"I haven't tried it well enough to tell. This is only my second day." "I went into it at fourteen. I've been an acrobat, too, but I have a weak ankle, and have gone into the ticket department." "Are you going to remain in the circus permanently?" "No, I'm trying to wean myself from it. A friend has promised to set me up in business whenever I get ready to retire. If I kept on, I would be no better off at forty than I am now." "Yet circus people make a good deal of money, I hear." "Right you are, my boy, but they don't keep it. They get spoiled for anything else, and soon or later they are left out in the cold. I've had a good deal of fun out of it, for I like traveling, but I'm going to give it up." "I took it up because I had nothing else to do, but I shan't stay in it long. I'll tell you about it some day. I hear you drive one of the pony chariots." "Yes." "I am to drive the other." "Good! Don't let them run away with you, my boy." "I'll try not to," said Kit, smiling. "Is there any danger?" "Not much. They're trained. Are you fond of horses?" "I like nothing better." "So it is with me. I'll wait till you are through breakfast, and then we'll go over together." Half an hour later Kit sat on the box of a chariot, drawn by two beautiful ponies. The circus line had been formed, and the parade began. Behind him was a circus wagon, or rather a cage on wheels, through the gratings of which could be seen a tiger, crafty and cruel looking. In front was an elephant, with two or three performers on his back. Kit was dressed in street costume, his circus dress not being required. In another part of the procession was Charlie Davis, driving a corresponding wagon. Kit felt a peculiar exhilaration as he drove his ponies, and reflected upon the strangeness of his position, as compared with his previous experiences. He had from time to time watched circus processions, but not in his wildest and most improbable dreams had it ever occurred to him to imagine that he would ever himself take part in one. As he looked down from his perch he saw the streets lined with the usual curious crowd of spectators, among whom boys were largely represented. "I suppose some of them are envying me," he thought to himself, with a smile. "Suppose there was some one who recognized me?" No sooner had the thought come into his mind, than he heard his own name called in a voice indicating amazement. "Kit Watson, by all that's wonderful!" were the words that fell on his ears. Looking to the right, his glance fell upon Jack Dormer, a schoolmate, who had been attending the same academy with him for a year past. Kit colored, feeling a little embarrassed. "How are you, Jack?" he said. "How came you in this circus procession, Kit?" "I can't tell you now. Come round to the lot, after the parade is over, and I'll tell you all about it." Jack availed himself of the invitation and presented himself at the circus grounds.