scarcely shook the tranquil and enfeebled spirit of Lonely out of its Dorian sloth and content. He still read the bills dreamily, but found the old thrill to be wanting. When one particularly resplendent pageant appeared on the street side of the Barrisons' barn, however, it moved him to suggest pensively to Annie Eliza that they get up a circus of their own.
This performance was given in the big box-stall of the O'Malley stable, neatly draped with quilts, and the admission was ten pins. The procession was an imposing one, with Gilead leading, the Gubtills' tom-cat coming next, then a squirrel-cage containing two red squirrels, a canary in a bird-cage, two dogs, and a very indignant setting-hen, on a wheelbarrow.
Although Lonely, adorned for the occasion in a suspiciously feminine-looking woven shirt, turkey-red trunks made by Annie Eliza and himself, and a pair of long black stockings secretly borrowed from his mother's bedroom bureau-drawer, executed marvelous feats on the trapeze, did the muscle-grind, skinned the cat, made the bird's nest, turned back hand-springs, stood on his head, walked on his
