and exciting things going on, and people praising you!

Oh, dear! I wish I could stop here. Why should there be painful things
in the world which must be written about? That pretty courtesy, that
spring from the earth were poor Mignon's last. She had risen and bowed
with the instinct which all players feel to act out their parts to the
end, but as the curtain fell down she dropped again, this time heavily.
Mr. Currie, much frightened, lifted and carried her to his wife's tent.
The band, who were playing out the audience, stopped with a dismayed
suddenness. Goo-Goo untied his mask and hurried in. Madame Orley, who
was feeding Chimborazo with sugar, dropped the sugar on the floor and
ran too. Jerry flew for a doctor. Mignon was laid on a bed. They fanned
her, rubbed her feet, put brandy into her pale lips. But it was all of
no use. The little hands were cold, the blue-veined eyelids would not
unclose. Madame Orley and the other women riders who were clustered
beside the bed began to sob bitterly. They all loved Mignon; she was the
pet and baby of the whole circus troupe.

It was not long before the doctor came. He felt Mignon's pulse, and
tried various things, but his face was very grave.

"She's a frail little creature," he said. "No stamina to carry her
through."

"She's opening her eyes," cried Madame Orley. "She's coming to herself."

Slowly the blue eyes opened. At first she seemed not to see the anxious
countenances bent over her. Then a look of recognition crept into her
face, and a wan little smile parted the lips. She lifted one hand and
began to fumble feebly in the bosom of her frock.

"What is it, Mignon, dear?" said one of the women. It was Alice's silver
thimble that Mignon was seeking after. When it was given her she seemed
content, and lay clasping it in her hand.

Just then a strange noise came from outside. Pluto, suspecting that
something had gone wrong, had slipped his halter. A groom tried to catch
him. He snorted back and cantered away. At the door of Madame Orley's
tent he paused, put in his head and gave a long whinny.

Mignon started. The bells on her ankles tinkled a little as she moved.

"Now, Pluto"--she whispered faintly,--"steady, dear Pluto. Ah, there's
the music at last! I thought it would never begin. How sweet,--oh, how
sweet! They never made such sweet music before. I can do it now." A
smile brightened her face.

"Has she a mother?" asked the doctor.

The words caught Mignon'