rve his friends now that he was provided for himself.

"Can't do it, anyway. Got to pick up mother at the corner, and that
will be all I can carry. It's lifting a little; hurry along, Lizzie,
and let us get out of this as quick as possible," said Uncle Eben,
impatiently; for going to a circus with a young family is not an easy
task, as every one knows who has ever tried it.

"Ben, I'm real sorry there isn't room for you. I'll tell Bab's mother
where she is, and may be some one will come for you," said Billy,
hurriedly, as he tore himself away, feeling rather mean to desert the
others, though he could be of no use.

"Cut away and don't mind us. I'm all right, and Bab must do the best
she can," was all Ben had time to answer before his comrade was
hustled away by the crowd pressing round the entrance with much
clashing of umbrellas and scrambling of boys and men, who rather
enjoyed the flurry.

"No use for us to get knocked about in that scrimmage. We'll wait a
minute and then go out easy. It's a regular rouser, and you'll be as
wet as a sop before we get home. Hope you'll like that?" added Ben,
looking out at the heavy rain pouring down as if it never meant to
stop.

"Don't care a bit," said Bab, swinging on one of the ropes with a
happy-go-lucky air, for her spirits were not extinguished yet, and
she was bound to enjoy this exciting holiday to the very end. "I like
circuses so much! I wish I lived here all the time, and slept in a
wagon, as you did, and had these dear little colties to play with."

"It wouldn't be fun if you didn't have any folks to take care of you,"
began Ben, thoughtfully looking about the familiar place where the men
were now feeding the animals, setting their refreshment tables, or
lounging on the hay to get such rest as they could before the evening
entertainment. Suddenly he started, gave a long look, then turned to
Bab, and thrusting Sancho's strap into her hand, said, hastily: "I see
a fellow I used to know. May be he can tell me something about father.
Don't you stir till I come back."

Then he was off like a shot, and Bab saw him run after a man with a
bucket who had been watering the zebra. Sancho tried to follow, but
was checked with an impatient:

"No, you can't go! What a plague you are, tagging around when people
don't want you."

Sancho might have answered, "So are you," but, being a gentlemanly
dog, he sat down with a resigned expression to watch the little colts,
who were