Bab reluctantly tore herself away to find consolation in watching the young lions, who looked so like big puppies, and the tigers washing their faces just as puss did.

“If I stroked ’em, wouldn’t they purr?” she asked, bent on enjoying herself, while Ben held her skirts lest she should try the experiment.

“You’d better not go to patting them, or you’ll get your hands clawed up.  Tigers do purr like fun when they are happy, but these fellers never are, and you’ll only see ’em spit and snarl,” said Ben, leading the way to the humpy camels, who were peacefully chewing their cud and longing for the desert, with a dreamy, far-away look in their mournful eyes.

Here, leaning on the rope, and scientifically chewing a straw while he talked, Ben played showman to his heart’s content till the neigh of a horse from the circus tent beyond reminded him of the joys to come.

“We’d better hurry along and get good seats before folks begin to crowd.  I want to sit near the curtain and see if any of Smithers’s lot are ’round.”

“I aint going way off there; you can’t see half so well, and that big drum makes such a noise you can’t hear yourself think,” said Sam, who had rejoined them.

So they settled in good places where they could see and hear all that went on in the ring and still catch glimpses of white horses, bright colors, and the glitter of helmets beyond the dingy red curtains.  Ben treated Bab to peanuts and pop-corn like an indulgent parent, and she murmured protestations of undying gratitude with her mouth full, as she sat blissfully between him and the congenial Billy.

Sancho, meantime, had been much excited by the familiar sights and sounds, and now was greatly exercised in his doggish mind at the unusual proceeding of his master; for he was sure that they ought to be within there, putting on their costumes, ready to take their turn.  He looked anxiously at Ben, sniffed disdainfully at the strap as if to remind him that a scarlet ribbon ought to take its place, and poked peanut shells about with his paw as if searching for the letters with which to spell his famous name.

“I know, old boy, I know; but it can’t be done.  We’ve quit the business and must just look on.  No larks for us this time, Sanch, so keep quiet and behave,” whispered Ben, tucking the dog away under the seat with a sympathetic cuddle of the curly head that peeped out from between his feet.

“He wants to go and cut up, don’t he?” said Billy, “and so do you, I guess.  Wish you were going to.  Wouldn’t it be fun to see Ben showing off in there?”

“I’d be afraid to have him go up on a pile of elephants and jump through hoops like these folks,” answered Bab, poring over her pictured play-bill with unabated relish.

“Done it a hundred times, and I’d just like to show you what I can do.  They don’t seem to have any boys in this lot; shouldn’t wonder if they’d take me if I asked ’em,” said Ben, moving uneasily on his seat and casting wistful glances toward the inner tent where he knew he would feel more at home than in his present place.