'I thought maybe you'd do that,' said Jenny. 'It's all cold. A meat pie - cold sausages - a cuc.u.mber and lettuce hearts and tomatoes, rolls - and apples and bananas. Will that be enough?'

'Gosh, yes,' said Tinker, thrilled. 'What about something to drink?'

'You can take lemonade or orangeade with you, whichever you please,' said Jenny. 'But listen now - don't go bursting into your father's workroom. He's worked hard all day, and he's tired.'

'And cross, I expect,' said Tinker. 'People are always cross when they're tired. Except you, dear, dear Jenny.'

'Ha! You want something else out of my cupboard, calling me your dear, dear Jenny,' she said with a twinkle.

'Could we have some sugar-lumps?' asked Tinker. 'Oh, Jenny, there are the loveliest horses you ever saw down in the circus field. I want to give them a sugar lump each.'

'And yourself a few as well!' said Jenny. 'All right. I'll pack up everything for you, and give you a few enamel plates and mugs and knives. What about Timmy? Doesn't he want a meal too?'

'Wuff!' said Timmy, glad that someone had remembered him. Jenny patted his big head. 'It's all ready in the larder for you,' she said. 'George, you go and get it. He must be hungry.'

George fetched a plate of meat and biscuits from the larder and Timmy fell on it with happy little barks. Yes - he was very, VERY hungry!

At last all the food was ready-packed to take down the garden to the field. What a lot there seemed! Well, they would certainly have plenty to spare for their circus friends. They said good night to Jenny, and set off down the garden again. They thought they had better not disturb Professor Hayling.

'He might be cross and forbid us to go and feed with the circus-folk,' said Tinker. 'Mischief, come off that basket, and don't pretend you weren't fishing in it for a banana. And please put on your best table-manners tonight, or Charlie the Chimp will be ashamed of you!'

It was fun going back down the garden and over the fence into the field again. The sun was sinking fast and soon the shadows would fall. How lovely to sit round a fire and eat supper with the kindly circus-folk - and perhaps to sing old songs with them - and hear Fred the Fiddler fiddle his old, old tunes! What fun to creep into a tent, and sleep with the cries of owls around, and stars shining in at the tent opening!

There they go, over the fence, handing the food one to another. Take your paw out of that basket, Mischief! That's right, Timmy, nibble his ear if he's as mischievous as his name! You're all going to have some fun tonight!

Chapter Nine

A WONDERFUL EVENING

As soon as Jeremy saw the visitors climbing over the fence, he ran to help them. He was very excited at the thought of having guests. He took them over to old Grandad first, to be welcomed.

'Now I expect your friends will like to see round a bit,' said Grandad. 'Charlie the Chimp can go with you. We've a rehearsal on tonight, so the ring has been set up. You can watch some of the show.'

This was grand news. The children saw that curved pieces of painted wood had been set together to make a great ring in the field, and as they went across the gra.s.s, the Musical Horses began to troop into the ring, the leading one ridden by Madelon, a lovely girl, dressed in shimmering gold.

'How beautiful they are!' thought Anne, as she watched. 'Look at their great feathery plumes, nodding on their magnificent heads.'

The Bonzo Band struck up just then, and the horses at once trotted in perfect time to the music. The band looked a little peculiar as the bandsmen had not put on their smart uniforms. They were saving those for the opening night!

The horses trotted prettily out of the ring after two or three rounds, the beautiful Madelon on the leading horse. Then in came Fred the Fiddler and played his violin for a few minutes. First the music was slow and solemn, then Fred began to play quickly, and the children found themselves jiggling about, up and down and round about. 'I can't keep still!' panted Anne. 'The tune's got into my feet.'

Charlie the Chimp came up just then, walking on hind legs, and looking unexpectedly tall. He usually walked on all fours. He began to jig about too, looking very funny. He ran right into the ring and put his arms round Fred the Fiddler's legs. 'He loves Fred,' said Jeremy. 'Now he's going to rehea.r.s.e his cricket act. I must go and bowl to him.'

