mincing into the arena. In his mouth he champed solid silver bits,
and his polished hoofs were rimmed with nickel-plated shoes. The heavy
bridle reins were covered with the finest white kid, as was the
surcingle which completed his trappings.

Rather stout had Calico become in these halcyon days. His back and
flanks were like the surface of a well-upholstered sofa. His coat of
motley told its own story of daily rubbings and good feeding. The white
was dazzlingly white and the carrot-red patches glowed like the inside
of a well-burnished copper kettle. So shiny was he that you could see
reflected on his sides the black, gold-spangled tights and fluffy black
skirts worn by Mlle. Zaretti, who poised on his back as lightly as if
she had been an ostrich-plume dropped on a snow-bank and who smilingly
kissed her finger-tips to the craning-necked tiers of spectators with
charming indiscrimination and admirable impartiality.

You may imagine that this picture was not without its effect. Never did
it fail to draw forth a mighty volume of "Ohs!" and "Ah-h-h-hs!"
especially at the afternoon performances, when the youngsters were out
in force. And how Calico did relish this hum of admiration! Perhaps
Mlle. Zaretti thought some of it was meant for her. No such idea had
Calico.

You could see this by the way in which he tossed his head and pawed
haughtily as he waited for the band to strike up his music. Oh, yes,
_his_ music. You must know that by this time the horse that had once
pulled the stone-boat on Uncle Enoch's farm, and had later learned the
hard lesson of obedience under Broncho Bill's lash had now become an
equine personage. He had his grooms and his box-stall. He had whims
which must be humored. One of these had to do with the music which
played him through his act. He had discovered that the Blue Danube waltz
was exactly to his liking, and to no other tune would he consent to do
his best. Sulking was one of his new accomplishments.

As for Mlle. Zaretti, she affected no such frills, but she was ever
ready to defend those of her horse. A hard-working, frugal, ambitious
young person was Mlle. Zaretti, whose few extravagances were mostly on
Calico's account. For him she demanded the Blue Danube waltz in the face
of the band-master's grumblings.

When the Grandest Aggregation finally took the road the satisfaction of
Calico was complete. He was under canvas once more. No band-wagon work
wearied his nights. He even enjoy