At another signal from the bugle, they all started to move, led by
the men and women performers, dressed in their best spangled
velvet suits. Then came what Billy thought to be the best thing in
the procession, a golden chariot drawn by twelve Shetland ponies,
each pony ridden by a little boy postilion, in scarlet velvet;
while in the chariot sat a beautiful, little, golden-haired girl,
dressed as a queen, with a diamond crown on her head.
It fairly took Billy's breath away, he thought it all so
beautiful, and he started to follow.
"All right, Jim, let him go there if he wants to. He probably
thinks the ponies are goats and will behave better than if put
with the lions."
"What an idiot that man is!" thought Billy, "to think I don't
know a pony from a goat."
It was a good thing they let him march there for he was so taken
up with watching the ponies in front of him that he forgot to be
mad at Jocko, who was going through all sorts of antics on his
back and swinging on Billy's horns. Everything was going smoothly
when Billy saw Mike O'Hara coming out of the crowd; he came up to
the clown that was walking beside him and said: "Look here, that
is my goat!"
"Well, I guess not, you must be crazy.
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