And off went Jeremy into the ring. The chimpanzee rushed over to him and hugged him. A bat was thrown into the ring, and Charlie picked it up, and made a few swipes into the air with it, making delighted noises all the time.

Then a cricket ball was thrown to Jeremy, who caught it deftly. A small girl appeared from somewhere and set up three stumps for a wicket. 'Can't find the bails, jeremy!' she called. 'Have you got them in your pocket?'

'No,' said Jeremy. 'Never mind, I'll knock the stumps right over!'

But that wasn't so easy with Charlie the Chimp at the wicket! He took a terrific swipe at the ball, and it went right over Jeremy's head, too high to catch.

The chimp lost his balance and sat down on the wicket, knocking the stumps out of the ground.

'OUT!' yelled Jeremy, but the chimp wasn't having that. He carefully put up the stumps again, and then set himself in front once more, waggling the bat.

It was the funniest cricket that the children had ever seen! The chimpanzee was very, very clever with the bat, and sent poor Jeremy running all over the place. Then finally he chased the boy all round the ring with the bat making curious chortling noises. The children didn't know if he was amused or angry! Finally he threw the bat at Jeremy and walked off, scratching himself under one arm.

The children roared with laughter at him. 'He's as good as any clown!' said d.i.c.k. 'Jeremy, does he do this cricket act every night when the circus is open?'

'Oh yes - and sometimes he hits the ball into the audience,' said Jeremy. 'There's great excitement then. Sometimes, for a treat, we let one of the boys in the audience come down and bowl to Charlie. One bowled him right out once, and Charlie was so cross that he chased him all round the ring three times - just as he chased me just now. The boy didn't like it much!'

Charlie came up to Jeremy, and put his great arms round him, trying to swing him off the ground.

'Stop that, Charlie,' said Jeremy, wriggling free. 'Look out - here comes the Dancing Donkey! Better get out of the ring - goodness knows what antics he'll be up to!'

In came the Dancing Donkey. He was dark grey, and tossed his head as he came galloping in. He stood and looked round at everyone. Then he sat down, lifted up a leg and scratched his nose. The children stared in astonishment. They had never in their lives seen a donkey do that before! Then, when the band suddenly began to play, the donkey stood up and listened, flapping his ears first one way and then another, and nodding his head in time to the music.

The band changed its tune to a march. The donkey listened again, and then began to march round the ring in perfect time - clip-clop-clip-clop-clip-clop. Then it apparently felt tired, and sat down heavily on its back legs. The children couldn't help laughing. The donkey got up, and somehow its back legs became entangled with its front ones, and it fell down, looking most ridiculous.

'Has it hurt itself?' asked Anne, anxiously. 'Oh dear - it will break one of its legs if it goes on like this. Look, it can't untangle them, Jeremy.'

The donkey gave a mournful bray, tried to get up, and flopped down again. The band changed its tune, and the donkey leapt up at once, and began to do a kind of tap-dance - clickety-click, clickety-click, clickety-click - it was marvellous!

'I shouldn't have thought that a donkey could possibly have been taught to tap-dance,' said George.

Soon the donkey seemed to feel tired again. It stopped dancing, but the band still went on playing. The donkey ran towards it and stamped its foot.

A weird voice suddenly came from it. 'Too fast! TOO FAST!' But the band took no notice and went on playing. The donkey bent down, wriggled hard - and its head fell off on to the gra.s.s in the ring! Anne gave a shriek of fright.

'Don't be an a.s.s, Anne,' said d.i.c.k. 'You didn't think the donkey was a real one, did you?'

'Isn't it?' said Anne, relieved. 'It looks just like that donkey that used to give rides to children on Kirrin beach.'

The donkey now split in half, and a small man climbed out of each half, taking their legs carefully out of the donkey's legs. The donkey-skin fell to the ground, and lay there, flat and collapsed.

