TICKETS TO PARADISE

On Wednesday Mr. Phillips reported that while the matter of allowing Mrs. Mullarkey to keep Jerry had not been decided, he would not be taken to the poor farm on that day at least and he thought it could be arranged that he shouldn’t go there at all.  Consequently it was with a joyous heart that Jerry awoke early on the morning of the great day that the circus was to reach town.  He had slept fitfully all night, thinking of the circus and fearing that he might not wake up in time.  Mrs. Mullarkey had promised to call him, but for once Jerry had waked up himself.

He heard a stir downstairs and called to Mother ’Larkey that he was up.  He roused Chris, who in turn called Danny, but Danny was a sound sleeper and merely turned on his side.  Chris and Jerry then rolled him over and pulled the covers off and finally pummeled the sleeper into a state of semi-consciousness.

“It’s time for the circus to unload,” they told him.  “We’re all dressed, ready to go.”

Danny opened one swollen, sleepy eye, “Aw, it’s not time yet,” he muttered drowsily and went back to sleep.

“All right, let him be,” said Chris in disgust.  “We ain’t got time to wake him.  We’ll miss the unloadin’ if we do.”

So Jerry and Chris tiptoed carefully downstairs, for they knew Mrs. Mullarkey had gone back to bed, and ran through the dim light of dawn to the railway station.

The circus train was in and the unloading had already begun.  Nearly all the small boys in town seemed to be perched on fences, roofs, and in trees, watching the proceedings.  The circus men were tired and cross and made the children keep out of the way.

Jerry was dreadfully excited and exhilarated upon seeing four elephants on the opposite side of the train, and his delight knew no bounds when one of them was hitched to a heavy circus wagon on a car and pulled it down a board incline to the road.  The funny, awkward animal walked right along as though the wagon were as light as a feather.  Many of the boys complained because the sides of the wagons in which the wild animals were kept were closed, but not so Jerry.  As long as he could feast his eyes on the elephants he was content.  He had but a passing glance for the humpbacked camels and the two long-necked giraffes until after the elephants had been taken away.

When the train had been unloaded and the last wagons were hauled away, the troop of small boys—­and many older ones and grown men as well—­followed them out to the circus ground.

Already one big tent and several smaller ones had been erected and the elephants and the other animals were not to be seen.  There was a delightfully circusy smell of oils and sawdust and hay and animals pervading the air.  Then through it all came another smell that made Jerry and Chris and many of the boys and men sniff.  It was the smell of bacon and eggs frying.  The cooks were preparing breakfast for the circus troupe.