mebody talk once in awhile.

They pretended that the tent was too big for the clown to be heard, but
I take notice it wasn't too big for the fellow to get up and declaim
"The puffawmance ees not yait hawf ovah. The jaintlemanly agents will
now pawss around the ring with tickets faw the concert." I used to hate
that man. When he said the performance was not yet half over, he lied
like a dog, consarn his picture! There were only a few more acts to
come. He knew it and we knew it. We wanted the show to go on and on, and
always to be just as exciting as at the very first, and it wouldn't!
We had got to the point where we couldn't be interested in anything any
more. We were as little ones unable to prop their eyelids open and yet
quarreling with bed. We were surfeited, but not satisfied. We sat there
and pouted because there wasn't any more, and yet we couldn't but yawn
at the act before us. We were mad at ourselves, and mad at everybody
else. We clambered down the rattling bedslats seats, sour and sullen.
We didn't want to look at the animals; we didn't want to do this, and
we didn't want to do that. We whined and snarled, and wriggled and shook
ourselves with temper, and we got a good hard slap, side of the head,
right before everybody, and then we yelled as if we were being killed
alive.

"Now, mister, if I ever take you any place again, you'll know it. I'd
be ashamed of myself if I was you. Hush up! Hush up, I tell you. Now
you mark. You're never going to the show again. Do you hear me? Never! I
mean it. You're never going again."

But at eventide there was light. After supper, after a little rest and
a good deal of food, while chopping the kindling for morning (it's
wonderful how useful employ tends to induce a cheerful view of life)
out of her dazzling treasure-heap of jewels, Memory took up, one after
another, a glowing recollection and viewed it with delight. The evening
performance, the one all lighted up with bunches and bunches of lights,
was a-preparing, and in the gentle breeze the far-off music waved as it
had been a flag. A harsh and rumbling noise as of heavy timbers falling
tore through the tissue of sweet sounds. The horses in the barn next
door screamed in their stalls to hear it. Ages and ages ago, on distant
wind-swept plains their ancestors had hearkened to that hunting-cry, and
summoned up their valor and their speed. It still thrilled in the blood
of these patient slaves of man, though countless gen