Kitty hung on the gate and watched them pass by,--the long train of high
waggons with grated windows, out of which strange animals peered with
their great, fierce eyes; the two elephants in their scarlet and gold
blankets; the tiny ponies tossing their shaggy manes; the splendid
carriage drawn by eight gaily blanketed, gaily plumed, dancing horses,
and every seat filled with splendidly dressed men and women; the bright
red band-waggon, with the sun glittering over the wonderful brass
instruments and turning them into gold. Kitty watched all
this,--watched, and listened to the loud, full bursts of music, until
her heart swelled and bounded. She sprang from the gate, and stamped her
foot on the ground.

"I wish--oh, I wish I could go!" she almost screamed at last. "I want
to--I _want_ to! Oh, I never wanted to go anywhere so bad in my life!"

"I reckon you'll take it out in wanting," said her mother, who had also
leaned on the fence and watched the show pass by. "Folks who have to dig
as I do, from morning to night, just to get something to eat, don't have
any money to spend on circuses."

Kitty shook her head with rage. "I don't go anywhere," she screamed.
"Never! I never went to a circus in my life, and all the boys and girls
around here go every year. Tip always goes--always; he manages to slip
in. Oh, Tip'" and she opened the gate and went out to him on the
sidewalk, a new thought having come to her, "can't you do something to
get some money, and let me go to the circus with you? Can't you manage
some way? Oh, Tip, do! I'll do anything for you, if you only will. I
never wanted anything so bad before."