it was a bat!" she said, and she broke out crying and ran into the house,
and would not mind his father, who was calling after her, "Lucy, Lucy, my
dear child!"

Pony was crying, too, for he did not intend to frighten his mother, and
when she took his fun as if he had done something wicked he did not know
what to think. He stole off to bed and he lay there crying in the dark and
expecting that she would come to him, as she always did, to have him say
that he was sorry when he had been wicked, or to tell him that she was
sorry, when she thought she had not been quite fair with him. But she did
not come, and after a good while his father came and said: "Are you awake,
Pony? I am sorry your mother misunderstood your fun. But you mustn't mind
it, dear boy. She's not well, and she's very nervous."

"I don't care!" Pony sobbed out. "She won't have a chance to touch me
again!" For he had made up his mind to run off with the circus which was
coming the next Tuesday.

He turned his face away, sobbing, and his father, after standing by his
bed a moment, went away without saying anything but, "Don't forget your
prayers, Pony. You'll feel differently in the morning, I hope."

Pony fell asleep thinking how he would come back to the Boy's Town with
the circus when he was grown up, and when he came out in the ring riding
three horses bareback he would see his father and mother and sisters in
one of the lower seats. They would not know him, but he would know them,
and he would send for them to come to the dressing-room, and would be very
good to them, all but his mother; he would be very cold and stiff with
her, though he would know that she was prouder of him than all the rest
put together, and she would go away almost crying.

He began being cold and stiff with her the very next morning, although she
was better than ever to him, and gave him waffles for breakfast with
unsalted butter, and tried to pet him up. That whole day she kept trying
to do things for him, but he would scarcely speak to her; and at night
she came to him and said, "What makes you act so strangely, Pony? Are you
offended with your mother?"

"Yes, I am!" said Pony, haughtily, and he twitched away from where she was
sitting on the side of his bed, leaning over him.

"On account of last night, Pony?" she asked, softly.

"I reckon you know well enough," said Pony, and he tried to be disgusted
with her for her being such a hypocrite, but he had to set his teet