But they had a way of clawin' and huggin' that wasn't nice, and you couldn't never tell whether they were good-natured or ready to bite your head off.

Buck was all over scars where they'd scratched and bit him, and I wasn't going to do it; and I didn't have to, owin' to Miss St.John's standin' by me like a good one." "Who was Miss St.John ?" asked Mrs.Moss, rather confused by the sudden introduction of new names and people.
"Why she was 'Melia,--Mrs.

Smithers, the ringmaster's wife.

His name wasn't Montgomery any more'n hers was St.John.They all change 'em to something fine on the bills, you know.

Father used to be Senor Jose Montebello; and I was Master Adolphus Bloomsbury, after I stopped bein' a flyin' Coopid and a infant Progidy." Mrs.Moss leaned back in her chair to laugh at that, greatly to the surprise of the little girls, who were much impressed with the elegance of these high-sounding names.
"Go on with your story, Ben, and tell why you ran away and what became of your Pa," she said, composing herself to listen, really interested in the child.
"Well, you see, father had a quarrel with old Smithers, and went off sudden last fall, just before tenting season' was over.