“That’s too bad,” said the Irish woman, whose name was Mrs. Malony. “Sure but I’d like to see any one, not a friend, try to take Lightfoot away. He’d butt ’em with his horns.”
“Isn’t it too bad Tinkle didn’t have horns?” sighed Mabel, as she walked on.
“A pony with horns would be a funny one,” said her brother.
I wish I had time to tell you all that George and Mabel did at the circus and the many things they saw, from Tum Tum the jolly elephant to Mappo the merry monkey. They laughed at the clowns, ate popcorn and peanuts, giving some to the elephants, feeding a whole bag of peanuts to Tum Tum, though they did not know his name. But they were sure he was nice because he looked at them in such a funny, jolly way.
“Oh, look at the ponies!” cried Mabel, as the little horses trotted into the middle ring. There was Prancer and Tiny Tim, as well as others, and they were going to do their tricks.
“They are nice ponies,” said George, glancing at them, even though he and Mabel had said they would not look. “But not one of them is as nice as Tinkle.”
The ponies went through their tricks, doing their very best, and then, when the time came, Tinkle himself was led in to do his tricks alone, as of late he always did. Mabel and George were looking the other way just then, watching a man turn a somersault over the backs of Tum Tum and some other elephants, and at first they did not see Tinkle. But as George turned in time to watch the trick pony take the United States flag out of the box, and bring it to Mr. Drake the little boy cried:
“Oh, Mabel! See that pony!”
“Which one?” asked the little girl.
“There,” and George pointed. “Doesn’t he look just like Tinkle? He has four white feet and a white star on his head. Mabel, see, isn’t he just like our pony? Why—why!” cried George, standing up in his seat, and very much excited, “it is Tinkle! Oh, Mabel, it is Tinkle!”