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of the ring, still on their hind legs, until Dan's hand went down, when they came to earth and stampeded for their tent. It brought the house down: the benches creaked ominously under the stamping feet. Big Dan was a suave figure, bowing his acknowledgments, one hand on his gleaming shirt-front.

There were the elephants, splendid in colored trappings, solemn and docile. To the country folk anything that an elephant did was a miracle. They gasped as the great beasts paced along a narrow plank laid on tubs, Ram Singh carrying the keeper in his trunk: they clapped feverishly when Ali rang a bell and an attendant hurried up with bottles from which they drank—the crowd certain that the bottles would follow their contents down the great throats. Joey earned a roar of laughter by springing on Ali's back, to which familiarity the little elephant responded by kneeling down and shaking him off into the sawdust. Joey scrambled to his feet, aimed a kick at Ali from a safe distance, and fled, weeping, pursued at full speed by all three, with George in the rear beseeching them to come back. It was some time before the crowd realized that the turn was over—not, indeed, until a troupe of trapeze artists was already executing swallow-like flights high above their heads.

To Hugh it was one long evening of delight; a confused memory of light and color, made up of jugglers and tumblers, performing bears, dancing horses, dogs leaping through hoops, lithe-limbed men and women who took risks with a laugh. He thrilled with the crowd