hen Oswald leaned over the iron gate of the bull's yard and just
flicked the bull with the whip lash. And then the bull _did_ pay
attention. He started when the lash struck him, then suddenly he faced
round, uttering a roar like that of the wounded King of Beasts, and
putting his head down close to his feet he ran straight at the iron gate
where we were standing.

Alice and Oswald mechanically turned away; they did not wish to annoy
the bull any more, and they ran as fast as they could across the field
so as not to keep the others waiting.

As they ran across the field Oswald had a dream-like fancy that perhaps
the bull had rooted up the gate with one paralyzing blow, and was now
tearing across the field after him and Alice, with the broken gate
balanced on its horns. We climbed the stile quickly and looked back; the
bull was still on the right side of the gate.

Oswald said, "I think we'll do without the bull. He did not seem to want
to come. We must be kind to dumb animals."

Alice said, between laughing and crying:

"Oh, Oswald, how can you!" But we did do without the bull, and we did
not tell the others how we had hurried to get back. We just said, "The
bull didn't seem to care about coming."

The others had not been idle. They had got old Clover, the cart-horse,
but she would do nothing but graze, so we decided not to use her in the
bull-fight, but to let her be the Elephant. The Elephant's is a nice,
quiet part, and she was quite big enough for a young one. Then the black
pig could be Learned, and the other two could be something else. They
had also got the goat; he was tethered to a young tree.

The donkey was there. Denny was leading him in the halter.

The dogs were there, of course--they always are.

So now we only had to get the turkeys for the applause, and the calves
and pigs.

The calves were easy to get, because they were in their own house. There
were five. And the pigs were in their houses too. We got them out after
long and patient toil, and persuaded them that they wanted to go into
the paddock, where the circus was to be. This is done by pretending to
drive them the other way. A pig only knows two ways--the way you want
him to go and the other. But the turkeys knew thousands of different
ways, and tried them all. They made such an awful row we had to drop all
ideas of ever hearing applause from their lips, so we came away and left
them.

"Never mind," H. O. said, "they'll be sorry enough