He was sitting near the young couple, and the expression of his sympathy was distinctly audible to them and many others.

"Got no more regards than a brazing calf-disturbin' a feller with his sweetheart!" "The both of 'em says they're goin' to do fer you," bleated Mr.
Bardlock.

"Swear they'll git their evens with ye." Mr.Martin rose again.

"Don't git scared and leave town, Mr.Harkless," he called out; "Jim'll protect you." Vastly to the young man's relief the band began to play, and the equestrians and equestriennes capered out from the dressing-tent for the "Grand Entrance," and the performance commenced.

Through the long summer afternoon it went on: wonders of horsemanship and horsewomanship; hair-raising exploits on wires, tight and slack; giddy tricks on the high trapeze; feats of leaping and tumbling in the rings; while the tireless musicians blatted inspiringly through it all, only pausing long enough to allow that uproarious jester, the clown, to ask the ring-master what he would do if a young lady came up and kissed him on the street, and to exploit his hilarities during the short intervals of rest for the athletes.
When it was over, John and Helen found themselves in the midst of a densely packed crowd, and separated from Miss Briscoe and Lige.