Part 30 (1/2)

”Oh, you mean the circus,” said Mrs. Brown. ”No, I haven't seen any elephants yet. The big wagons just started to go past.”

”Then let's hurry up our breakfast and watch for the elephants and the tigers,” cried Bunny, greatly worried lest he miss any of the animals.

”You have plenty of time,” said Uncle Tad, who was out near the back steps of the automobile, sorting his fish lines and hooks. ”The circus has just started to go past. Those wagons have in them the tent poles, the canvas for the tents, the things for the men to eat and the big stoves. These are always unloaded first--in fact, they are sent on ahead of the rest of the show.

”Not until later in the morning will the animals and the other wagons come along. The circus must have unloaded over at Kirkwell,” and he pointed to a railroad station about a mile away. ”The tents are going up on the other side of this town, I heard some of the circus drivers say.”

”Oh, won't we have fun watching them go past?” cried Sue. ”I wonder if they'll have a parade? If they do, and it goes past our house--I mean our automobile--we can see it better than anybody, can't we?”

”Yes. But the parade won't come this far out into the country,” said Uncle Tad. ”It will go through the streets of the town.”

”Where are you going?” asked Bunny, suddenly looking at the old soldier.

”I thought I'd go fis.h.i.+ng over to Blue Lake. Looked yesterday as if there were plenty of fish there. Want to go with me, Bunny Brown?”

”Huh? An' the circus comin' to town?” asked Bunny, clipping the end off his words. ”Say, Mother, aren't we going to the circus?” he asked quickly.

”Well, I didn't hear anything about it,” said Mrs. Brown slowly.

”Can't you take us, Uncle Tad?” pleaded Sue, for she, as much as did her brother, wanted to see the big show.

”Well, I suppose I _could_ put off my fis.h.i.+ng till another day,” said Uncle Tad slowly. ”Are you _sure_ you two want to go?”

”Are we!” cried Bunny.

”Oh, I want to go--so much!” and Sue showed just how much by putting her arms around Uncle Tad's neck and hugging him as hard as she could. That was her way of showing ”how much.”

”Well, if it's as much as that I guess I'll have to take you,” laughed Uncle Tad. ”Mind you, I don't want to go myself,” and he looked at Mrs.

Brown in a queer way. ”I don't care anything about a circus--never did in fact. But if an old man has to give up his fis.h.i.+ng trip, just to take two children to one of the wild animal shows, why I guess it will have to be done, that's all. But really I don't want to go,” and he shook his head very seriously.

”Oh, Uncle Tad!” cried Sue. ”Don't you want to see the elephants?”

”Nope,” and the old soldier kept on shaking his head ”crossways,” as Bunny said.

”And don't you want to see the lions?”

”Nope.”

”Nor the tigers?”

”Nope.”

”Not even the camels and the monkeys and the men jumping over horses'

backs, nor the giraffes with their long necks--don't you want to see _any_ of them?” Sue was talking faster and faster all the while.

Uncle Tad did not say anything, but a funny look came into his eyes, and Bunny was almost sure the old soldier was laughing on one side of his face at Mother Brown. Then Bunny cried:

”Oh, Sue! He's just fooling! He wants to go as much as we do!”