All the people came out of their shops and offices and clapped generously. A light breeze floated out the flags, and made the gold fringe on the Snake Charmer’s cage wave and look rich and foreign. The band outdid itself; and as the forward end of the procession turned out of the street, a great cheer began behind them, grew and swelled, till even the youngest child knew “folks liked the circus.”
“To the park!” Billy shouted, his heart thumping with joy.
“The children will get too tired,” the Snake Charmer warned.
“No, we won’t!” came a dozen voices.
“Yes, yes; take us to the park, papa,” piped one half of the Siamese Twins.
“Of course they won’t be too tired! The kids have pluck.”
The Snake Charmer was silenced; for if the children had before this been tired, not one of them now but swelled with pride and fortitude at this praise from Billy.
All went well for some blocks. There was a flattering audience at each front door; a few honored the pageant by following. These were mostly mothers of the younger children, who knew the possibilities of such an aggregation of animals and boys.
But just before they were to enter the park Bouncer had his innings. A rabbit, startled, sprang from under the roadside bushes and ran down the street toward the open country. Bouncer’s tail went up. He dashed out of line, overturned the Polar Bear’s cage, and was off after his quarry, barking wildly, with the fast disrupting cage dangling at his heels. The Polar Bear, liberated, flew home like a streak of white light. The trained dogs broke from their struggling boy leaders, carrying with them gleaming bits of red paper uniform.
The two steeds attached to the car of the Goddess of Liberty, also deserted their task, and marked their path with bright bits of paper and bunting.