The clown grinned.
"A very fine name!" he answered. "Bring out the Andalusian steed."
An attendant led out the trick mule, which, meekly enough, walked round the ring.
"Can you ride that?" asked the clown.
"Oh, yes, I can ride a bigger hoss than that."
"Mount, then, and away!"
Charlie held the mule, which stood very quiet and demure, while the boy was getting on. But no sooner was the boy on his back than he lifted his ears and dashed round the ring in such a lively way, making sudden turns and curves, that Jotham was soon clinging to him as pale as a sheet, with his arms closely clasped about the mule's neck, in momentary expectation of being thrown off. At this most critical point the clown shouted, "Now get up and stand on his back!"
Instead of doing this Jotham roared, "Stop him; take me off," in an extremity of terror.
At a signal the mule threw up his hind legs and the rider measured his length, more frightened than hurt, on the sawdust.
As he picked himself up Charlie came up to him.