and secured the necessary permits. Then Hamilton Corners really woke up
as the news became known that Dick was responsible for the whole affair.

"Say, he spends money like water," observed Simon to Guy. "I wish I had
some of what he's throwing away."

"I suppose you'd buy oil stock with it," observed Guy, with a peculiar
smile. Simon did not answer.

The orphans at the asylum--hundreds of them--could hardly believe the
joyous news when, after Dick had told those in charge, it was announced
to them by the matrons. Some of the poor little tots cried in very
happiness. One little boy, who remembered once seeing some of the gay
lithographs of a circus, was discovered running around in a circle.

"What are you doing?" asked a matron.

"Playing I'm a circus horse," was the answer. "I'se got to do suffin to
make de time pass. I'm so happy!"

Long before the time set for the performance, crowds of boys and girls
were headed for the big tents. Dick had generously arranged so that no
boy or girl need pay, and hundreds of those in Hamilton Corners, as well
as those in the surrounding suburbs, besides the orphans, saw the show
free.

Dick wanted to go off with some of his chums and view the performance,
but the head matron of the asylum asked him to sit with her in the midst
of her little charges.

"They want to see you," she explained. "They think you own the circus,
and that you are the most wonderful person in the world."

"Oh, pshaw! It isn't anything at all," declared Dick, with a blush. "I
just happened to think of it when I saw the little children out walking
and saw how sad some of 'em looked. Besides, it's time we had a circus
in Hamilton Corners."

The antics of the clowns, the "hair-raising, death-defying evolutions in
mid-air," as the programme called them, the performing horses and
elephants, the pony races, the chariot contests, the trick dogs, pigs,
monkeys, and other animals, the glittering pageant, the music and
excitement--all this was as a happy dream to the orphans. They sat in
ecstasy, now and then some of them looking at Dick, who sat in their
midst, as though, like some good fairy, they feared he might disappear
any minute.

"Well," remarked the manager to Dick in the library of the Hamilton
mansion, when the show was over. "You had your circus all right. I guess
about four hundred dollars will square us. There were quite a few paid
admissions."

"There's your check," answered Dick, passing