Mother Etienne, without further thought, still guided by her tender maternal heart, needed no urging, but followed by the two Americans, walked with a brisk, firm step towards the carriage.  Suddenly changing her mind, she said: 

“Will you just let me change my dress?  I can’t very well go out like this.”

She went to her room, an idea having entered her head, and soon returned very neatly dressed with a little basket in her hand.

The steps were adjusted and the three people took their places on top, whilst Yollande, wrapped in soft woollen covers, was carefully placed inside, in a basket provided for that very purpose.

When Germaine saw her mistress start off she would have liked to go with her, but the farm needed her attention.  Besides, Miss Booum’s promise of seats for the next performance quite consoled her.

The carriage made a curve in the yard, went through the gate, and soon disappeared, bearing the two new travellers.  As Miss Booum had said, it did not take more than half an hour to reach the camp, the cobs went so quickly.

On the way Mother Etienne met many acquaintances to whom she waved a simple but cordial greeting.  In most cases the carriage was already out of sight before they recovered sufficiently from their astonishment to wave back.

It was a nine days’ wonder.

CHAPTER VII

SIR BOOUM’S CIRCUS

Our travellers came in sight of the circus.  Imagine, children, a huge encampment like a small town,—­with sections, and streets, houses of green canvas on stout poles, tall caravans on wheels enclosing everything as though with impassable walls, and in the centre all sorts of people, in all sorts of costumes, walking up and down.

There were brown men, yellow men, red men, black men, big men, little men, thin men, fat men, lame men, deformed men, men with goitres, men covered with feathers, men covered with fur,—­in fact, men of every possible kind, size, and land,—­men to suit every possible taste.

All the most curious specimens were represented.  Besides these there was a colossal menagerie.  In it there were more than twenty elephants, giraffes, hippopotami, rhinoceroses, zebras, dromedaries, camels, and the rarest kinds of antelopes.  Then came the reptiles,—­from the boa constrictor, who was ten yards long, to the smallest blind-worm, amongst them some of the most dangerous kinds.  Crocodiles twenty feet long, monstrous toads, tortoises as big as donkeys.  Then there were the wild beasts too.  Lions from Abyssinia, from Atlas, tigers from Bengal, from Persia, jaguars, panthers, leopards, all the big cat family, lynx, onca, tiger cat.  Bears of all kinds, grizzly, grey, black, and white.  Then came wolves, foxes, coyotes, in fact the whole series of the dog tribe with every possible domestic variety.

In little barred cages was a collection of smaller carnivorous animals and rodents.  In a huge room all the monkeys from the big gorilla to the minute ouistiti or witsit, were installed; they squabbled, pulled one another’s tails, bit one another, uttered piercing cries.  There were constant battles going on in that corner.