'Wish I had a donkey-skin like that,' said Tinker. 'I've got a friend at school who could be the back legs and I'd be the front legs. The things we'd do!'

'Well, I must say you'd make a first-cla.s.s donkey, the way you behave sometimes,' said George. 'Look, this must be Dead-Shot d.i.c.k coming on.'

But before Dead-Shot d.i.c.k could do any of his shooting tricks, the two donkey-men had run to the band and begun a loud argument with them.

'Why play so fast? You know we can't do our tricks at top speed. Are you trying to mess up our turn?'

The band leader shouted something back. It must have been rude, because one of the donkey-men shook his fist and began to run towards the band.

A loud voice crashed in on the argument, and made everyone jump. It was Mr Tapper, old Grandad, giving his orders in an enormous voice.

'ENOUGH! You, Pat, and you, Jim, get out of the ring. I give the orders, not you. ENOUGH, I SAY!'

The two donkey-men glared at him, but did not dare to say a word more. They stalked out of the ring, taking the donkey-skin with them.

Dead-Shot d.i.c.k looked very ordinary, dressed in a rather untidy flannel suit. 'He's not going to go all through his act,' said Jeremy. 'You'll see him another night, when the show's on for the public - he shoots at all kinds of things - even a sixpenny bit dangling on a long string from the roof - and never misses! He's got a smashing rig-out too - sequins sewn all over his trousers and jersey - and his little horse is a wonder - goes round and round the ring and never turns a hair when Dead-Shot d.i.c.k fires his gun! Look - there he is, peeping in to see if d.i.c.k's coming back to him.'

A small white horse was looking anxiously at the ring, its eyes fixed on Dead-Shot d.i.c.k. It pawed the ground as if to say, 'Buck up! I'm waiting for you! Am I to come on or not?'

'All right, d.i.c.k - you can go off now,' shouted Grandad. 'I hear your horse has hurt a foot - give him a good rest tonight. We'll want him on tomorrow.'

'Right, sir!' said Dead-Shot d.i.c.k. He saluted smartly, and ran off to his little horse.

'What's next, Jeremy?' asked George, who was enjoying everything very much.

'Don't know. Let's see - there's the acrobats - but the trapeze-swings aren't put up yet, so they won't come on tonight. And there's the Boneless Man - look, there he is. Good old Boney! I like him. He's free with his money, he is, not like some of the other folk!'

The Boneless Man looked very peculiar. He was remarkably thin, and remarkably tall. He walked in, looking quite extraordinary. 'He can't be boneless!' said d.i.c.k. 'He couldn't walk if he was!'

But the Boneless Man soon began to seem absolutely boneless. His legs gave way at the knees, and his ankles turned over so that he sank down to the ground, unable to walk. He could bend his arms all kinds of different ways, and turned his head almost completely round on his neck. He did a few peculiar things with his apparently boneless body, and finally wriggled along the ground exactly like a snake!

'He'll be dressed in a sort of snake-skin when he does his act properly,' said Jeremy. 'Queer, isn't he?'

'How on earth does he do it?' wondered Julian, amazed. 'He bends his arms and legs all the wrong ways! Mine would break if I did that!'

'Oh, it's easy for him!' said Jeremy. 'It's just that he's completely double-jointed - he can bend his arms both ways, and his legs both ways, and make them seem so loose that it looks as if he really is boneless. He's a nice chap. You'd like him.'

Anne felt a bit doubtful. What queer people made up a circus! It was a world of its own. She jumped suddenly as there came the sound of a trumpet blowing loudly.

'That's for supper,' said Jeremy gleefully. 'Come on - let's go to old Grandma and her pot! Buck up, all of you!'

Chapter Ten

ROUND THE CAMPFIRE

Jeremy led the way out of the circus-ring. It had been well-lighted, and the night seemed very dark outside the ring. They went over the field to where a large fire was burning, cleverly set about with stones. An enormous cooking-pot was hung over it, and a very, very nice smell came to their noses as they went near.

