able dishes
which adorned the lower range of the Andes.

Mrs Pettigrew's screams were almost drowned in the discarding crash and
crackle of the falling avalanche of crockery.

Oswald, though stricken with horror and polite regret, preserved the
most dauntless coolness.

Disregarding the mop which Mrs Pettigrew kept on poking at the goat in
a timid yet cross way, he sprang forward, crying out to his trusty
followers, 'Stand by to catch him!'

But Dick had thought of the same thing, and ere Oswald could carry out
his long-cherished and general-like design, Dicky had caught the goat's
legs and tripped it up. The goat fell against another row of plates,
righted itself hastily in the gloomy ruins of the soup tureen and the
sauce-boats, and then fell again, this time towards Dicky. The two fell
heavily on the ground together. The trusty followers had been so struck
by the daring of Dicky and his lion-hearted brother, that they had not
stood by to catch anything.

The goat was not hurt, but Dicky had a sprained thumb and a lump on his
head like a black marble door-knob. He had to go to bed.

I will draw a veil and asterisks over what Mrs Pettigrew said. Also
Albert's uncle, who was brought to the scene of ruin by her screams. Few
words escaped our lips. There are times when it is not wise to argue;
however, little what has occurred is really our fault.

When they had said what they deemed enough and we were let go, we all
went out. Then Alice said distractedly, in a voice which she vainly
strove to render firm--

'Let's give up the circus. Let's put the toys back in the boxes--no,
I don't mean that--the creatures in their places--and drop the whole
thing. I want to go and read to Dicky.'

Oswald has a spirit that no reverses can depreciate. He hates to be
beaten. But he gave in to Alice, as the others said so too, and we went
out to collect the performing troop and sort it out into its proper
places.

Alas! we came too late. In the interest we had felt about whether Mrs
Pettigrew was the abject victim of burglars or not, we had left both
gates open again. The old horse--I mean the trained elephant from
Venezuela--was there all right enough. The dogs we had beaten and tied
up after the first act, when the intrepid sheep bounded, as it says in
the programme. The two white pigs were there, but the donkey was gone.
We heard his hoofs down the road, growing fainter and fainter, in the
direction of the 'Rose and Crown'.