding Phronsie’s hand, was looking at him. Her face was white, but she smiled.
“I won’t go near those bears,” said Joel. “O dear!” He tried not to cry, but it was no use. The tears dripped down through the fingers clapped up to his face, and trailed all down his calico blouse.