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homesteads; sometimes a buggy, with a good pony in the shafts. Hugh hoped for that, for he had an eye for a horse.

This afternoon, as if to help him, there were several riders on good horses; quite an unusual number. It puzzled him, until one man, pulling up near him to fill his pipe, offered the information that he was going to see a Circus in a township miles and miles away. "Long ride," he said, "but I hear it's worth it. Anyhow, I'd go a long way to see any sort of a Circus."

Hugh agreed emphatically to that. Always, since he was a tiny boy, a Circus had been his dream of bliss. He had seen a good many, when times were better, for Father shared his love of horses; and the Circuses of those days were often small, but their horses were always good, especially in a country like Australia, where nearly every one was a keen judge of a horse. Hugh had taught Tinker several of the tricks he had seen in the good old days that seemed so far back to his nine-year-old mind now. Tinker was quick and intelligent; it had made it all the harder to part with him, especially as Joe Clarke's father had bought him, and Joe, as he knew well, had no hands and thought a bridle was for keeping you on your pony. Hugh had visions of Tinker's tender mouth, sore under Joe's handling, and he was glad he had not to go to school to see it.

When he heard that Daisy, the cow, was to be sold, a great and beautiful idea had come to him. Perhaps, if she fetched a lot of money, Father would be able to buy

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