"An' there was a Happy Fam'ly of a monkey, an' a armadillo, an' a dog, an' a kangaroo, an' a porcupine, all livin' together in one cage, an' when the monkey would try to tease the kangaroo, he'd just roll himself up in a ball an'--" "Who would?" interrupted Ed Mason. "The kangaroo, course--just like the picture of South America in the geography." But the cynic voice of Mason was not stilled. "Kangaroos don't roll themselves up in balls." "This one did." "No; that was the armadillo you were lookin' at." "My mother said it was a kangaroo, an' it _was_ a kangaroo, an' you'd better keep quiet an' leave me alone,--I guess my mother knows more'n you do about it." Ed sulkily muttered: "'Twa'n't a kangaroo," but Susy went on with her catalogue of beasts. "There was a bore-constrictor there that can crush eight men at once,--one of the circus men told my mother so, an' she said, 'I should think you'd be afraid he might get out,--he could squeeze through the bars, couldn't he?' And the man said he was scared for his life all the time. The bore-constrictor _did_ get out up in Lynn." "Did he crush eight men?" two or three of us asked at once. "No; they lassoed him. But he may get out again _any time_. An' there was a hipperpottermus that you couldn't see, except one eye, 'cos he kept down in a tank of water, an' he was horrid, an,' oh! I forgot! Alice Remick had on a new dress an' she went to give an ellerphant a cookie, an' the ellerphant switched up his trunk and spattered her with mud so it spoiled her dress, an' she got both eyes stuck up with mud so she couldn't see, an' she cried so her father had to go right home without seem' any more of the circus, an'--" "Did one of the elephants come in and ride round on a big velocipede?" demanded Ed Mason. "No," said Susy; "but--" "Did the seals play on drums, an' cymbals, an' sing?" he persisted. "No; but they--" "Oh, well," replied Ed, "they did at the circus last year. An' this circus only had ten elephants. Last year they had fourteen. An' last year they had a Black Tent of Myst'ries, too. I don't b'lieve this was much of a circus!" With this remark we both thought we might effectively take leave. We departed together, and as we left the garden we could still hear the shrill tones of Susy:-- "--an' there was an ejjicated pig that sat up in a chair with a ruffle round his neck, an' they said he could read, but he didn't, an' one man fell out of that swing, an' we thought he was goin' to get killed, but he fell in a net an' jumped up an' kissed his hand, but my mother says they _do_ get killed,--_often_, an' there was a cinnamon bear--" As we walked by my house Ed Mason repeated his remark:-- "I don't b'lieve 'twas much of a circus." My father looked suddenly over a hedge and said: "Then you couldn't arrange to go with me this evening?" We both jumped. We were startled at his voice, and there was also something in what he said that seemed to make the sun burst out of the clouds.