forward as if to meet him; then, apparently on second thought, he
retreated to his post. But he kept his eyes fixed on the lad, who was
coming slowly nearer, and his thin face took on an expression of the
deepest satisfaction. He turned partly aside, however, as the boy
approached him, and stood with averted countenance until the lad had
passed through the gate.

Ralph was just in time. He had no sooner got in and found a seat, with
the other breaker boys, away up under the edge of the tent, than the
grand procession made its entrance. There were golden chariots, there
were ladies in elegant riding habits and men in knightly costumes,
there were prancing steeds and gorgeous banners, elephants, camels,
monkeys, clowns, a moving mass of dazzling beauty and bright colors
that almost made one dizzy to look upon it; and through it all the
great band across the arena poured its stirring music in a way to
make the pulses leap and the hands and feet keep time to its sounding
rhythm.

Then came the athletes and the jugglers, the tight-rope walkers and
the trapeze performers, the trained dogs and horses, the clowns and
the monkeys, the riding and the races; all of it too wonderful, too
mirthful, too complete to be adequately described. At least, this was
what the breaker boys thought.

After the performance was ended, they went out to the menagerie tent,
in a body, to look at the animals.

One of the boys became separated from the others, and stood watching
the antics of the monkeys, and laughing gleefully at each comical
trick performed by the grave-faced little creatures. Looking up, he