“The Monkey he’s a friend of mine, In fact, I’ve heard it stated That me and he and he and me Is distantly related. I guess it’s true, for I can do Most all the tricks that he cuts, And me and he and he and me Is awful fond of peanuts!”

Thus sang Alf as, arm in arm with Tom, he swaggered across the bridge on the way to Greenburg and the circus. Behind walked Dan and Gerald and Paul Rand. Still further behind came more of Yardley, and further ahead were others. Yardley was turning out en masse for the circus. Cuts had been granted in all afternoon recitations and here was a half-holiday with nothing to do but have a good time! And every fellow was determined to have it.

“Next verse!” shouted Dan.

“No, chorus first! All together now!”
“I’d like to be a Monkey monk And live up in a tree; I’d like to be a big Baboon, An Ape or Chimpanzee![218] I’d wear a monkey-jacket and Eat cocoanuts and candy; I’d wave the Stars and Stripes and be A Monkey Doodle Dandy!”

“Next verse!” commanded Dan again.

“Oh, behave,” ordered Tom. “Cut out the comedy.”

“He’s jealous of my beautiful voice,” said Alf. “Oh, look at the pretty pictures. I shan’t go another step until I’ve seen all the pretty pictures.”

So they stopped in front of a board fence which was gaudily adorned with circus posters while Alf feasted his eyes.

“It’s a good idea, you know,” he explained philosophically, “to enjoy the pictures, because they’re fifty times better than the circus. Now, Gerald, there, in his innocence, doubtless expects to see seven elephants doing a cake-walk and balancing themselves on red and blue seesaws, like that. But the fact is that there’ll be just two elephants, one old, old elephant, moth-eaten and decrepit, and one extremely young and frolicsome elephant about the size of a Shetland pony. And the old elephant won’t do much because he’s too aged, and the young elephant will just look on because he’s too young and tender for work. Lies, lies, beautiful lies!”

[219]

“Oh, come on,” laughed Dan. “We won’t get any seats if we don’t hustle.”

“Wait, wait until I see the boa-constrictor and the be-oot-shus lady. She thinks he’s a new set of furs. See the way she’s wrapping him around her neck? Someone ought to tell her; it’s a shame. I’ll undeceive her when I arrive, all right, all right. And, oh, the cunning little zebras! Wouldn’t you love to have a cunning little zebra to ride on, Dan? My, oh my! I’d ride to Chapel on it every morning and hitch it to the statue of Apollo outside Room D. And, fellows, fellows! Observe, pray, the marvelous—”

But he was dragged resisting away.

“Say, didn’t you ever just cry to be in a circus, Tom?” he inquired as they took up their journey again. “I have. Why, I used to think that if I could wear pink tights and hang from a trapeze by my toes at the top of a circus tent I’d be happy for life! If I ever get very, very wealthy I shall have a circus of my own, Tom. And I’ll let Dan and Gerald come in free, but you will have to pay, Tom, because you’re so hard-hearted and wouldn’t let me see the pictures; you’ll have to pay all of seventeen nice bright pins!”

“Oh, shut up,” growled Tom. “Folks’ll think you’re dippy.”

[220]

“Great scheme!” Alf exclaimed radiantly. “When we get to the tent I’ll put my cap on inside out and make faces and jibber and be a Wild Man from Wissining! And you chaps can collect dimes from the audience and we’ll go up to Parker’s afterwards and buy ice-cream sodas. Marvelous! Marvelous!”

The circus occupied a waste lot on the farther side of the town, and it was a good half-hour’s walk from Yardley. But they reached it in plenty of time to view the animals in the outer tent before it was time to repair to the circus proper. And Alf had a glorious time and kept the others in a continual howl of laughter. Several other Yardley fellows joined their party and listened convulsed while Alf addressed the rhinoceros.

“Beautiful Beast!” declaimed Alf. “Child of the trackless jungle! Denizen of the African waste, we salute you! (Salute, you idiots!) Thou art indeed handsome! Thou art verily the Tom Dyer of the Animal Kingdom. Thou art even more so and then some, for Tom has no horn on his nose. Even thy beautiful feet resemble his and thou hastest the same simple grandeur of contour, whatever that is. And thou also hastest a noble grouchiness of expression which remindest us of our dear Tom. Hast a name, Little One? No? Sayest thou so? Alack and well-a-day![221] Thou shalt be named and right nobly, O Timorous Nightingale of the Dark Continent! Hereafter thou shalt be known as Tom. Arise, Tom, and chortle thy glee and dance flitsomely! See him dance flitsomely, fellows?”

The rhinoceros neither altered attitude nor expression, however, and Alf was dragged away to see the Royal Bengal Tiger, whom he addressed as “Kitty.”

“Say, Tom,” said Dan presently, when they had completed the circuit of the tent, “I’ll bet all Broadwood is here. I’ve seen dozens of fellows already.”

“Really?” asked Tom, with a grin. “Say, we’ll have some fun, then.” He acquainted the others with Dan’s news and a howl of glee arose.

“We’ll get our crowd all together,” said Alf, “and have a little cheering to waken things up a bit. Come on.”

So they made their way into the tent, which was already half filled, and chose seats in an unoccupied section. Then:

“Yardley, this way!” was the cry. “Yardley, this way!”

Yardley responded quickly and in two minutes that section of the stand was filled with some two hundred youths.

“Now, fellows,” announced Alf, who had constituted[222] himself Master of Ceremonies, “let’s give a cheer for the elephant!”

They gave it; and followed up with one for the tiger; and followed that up with one for the monkeys.

“And now, fellows,” Alf cried gleefully, “let’s have one for Broadwood!”

So they cheered Broadwood—after the monkeys—amidst much laughter from their own section and the adjoining ones. No laughter, however, came from the stand across the tent where Broadwood was concentrating her forces. A minute afterwards Broadwood accepted the challenge and began cheering, following the cheers with football songs. And in the midst of that there was a blare of music from the red-coated band and the grand procession appeared. Yardley applauded mightily and cheered everything and everybody that passed. And then comparative quiet returned and the exhibitions in the rings began.

It wasn’t a very large circus, but it was a good one, and the fellows enjoyed it all hugely. When the trick donkey appeared with the leading clown seated on his back belaboring him with a bladder on the end of a stick Paul Rand made the hit of the afternoon by bawling loudly;

“Whoa, Broadwood!”

Even Broadwood thought that rather funny and[223] laughed. But they tried for revenge later by dubbing the trick elephant “Yardley.” And when he finally managed to get all four feet onto a big red and yellow ball of wood they demanded; “Touchdown, Yardley, touchdown!”

And so the performance drew triumphantly to its close while attendants passed around selling tickets for the “Grand Concert and Minstrel Entertainment to begin immediately after the show.”

Gerald, who had had a wonderful time all afternoon, leaned forward and begged Dan to remain and see the minstrel show. But Alf, who overheard, said;

“It isn’t worth the price, Gerald. You stay with the crowd and you’ll have lots more fun.”

“Why?” Gerald asked curiously. But Al............