'Oh, I'll stand out of the way, boy, if that's it,' said Albert to Joe.
Then he turned mischievously to Miss Stokes. 'He wants to know what M.
stands for,' he said, confidentially.

'Monkeys,' she replied, turning to her horses.

'What's M.S.?' said Albert.

'Monkey nuts,' she retorted, leading off her team.

Albert looked after her a little discomfited. Joe had flushed dark, and
cursed Albert in his heart.

On the Saturday afternoon the two soldiers took the train into town. They
would have to walk home. They had tea at six o'clock, and lounged about
till half past seven. The circus was in a meadow near the river--a great
red-and-white striped tent. Caravans stood at the side. A great crowd of
people was gathered round the ticket-caravan.

Inside the tent the lamps were lighted, shining on a ring of faces, a
great circular bank of faces round the green grassy centre. Along with
some comrades, the two soldiers packed themselves on a thin plank seat,
rather high. They were delighted with the flaring lights, the wild
effect. But the circus performance did not affect them deeply. They
admired the lady in black velvet with rose-purple legs who leapt so
neatly on to the galloping horse; they watched the feats of strength and
laughed at the clown. But they felt a little patronizing, they missed the
sensational drama of the cinema.

Half-way through the performance Joe was electrified to see the face of