"Six."
"Not enough," answered the proprietor, roughly, turning again to his lunch with the Columbine. "Get it broken again and come back; then perhaps we can talk business."
And the little clown went away; but he had hardly gone a few yards before his heart broke for the seventh time—because of the bitterness of the world.
Yet, being wise, he waited a day or two, living as best he could along the country roads, and then at length he came back about noon to the circus, and again the proprietor was eating lunch with the Columbine, and again he looked up, sullen and sneering, and said:
"Well?"
The clown explained that his heart had been broken for the seventh time.
"Good," said the circus proprietor. "Wait till I have eaten lunch and we will talk business."
And the clown sat at the side of the ring, and the proprietor and the Columbine ate and laughed as if he were not there.
At length, finishing a tankard of ale, and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, the circus proprietor arose and beckoned the clown to come to him.