The first and, as it turned out, the last performance of their circus
took place that afternoon. Jerry felt a thrill of expectancy as they
began to don their costumes. Once he thought he almost heard again that
low, cheerful strumming that had seemed to beat upon his ears when he
first saw the poster of the elephant jumping the fence. He said nothing
about it and soon lost all recollection of the rollicking strains in the
anticipation of the circus joys that he was about to behold.

Chris and Danny got into their costumes in the woodshed while Celia Jane
went into the house and put on her white dress, the one she wore on
Sundays. Mrs. Mullarkey had decided that Nora didn't need any special
costume to be a rope-walker and that all Jerry needed to be a trained
seal was a sort of apron made out of a gunny sack to protect his clothes
while he crawled about on his stomach. He did not put this on at once
but watched Danny getting into the skin of the elephant, wishing with
all his heart that he might be the elephant, even if its tail was big
and flat instead of being small like a rope.

It might have proved a mirth-provoking elephant to others had there been
others present to see it, but to Jerry's eager imagination there was
nothing laughable about it. The green wrapper hung most loosely about
Danny's small, slim figure, great folds almost touching the ground,
while the brown trunk and the blue, beaver-like tail waggled and wiggled
about until they met between the front and hind legs of the elephant.

There was something about that awkward elephant that made Jerry feel all
friendly inside and struck the chord of envy in his heart. He was not at
all inclined to laugh when the cap with the very floppy
palm-leaf-fan-ears attached fell off, as Danny started to gallop around