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 The ringmaster looked at him in astonishment for a second, then burst into a peal of hearty laughter and slapped Freckles soundly on the back.

"It's all right, son," he said; "don't worry. I guess you and that Atherton boy will get along all right. You didn't expect we was going to say Master Harry Wilson from Pumpkin Holler, did you? Why, that Atherton chap from Kentucky is yourself. Didn't know yourself, did you? Well, you won't know yourself in the glass, either, when you take a look at your driving togs. You are green about the circus. You have a lot to learn. We have to be all glitter and glisten here. It's what takes with the crowd. But come on. Get out Sir Wilton, and I will give you some pointers about how to drive him. Perhaps you can go in the parade to-morrow."

For an hour the boy and small horse worked patiently under Mr. Williams's instruction. This was the first of many