he was to be the Dauntless
Equestrienne, and to give her enhancing act a barebacked daring, riding
either a pig or a sheep, whichever we found was freshest and most
skittish. Dora was dressed for the Haute ecole, which means a
riding-habit and a high hat. She took Dick's topper that he wears with
his Etons, and a skirt of Mrs Pettigrew's. Daisy, dressed the same as
Alice, taking the muslin from Mrs Pettigrew's dressing-table with-out
saying anything beforehand. None of us would have advised this, and
indeed we were thinking of trying to put it back, when Denny and Noel,
who were wishing to look like highwaymen, with brown-paper top-boots
and slouch hats and Turkish towel cloaks, suddenly stopped dressing and
gazed out of the window.

'Krikey!' said Dick, 'come on, Oswald!' and he bounded like an antelope
from the room.

Oswald and the rest followed, casting a hasty glance through the window.
Noel had got brown-paper boots too, and a Turkish towel cloak. H. O. had
been waiting for Dora to dress him up for the other clown. He had only
his shirt and knickerbockers and his braces on. He came down as he
was--as indeed we all did. And no wonder, for in the paddock, where the
circus was to be, a blood-thrilling thing had transpired. The dogs were
chasing the sheep. And we had now lived long enough in the country to
know the fell nature of our dogs' improper conduct.

We all rushed into the paddock, calling to Pincher, and Martha, and
Lady. Pincher came almost at once. He is a well-brought-up dog--Oswald
trained him. Martha did not seem to hear. She is awfully deaf, but
she did not matter so much, because the sheep could walk away from her
easily. She has no pace and no wind. But Lady is a deer-hound. She
is used to pursuing that fleet and antlered pride of the forest--the
stag--and she can go like billyo. She was now far away in a distant
region of the paddock, with a fat sheep just before her in full flight.
I am sure if ever anybody's eyes did start out of their heads with
horror, like in narratives of adventure, ours did then.

There was a moment's pause of speechless horror. We expected to see Lady
pull down her quarry, and we know what a lot of money a sheep costs, to
say nothing of its own personal feelings.

Then we started to run for all we were worth. It is hard to run
swiftly as the arrow from the bow when you happen to be wearing pyjamas
belonging to a grown-up person--as I was--but even so I beat Dicky. He
sa