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LONELY O'MALLEY

choice of a colleague. She flushed purple, to the roots of her well-frizzed hair (though whether from rage or from mere maidenhood modesty Lonely could never decide), and looking straight at the big guard she said:

"Why, of course you did, Willie! and I 'd like to see that big brute lay a finger on you!"

And there were sudden cries of "Sit down!" and "Down in front!" and as the guard drew back and the end of the Grand Parade brought a sudden influx of spectators. Lonely seized the occasion to slip away and migrate to more settled quarters.

He found the open-mouthed and entranced Lionel Clarence, huddled up as close to the bass-drum as he could get, at one moment rocking and weeping tears of mirth over the introductory antics of the clowns and at the next gazing rapturously up at the crimson-clad La Belle Leona, little dreaming that the dust-stained boy at his side had that very morning worn the tights which now gyrated and twinkled so perilously high up on the swinging trapezes.

And Lonely even forgot to tell about it, as