Old Grandma was there, of course, and she began stirring the pot when she saw them. 'You've been a long time in the ring,' she grumbled to Grandad. 'Anything gone wrong?'

'No,' said Grandad, and sniffed the air. 'I'm hungry. That smells good. Jeremy, help your Grandma.'

'Yes, Grandad,' said Jeremy, and took a pile of plates to the old lady, who at once began ladling out pieces of meat and potatoes and vegetables from the steaming pot. Old Grandad turned to Julian.

'Well - did you like our little rehearsal?' he asked.

'Oh yes!' said Julian. 'I'm only sorry you didn't rehea.r.s.e all the turns. I badly wanted to see the acrobats and the clowns. Are they here? I can't see them.'

'Oh yes - there's one clown over there - look - with Madelon, who had the horses,' said Grandad.

The children looked - and were very disappointed. 'Is he a clown?' said d.i.c.k, disbelievingly. 'He doesn't look a bit funny. He looks miserable.'

'That's Monty all right,' said Grandad. 'He always looks like that out of the ring. He'll make you double up with laughter when the circus is on, he's a born clown - but a lot of clowns are like Monty when they're not performing - not much to say for themselves, and looking miserable. Winks is a bit livelier - that's him, pulling Madelon's hair. He'll get a smacked face in a minute, he's a real tease. There - I knew he'd get a clip on the ear!'

Winks went howling over to the children, boo-hooing most realistically. 'She smacked me!' he said. 'And she's got such p-p-p-pretty hair!'

The children couldn't help laughing. Mischief ran to the clown, jumped up on his shoulder and chattered comforting monkey-words into his ear. Charlie the Chimp let himself out of his cage, and came to put his great paw into Winks's hand. They both thought that Winks really was hurt.

'That's enough, Winks,' said Grandad. 'You'll have the horses comforting you next! You do that in the ring tomorrow when we open, and you'll bring the house down. Sit down, and have your supper.'

'Mr Tapper,' said Julian. 'There's one member of your circus we didn't see at the rehearsal - and that's Mr Wooh, the Wonder Magician. Why wasn't he there?'

'Oh, he never rehea.r.s.es,' said Mr Tapper. 'He keeps himself to himself, does Mr Wooh. He may come and join us for supper, and he may not. As we're opening the circus tomorrow night, maybe he'll turn up tonight. I'm a bit scared of him, to tell you the truth.'

'But he's not a real wizard, is he?' asked Tinker.

'Well, when I talk to Mr Wooh I feel as if he is,' said Mr Tapper. 'There isn't a thing he doesn't know about figures, there isn't a thing he can't do with them. Ask him to multiply any number by any other number, running into dozens of figures, and he'll tell you in a second. He shouldn't be in a circus. He should be an inventor of some sort - an inventor whose invention needs pages and pages of figures. He'd be happy then.'

'He sounds a bit like my father,' said Tinker. 'He's an inventor, you know, and sometimes when I creep into his study I see papers FULL of millions of tiny figures and plans and diagrams with tiny figures all over them too.'

'Very interesting,' said Grandad. 'Your father and Mr Wooh ought to meet. They would probably talk figures all day long! My word - what's that you're handing round, young lady?'

'Some of the food we brought,' said Anne. 'Have a sausage or two, Mr Tapper - and a roll - and a tomato.'

'Well, thanks,' said Mr Tapper, pleased. 'Very kind of you. Nice to have met you all. You might be able to teach Jeremy a few manners!'

'Grandad - here's Mr Wooh!' said Jeremy, suddenly, and got up. Everyone turned round. So this was Mr Wooh the Wonder Magician. Well, he certainly looked the part.

He stood there, with a half-smile on his face, tall, commanding and handsome. His hair was thick, and black as soot, his eyes gleamed in the fire-light, half hidden by great eye-brows, and he wore a thin, pointed beard. He had a curiously deep voice, and spoke like a foreigner.