ne, mother? Well, then
I expect we'd better put for home. Now, Eddy, I told you 'No' once, and
that's the end of it. Hush up now! Look here, sir! Do you want me to
take and 'tend to you right before everybody? Well, I will now, if I
hear another whimper out o' ye. Ck-ck-ck! Git ep there, Nelly."

Some day, when we get big, and have whole, whole lots of money we're
going to the circus every time it comes to town, to the real circus, the
one you have to pay to get into. For if merely the street parade is so
magnificent, what must the show itself be?

How people can sit at the table on circus day and stuff, and stuff the
way they do is more than I can understand. You'd think they hadn't any
more chances to eat than they had to go to the show. And they can find
more things to do before they get started! And then, after the house
is all locked up and everything, they've got to go back after a
handkerchief! What does anybody want with a handkerchief at a circus?

It's exasperating enough to have to choose between going in the
afternoon and not going at all. Why, sure, it's finer at night. Lots
finer. You know that kind of a light the peanut-roaster man has got
down by the post-office. Burns that kind of stuff they use to take out
grease-spots. Ye-ah. Gasoline. Well, at the circus at night, they don't
have just one light like that, but bunches and bunches of them on the
tentpoles. No, silly! Of course not. Of course they don't set the tent
afire. But say! What if they did, eh? The place would be all full
of people, laughing at the country jake that comes out to ride the
trick-mule, and you'd happen to look up and see where the canvas was
ju-u-ust beginning to blaze, and you'd jump up and holler: "Fire! Fire!"
as loud as ever you could because you saw it first, and you'd point to
the place. Excitement? Well, I guess yes. The people would all run every
which way, and fall all over themselves, and the women would squeal--And
do you know what I'd do? Wouldn't just let myself down between the kind
of bedslat benches, and drop to the ground, and lift up the canvas and
there I'd be all safe. And after I was all safe, then I'd go back and
rescue folks.

We-ell, I s'pose I'd have to rescue a girl. It seems they always do
that. But it would be nicer, I think, to rescue some real rich man. He'd
say: "My noble preserver! How can I sufficiently reward you?" and take
out his pocketbook. And wouldn't say: "Take back your proffered gold,"