dering car-wheels and shrieking locomotive whistles as they could have done in their native jungle. Gradually, also, the lure of the road grew upon them, so they were sorry each autumn when the circus went into winter-quarters.
Thus it was that Joie and Ali became the habitual dwellers in the Tented Town. The Tented Town which ever appeared and disappeared. They were citizens of the world, and all the people they met were their friends.
But even then their sleep was filled with excitement, with shouts, and cries of venders, and cracking whips, and blaring bands, and roaring lions, and trumpeting elephants. Thus the night dream was like the day-dream, a great glittering pageant of change, change, change.
Nothing was still. Nothing could rest,
