“And the guinea-pig—oh, I forgot to tell you there was a perfectly splendid guinea-pig in the collection,” said Polly, not taking any notice of Ben; “and he said it big and loud in his natural voice, and the monkey shrieked it, and”—
“Oh! is there a dear sweet little monkey?” cried Phronsie in a transport. “O Polly! I want him to play with, I do.”
“Oh, no, Phronsie, you can’t,” said Polly hurrying on; “the Circus-man has to have him, you know. Well, and oh, dear me! every single one of those animals said, ‘How do you do, and how do you do, and how do you do again.’ And the man took one look at them and he said, ‘Pretty well, I thank you.’
“And the big man said, ‘You’re the man for me; and I give all these animals to you, for you are the only one who isn’t afraid. Now, march, and good-by.’ And the Circus-man rubbed his eyes and looked again, and there wasn’t any big man; all that was left was the long line of animals and crawling things. So down the mountain-side the procession went. And at the foot there were sixteen red carts with yellow borders, and a cunning little carriage drawn by ever and ever so many dear sweet ponies no bigger than dogs, and then in a minute, out from behind the trees, came rushing as many as a dozen, no, two dozen big horses with long tails. And they swept up to the Circus-man to have him scratch their noses.”
The Five Little Peppers now became dreadfully excited. And Joel jumped up. “Whoop-la!” he screamed, as he pranced around and around the group on the floor, stepping high, and slapping himself as he raced along. “Come on, Dave; this is the way I’d make ’em go, all those horses.”
“Polly, do you suppose we’ll ever see a Circus?” cried little Davie with shining eyes; “ever in all this world?”
“Ever in all this world?” hummed Phronsie, while Ben set his teeth tight together and looked at her. “Yes, indeed,” declared Polly confidently, with eyes only for Ben. “Don’t look so, Ben,” she cried; “we’ll see one sometime.”
“Polly always gets her flowers,” said little Davie in a moment, in a reflective way.
“And if we don’t ever get to see a really, truly Circus,” cried Polly impulsively, “we can hear all about it same’s we have already from Mr. and Mrs. Beebe. So just think what those children must have to do, who don’t ever have anybody to tell them about it as we have.” She folded her hands in her lap and was lost in thought.
“Whoop-la! Whoopity-la! G’lang!” cried Joel with an awful noise, making his steeds put forth all their best paces, around the little old kitchen. “And I’m so glad,” Polly was saying, “that Mr. and Mrs. Beebe did see a Circus when they went down to Rockport; it’s the greatest comfort. Now, if you don’t stop, Joel, I can’t tell the rest of the story;” “and you make so much noise we can’t hear anything,” said Ben.