“Oh, what?” said Danny sharply, turning to him.

“I didn’t know I said anything,” replied Jerry.  “I didn’t mean to.”

“You did,” said Celia Jane.  “You said, ‘Oh, queen.’”

“What does that mean, ’Oh, queen’?” asked Danny.

“I—­I don’t know,” replied Jerry.

“What did you say it for then?”

Jerry felt that he was being treated unfairly when he wasn’t conscious of having said anything and he didn’t answer.  He was sorry that the humming almost like music wouldn’t come back,—­it was so comforting.

“If you don’t know what ‘Oh, queen’ means, what did you say ’Oh, queen’ for?” persisted Danny.

“I don’t know,” Jerry replied, at a loss.  Then he brightened, “I might have heard it, sometime.”

“Maybe it was somebody’s name?” suggested Nora.

“I don’t know.”

“It’s an Irish name, if it’s got an O in front of it, and you said ’O’Queen’,” Celia Jane stated.

“Did you ever know an Irish man or Irish woman by the name of ’O’Queen’?” questioned Danny.

“I don’t know,” repeated Jerry, his lips twisting in real distress at not being able to think what could have made him say a thing like that.

“You don’t know anything, do you?” asked Danny in the teasing, affronting tone he sometimes adopted with Jerry.

“I do, too,” affirmed Jerry, his lips tightening.

“You don’t know how old you are,” said Celia Jane, following Danny’s lead.

“Do you know what your name is?” asked Danny.

“Jerry Elbow,” replied Jerry, hot within at this making fun of his name which always seemed to give Danny so much enjoyment.

“Jerry Elbow,” said Danny, putting so much sarcasm into pronouncing the name as to make it almost unbelievable that it could be a name.  “What kind of a name is that—­Elbow!  Might as well be Neck—­or Foot.”

“It’s just as good as Danny Mullarkey!” declared Jerry.

“There’s nothing the matter with your name, Jerry,” interposed Nora.  “Eat the core of your apple,” she continued, pointing at it, forgotten, but still clutched tightly in his fist.

“I don’t want the old core,” said Jerry and threw it against the billboard.

Celia Jane ran after it, grabbed it eagerly, wiped it off on her skirt and popped it into her mouth.

“Celia Jane!” called Nora, “Don’t you eat that core after it’s been in the dirt.”

But Celia Jane had quickly chewed and swallowed it.  “It’s gone,” she said.  “Besides, it wasn’t dirty enough to amount to anything.”

Jerry had returned to contemplation of the elephant jumping the fence, when a youthful voice called from across the street, “Look at it good, kid.  I guess it’s about all of the circus you’ll see.”