es. Hurrah, there was surely to be some
entertainment!

I got to school eleven minutes late. A normal-school pupil, Mr.
Holmesland, had the arithmetic class that morning. He sat on the
platform with his hand under his cheek supporting his big heavy head,
and looked at me reproachfully as I came in. I slipped in behind the
rack where all the outside things hung, to take off my things, and to
finish the last mouthful of my bread and butter.

Pooh, I never bother myself a bit about Mr. Holmesland. I walked boldly
out and took my seat. Another long reproachful look from the platform.

"Do you know what time it is, Inger Johanne?"

"Yes, but I couldn't possibly come before, Mr. Holmesland, because I had
to attend to some one who was sick."

"Indeed,--is your mother sick?"

"Oh, no"--he didn't ask anything more, and I was glad of it.

"What example are you doing?" I asked Netta, who sat beside me.

"This," she showed me her slate, but above the example was written in
big letters: "_The circus has come!_"

The arithmetic hour was frightfully long. At recess we talked of
nothing but the circus. Netta had seen an awfully fat, black-haired
lady, in a fiery red dress, and a fat pug dog on her arm; they certainly
belonged to the circus troupe, for there was no such dark lady and no
such dog in the whole town. Mina had seen a little slender boy, with
rough black hair and gold earrings--and hadn't I myself seen the
director of the whole concern? It was queer that I was the one who had
most to tell, though, as you know, all I had seen of the circus troupe
was the strange man with Policeman Weiby as I passed them on the hill.

We had sat down to dinner at home; Karsten hadn't come; we didn't know
whether it was the circus or our having "_lu-de-fisk_" for dinner that
kept him away.

Suddenly the dining-room door was thrown open, and there he stood in the
doorway, very red in the face and so excited he could hardly speak.

"Can the circus-riders keep their horses in our barn?" he asked, all out
of breath. You know we had a big, old barn that was never used. Karsten
had to repeat what he had said; we always have to speak awfully clearly
to Father; he won't stand any slovenly talk.

Father and Mother looked at each other across the table.

"Well, I don't see any objection," said Father.

"But is it worth while to have all that hub-bub in our barn?" said
Mother. I was burning with eagerness as I listened.

"It is probably