Tip's heart was throbbing with pleasure as he walked on home after Ellis had left him. For the first time in his life he had earnest, warm, hearty praise from his teacher. Ellis had said, "Father told me he thought I was mistaken." Mr. Holbrook, then, did believe and trust him. Besides, there was another thought which seemed delightful to him. Tip Lewis, the worthless, yes, wicked boy that everybody thought him, had walked down the main street side by side, and talking earnestly with Ellis Holbrook, the minister's son. CHAPTER X. "Enter not into the path of the wicked." Kitty hung on the gate and watched them pass by,--the long train of high waggons with grated windows, out of which strange animals peered with their great, fierce eyes; the two elephants in their scarlet and gold blankets; the tiny ponies tossing their shaggy manes; the splendid carriage drawn by eight gaily blanketed, gaily plumed, dancing horses, and every seat filled with splendidly dressed men and women; the bright red band-waggon, with the sun glittering over the wonderful brass instruments and turning them into gold. Kitty watched all this,--watched, and listened to the loud, full bursts of music, until her heart swelled and bounded. She sprang from the gate, and stamped her foot on the ground. "I wish--oh, I wish I could go!" she almost screamed at last. "I want to--I _want_ to! Oh, I never wanted to go anywhere so bad in my life!" "I reckon you'll take it out in wanting," said her mother, who had also leaned on the fence and watched the show pass by. "Folks who have to dig as I do, from morning to night, just to get something to eat, don't have any money to spend on circuses." Kitty shook her head with rage. "I don't go anywhere," she screamed. "Never! I never went to a circus in my life, and all the boys and girls around here go every year. Tip always goes--always; he manages to slip in. Oh, Tip'" and she opened the gate and went out to him on the sidewalk, a new thought having come to her, "can't you do something to get some money, and let me go to the circus with you? Can't you manage some way? Oh, Tip, do! I'll do anything for you, if you only will. I never wanted anything so bad before." And Tip's face, as he walked towards the village ten minutes after that, was a study, it looked so full of trouble. Kitty wanted to go to that circus,--wanted to go so very much that she had coaxed and begged him in a way that she had never done before. Besides, if the truth be told, Tip wanted to go himself; every time the wind wafted back to him a swell of the distant music, it made his heart fairly jump. It was true, as Kitty had said, he always managed to slip in some way; and the oftener he went, the oftener he wanted to go.