ood on
it. "I want to be something else. I won't play if I've got to be a
trained seal any more."

"All right," Danny acquiesced, after a moment's thought, "you can be the
audience. We need an audience to clap their hands and holler so's we'll
know the crowd likes us and we're doin' all right. This circus can get
along without no trained seal."

"I don't want to be the audience," replied Jerry dismally, seeing that,
as the audience, he would have nothing to do with the circus.

Nora now put in a word. "Let's count out," she said, "and the one who's
counted out will be the audience."

"I guess not," replied Danny emphatically, but after Celia Jane had
whispered something in his ear, he considered a moment, looked at Jerry
and then whispered something to Nora.

Nora looked at Jerry and counted on her fingers rapidly. Then she
counted on her fingers again, after a quick glance at Danny. She nodded
to Danny, who said:

"All right, whoever's counted out will be the audience. You count out,
Nora." Starting with Danny and pointing to a child in rotation with each
word, Nora chanted and counted:

"'One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.
All good children go to heaven.
O-u-t spells out.'"

Her finger was pointing at Jerry.

"Jerry's out!" cried Celia Jane, skipping about. "He's the audience!"

"I won't be no audience," said Jerry.

"You'll have to be," asserted Danny, "you was counted out."

"I won't be! I won't play!" cried Jerry. He threw down his carpet-rag
balloon, took off the gunny-sack apron, tossed it on top of the balloon
and ran to the house.

"Cry baby!" shouted Danny after him, but Jerry did not even wait to
refute that charge, for he knew he was in danger of proving it if he
remained out there a moment longer.

Jerry felt the hot tears start to come as the screen door slammed after
him. He dashed them angrily out of his eyes and ran up the stairs to the
room he shared with Danny and Chris. If Mother 'Larkey had been at home
and not away sewing for Mrs. Moran, he would have gone to her in his
bitter disappointment, sure of finding comfort in her arms as he had so
many times.

It was not fair for Danny to take the part of the elephant away from him
and not even let him play it for a teeny little while, as he had
promised he would. For two cents he would run away as he had from the
man with the--the scarred face. He looked quickly around, half-fearful,
as always, that _that_ man m