“Mercy!” was Mrs. Baron’s comment; whereupon Baron dropped back a step, and hid his mouth with his hand. The inrush of persons behind kept them going somewhat smartly past the first group of “attractions”: an “old mill-wheel,” with an entirely uniform supply of water tumbling down upon its buckets; a shooting-gallery; a negro with terrified, grinning face protruding from a hole in a curtain as a target for a group of men who were throwing baseballs. A merry-go-round started just as Baron’s party passed, and a popular melody was ground out with quite superfluous vehemence. Mrs. Baron paused--startled into making a halt, seemingly--just long enough to catch a glimpse of an elderly couple, a man and a woman, mounted upon two highly colored lions. They were undoubtedly country people, and the woman’s expression indicated that she was determined not to betray unfamiliarity with the high life of the city. Mrs. Baron hadn’t even an ejaculation which seemed at all adequate to her needs in this case. “I think the theatre’s over this way,” said Baron, steering a course which promised escape from the main currents of the crowd. Yes, there was the theatre, standing on a knoll with trees growing on its sides. A curved, flower-bordered road led up to its entrance. Conditions rapidly improved. There weren’t nearly so many people, and what there were were of a quieter type. Half-way up the knoll Baron turned about for a bird’s-eye view of the whole place. But beneath them a Midway blazed, and he caught sight of a lady on a platform before a tent, who was coiling a very large snake about her neck, while a little farther away a princess--she seemed to be--in red satin and spangles, sat wearily on a palanquin on top of a camel. He thought it would be as well for his mother not to see these choicest fascinations of Fairyland. He directed attention to the theatre ahead, which was modelled after what is left of a famous Roman ruin. And so they completed their climb without looking back. A grove surrounded the theatre, and under the trees there were chairs and tables. “Chairs!” exclaimed Mrs. Baron. “They’re the first thing I’ve seen....” She turned one about and sat down. “Fine idea, that,” said Baron. “Let’s all sit down.” “It’s plenty of time to go in when you hear the overture begin,” observed Bonnie May; whereat Mrs. Baron regarded her with rather a blank expression; but she said nothing. From the portals of the theatre strolled Thornburg, and instantly his glance took in Baron and his party. It was Baggot who observed that the manager seemed about to join them. The manager did. He came toward them across the grass and shook hands with Baron. He was smiling almost benignantly. Baron introduced his party. Thornburg was rather casually cordial in his manner. Then he took in the fact that the child in the party was Bonnie May.