dressed in their best spangled
velvet suits. Then came what Billy thought to be the best thing in
the procession, a golden chariot drawn by twelve Shetland ponies,
each pony ridden by a little boy postilion, in scarlet velvet;
while in the chariot sat a beautiful, little, golden-haired girl,
dressed as a queen, with a diamond crown on her head.

It fairly took Billy's breath away, he thought it all so
beautiful, and he started to follow.

"All right, Jim, let him go there if he wants to. He probably
thinks the ponies are goats and will behave better than if put
with the lions."

"What an idiot that man is!" thought Billy, "to think I don't
know a pony from a goat."

It was a good thing they let him march there for he was so taken
up with watching the ponies in front of him that he forgot to be
mad at Jocko, who was going through all sorts of antics on his
back and swinging on Billy's horns. Everything was going smoothly
when Billy saw Mike O'Hara coming out of the crowd; he came up to
the clown that was walking beside him and said: "Look here, that
is my goat!"

"Well, I guess not, you must be crazy."

"I'll prove it to you," said Mike. "Do you see that black spot on
his forehead and that he has one black hoof and all the others
are white?"

"That don't prove anything," said the clown. "You just noticed
that as we were walking along, and now you come up here and try
to claim our goat."

"I'll give you another proof," said Mike. "He will come when I
call him."

"All right, call him, and I bet he won't follow you," said the
clown.

Mike held out his hand and called him by name, but Billy did not
turn an inch though he knew he belonged to Mike. He did not
propose to go with him and be made to pull milk carts. He
preferred to stay where he was as he liked the excitement of a
circus life.

When Billy did not go to Mike, it made the clown laugh and he
said: "There, I told you so. The goat never saw you before."

"Yes, he has," said Mike, "but it is just like his cussedness to
pretend he don't know me."

"Go along, I can't bother talking to you any more," said the
clown, as all this time Mike had been walking beside the clown as
they marched.

"Well, you need not talk to me any more," said Mike, "but I am
going to have my goat." And with that he caught hold of Billy's
horns and was going to lead him away.

"Here, take your hands off that goat, you are stopping the
procession!" But Mike held on and the