"Isn't she just?" said William.
All the while the majestic ring-master stood in the centre of the ring twirling his moustachios and flicking his long, curling whip.
Then a man brought her a white horse, and she raced round the ring, leaping gracefully from horse to horse at full gallop. Oh, the dreadful moment when William thought she might fall. He would have leapt from his seat and saved her, dying, perhaps, in the attempt. His thoughts lingered fondly on the scene. Then she leapt through the paper hoop again and again, landing gracefully upon the black or white back. William grew impatient for the time when he should be old enough to be a clown and marry her. The thought of the dancing-class had faded altogether from his mind. The thoughts of youth may be long, long thoughts, but its memories are distinctly short.
Then the clown came on again. How they roared at him. He tried to get on to a horse and he couldn't; he tried to stand on a chair and he couldn't; he tried to do conjuring tricks and he dropped everything: he tried to walk across the ring and he slipped at every step. He fell over his trousers; he fell over the ring-master; he quarrelled with the ring-master; the ring-master knocked him down; he said the funniest things William had ever heard in all his life. William was literally exhausted with laughing; Grandfather Moore was hoarse. Occasionally his cackling laugh cracked feebly on the top note.
Open-mouthed and tense they watched a collie dog carry in its puppy, nurse it, give it a bottle of milk and put it in its cradle; watched the elephant pick out numbers at the direction of the ring-master; watched the monkey ride a bicycle and pelt the clown with sawdust. But the last item was the most stupendous. It was called "The Prairie on Fire." There were real flames—red, rolling flames; and through them, and in headlong flight before them, came cattle and horses and buggies, whose occupants stood up lashing on the horses and casting glances of terror at the flames. The golden-haired beauty was wringing her hands in the last buggy but one. The monkey was on the seat with the driver.
"Crumbs!" gasped William.
Grandfather Moore was beyond words.
Almost dazed and drunk with happiness they went out into the darkness at the end. They walked in silence till they were almost at the gate of William's house.
Then William spoke.
"I don't care what they do to me. It was worth it—jolly well worth it."