noise.”

As they were speaking the great six-horse car rumbled slowly by, with the drummer beating hard and the buglers and trombonists blowing their best; while the crowd, taking up the cheer started by the boys, sent it echoing along towards the main street, where, coming slowly along, and stretching as far as eye could reach, there was a long line of caravans, all exceedingly plain and of a uniform yellow colour, with the names of their contents painted on them in black letters.

The place of honour was given to the king of beasts, for the first of the cars bore the word “Lions;” but probably his majesty was asleep, for not so much as a muttering purr on a large scale came from the narrow grating at the top.

Tigers followed; the next car held leopards, each carriage being of the same uniform level, with the black letters; and, coming slowly after them, were about two score, kept a good distance apart so as to lengthen the line as much as possible.

But at first there was nothing else to see, and Singh turned impatiently to his companion, and said: “When does the procession begin?”

“Why, that’s the procession,” said a small boy close to him, taking the answer upon himself. “The wild beasts are inside. Didn’t you know?” And then he proceeded to display his own knowledge. “They draw all the vans up in a square,” he began excitedly, “out there in the home-field behind the ‘King’s Arms,’ and then they open the sides of the vans, which are like great shutters on hinges at the top and bottom, so that when they are opened one shutter falls down and covers the wheels, and the other is pulled up, leaving the side all iron bars. Don’t you see? Then, instead of being vans, they are turned into dens and cages.”

“Is that so?” said Singh quietly.

“Oh, I suppose so,” replied Glyn. “I have never seen one of these affairs; but it seems a very reasonable way for building up a place all dens and cages in very short time.”

“Oh, look here!” cried another of the boys. “Here’s a game! Look at that nigger!”

Singh started as if he had been stung, and was about to turn furiously upon the boy, under the impression that he was the nigger in question; but at the same moment he caught sight of a full-blooded, woolly-headed West Coast African leading a very large camel by a rope, the great ungainly beast mincing and blinking as it gently put down, one after the other, its soft, spongy feet, which seemed to spread out on the gravelled road, while their high-shouldered owner kept on turning its bird-like head from side to side, muttering and whining discontentedly, as if objecting to be seen by such an elongated crowd, and murmuring against being made the one visible object of the show.

The camel was not an attractive creature, for, in addition to its natural peculiarities of shape, it was the time of year for shedding its long hairy coat, and this was hanging in ragged ungainly locks and flakes all along its flanks and about its loping, unhealthy-looking hump.

This was something to look at, and the excited boys shouted, cheered, and gave forth remark after remark such as must have been painful to the dignity of the melancholy-looking beast, which kept on turning its half-closed, plaintive-looking eyes at the noisy groups, wincing and seeming to protest against the unkindly and insulting remarks.

“Oh, I say, isn’t he a beauty?” cried one.

“Yes; it’s just like a four-legged bird,” shouted another.

“That’s right. They’ve caught Sindbad’s roc and clipped his wings.”

“Cut them right off,” said Glyn laughingly, joining in the mirth. “Poor fellow, look how he’s moulting!”

There was a burst of laughter at this, and as it ceased another boy shouted:

“Ought its hump to wobble like that, and hang over all on one side?”

“That isn’t its hump,” cried Burney; “that’s its cistern in which it carries its drinking-water. Don’t you know they can go for days without wanting any more? Can’t you see it’s empty now?”

“Poor camel!” said one of the boys.

“Yes, poor, and no mistake! Why, it’s all in rags,” cried Burney, and the unhappy-looking beast went mincing on, to be followed by another van labelled “Birds.” Then came one labelled ominously and in very large letters, “Serpents;” those next in succession containing antelopes, nylghaus, crocodiles, eagles, rhinoceroses, zebras, monkeys, orang-outangs, chimpanzees, rib-nosed baboons, and so on, and so on, cage after cage, den after den, a procession of so many painted yellow vans drawn by very unsatisfactory-looking horses, till, as the last one came into sight far on the right, it was observed by the boys as they stood leaning their elbows on the wall that there was something special being kept for the finale, for the crowd was closing in behind and coming on surrounding this last van.

“Oh, I shall be so glad when it’s all over,” said Singh. “I would have said let’s go away ever so long ago, only the Doctor might think it disagreeable after he had given us leave to see.”

“Yes, it would have looked bad,” replied Glyn. “It seems to me such a shame,” he continued, “getting us all here to see a procession of wild beasts, and all we have seen is a camel.”

“But don’t you see—” began Singh.

“Of course; I said so. I have seen a camel. But if the man let the people see all his wild beasts they wouldn’t pay to go into his show.”

“Oh,” cried Singh, “that’s it. I never thought of that. Of course. But what are the people all crowding up for behind that last van?”

“Because it’s the end,” said the small boy who had spoken before.

“No; but there’s something they can see, for they are all pressing close up, and the boys are stooping down to look underneath.”

“Yes, and there’s a man with a whip trying to keep them back.”

That was all plain enough to view as the great van, drawn by four stout cart-horses, came nearer, with the whip-armed carter who walked by their side varying his position to cross round by the back, making-believe to use his whip and keep the boys from getting too close.

“Well, they can see something,” said Glyn, as the great vehicle came nearly abreast; and as it did the lad gripped his companion by the shoulder.

“Look, look!” he cried. “My word, it is queer!”

“What is?” said Singh excitedly.

“Two pairs of giants’ trousers walking underneath the van. There, can’t you see? Oh, isn’t it comic. And they don’t fit.”

“Nonsense,” cried Singh excitedly. “It’s a big elephant underneath there, and he’s so heavy he has broken through the bottom of the wagon.”

It certainly gave a stranger that impression; but the young Indian was not right. It was only the showman’s ingenious device to convey his huge attraction from town to town unseen save just so much as would whet the spectator’s curiosity and make him wish to see more.

“Dear me,” said a rich, unctuous voice just behind the lads; and the boys started round at the familiar tones, to see the benignant-looking Doctor blinking through his gold-rimmed spectacles and commenting upon the spectacle for the benefit of his younger pupils. “You see, my dear lads,” he began, “a monstrous animal like that must weigh tons, and would be too heavy for the horses to—”

The Doctor’s words were drowned by the roar of laughter that arose from behind the wall, for Glyn’s comment had been taken up quickly, and ran from end to end of the line, with the result that, like a chorus dominating their laughter, the boys joined in one insane shout of:

“Trousers! trousers!”

The next moment it was over the wall and running through the crowd, who caught it up and began to yell out the name of the familiar object of attire, staid elderly men holding their sides and laughing, boys shrieking with delight and