The Circus Comes to Town | Page 3

eagerly asked Jerry, going close to the
billboard as though that might help him to make out what was printed
on it. "Ain't it coming?"
"Read it quick, Danny! Please! I can't wait!" cried Celia Jane.
Thus besought, Danny read somewhat haltingly, for the "writin'" was in
queerly formed letters, these words which are known to all children:
Ask your mother for fifty cents To see the elephant jump the fence, He
jumped so high he hit the sky And never came down till the Fourth of
July.
"Is that all?" asked Celia Jane, very much disappointed.
"Didn't I just read it to you?" was Danny's rejoinder.
"Then the circus ain't comin', is it?" said Chris.
"It don't say so," replied Nora. "It don't say whether it's comin' or
whether it ain't."
"It doesn't say it's a circus," said Danny. "It might be just an 'ad'
for--for any old thing."
"For a menajeree?" asked Celia Jane.
"Or chewin' gum?" suggested Chris.
"Or something," affirmed Danny decisively.
Jerry forgot to be disappointed about the circus not coming, for he was
bothered about what it was that the picture of the elephant made him
almost think of. He tried and tried with all his might to think what it
was, but didn't succeed. Then something almost like faint music
seemed to hum in his ears and his lips unconsciously formed a word,
"Oh, queen," he murmured.
"Oh, what?" said Danny sharply, turning to him.

"I didn't know I said anything," replied Jerry. "I didn't mean to."
"You did," said Celia Jane. "You said, 'Oh, queen.'"
"What does that mean, 'Oh, queen'?" asked Danny.
"I--I don't know," replied Jerry.
"What did you say it for then?"
Jerry felt that he was being treated unfairly when he wasn't conscious
of having said anything and he didn't answer. He was sorry that the
humming almost like music wouldn't come back,--it was so comforting.
"If you don't know what 'Oh, queen' means, what did you say 'Oh,
queen' for?" persisted Danny.
"I don't know," Jerry replied, at a loss. Then he brightened, "I might
have heard it, sometime."
"Maybe it was somebody's name?" suggested Nora.
"I don't know."
"It's an Irish name, if it's got an O in front of it, and you said
'O'Queen'," Celia Jane stated.
"Did you ever know an Irish man or Irish woman by the name of
'O'Queen'?" questioned Danny.
"I don't know," repeated Jerry, his lips twisting in real distress at not
being able to think what could have made him say a thing like that.
"You don't know anything, do you?" asked Danny in the teasing,
affronting tone he sometimes adopted with Jerry.
"I do, too," affirmed Jerry, his lips tightening.
"You don't know how old you are," said Celia Jane, following Danny's

lead.
"Do you know what your name is?" asked Danny.
"Jerry Elbow," replied Jerry, hot within at this making fun of his name
which always seemed to give Danny so much enjoyment.
"Jerry Elbow," said Danny, putting so much sarcasm into pronouncing
the name as to make it almost unbelievable that it could be a name.
"What kind of a name is that--Elbow! Might as well be Neck--or Foot."
"It's just as good as Danny Mullarkey!" declared Jerry.
"There's nothing the matter with your name, Jerry," interposed Nora.
"Eat the core of your apple," she continued, pointing at it, forgotten, but
still clutched tightly in his fist.
"I don't want the old core," said Jerry and threw it against the billboard.
Celia Jane ran after it, grabbed it eagerly, wiped it off on her skirt and
popped it into her mouth.
"Celia Jane!" called Nora, "Don't you eat that core after it's been in the
dirt."
But Celia Jane had quickly chewed and swallowed it. "It's gone," she
said. "Besides, it wasn't dirty enough to amount to anything."
Jerry had returned to contemplation of the elephant jumping the fence,
when a youthful voice called from across the street, "Look at it good,
kid. I guess it's about all of the circus you'll see."
Jerry and the Mullarkey children turned and faced the speaker. It was
"Darn" Darner, the ten-year old son of Timothy Darner, the county
overseer of the poor, and a more or less important personage, especially
in his own eyes. You had to be very particular how you spoke to
"Darn" unless you wanted to get into a fight, and unless you were as
old and as big as he was you had no desire to fight with him. He was
especially touchy about his name. He had been "Jimmie" at home but

once at school he had signed himself, in the full glory of his name, J.
Darnton Darner, perhaps to do honor to his grandfather, after whom he
had been named. Thereafter "Darn" was the