by Enid Blyton
He went into the caravan and slammed the door. Jimmy was upset. It was horrid to think of pretty little Madame Prunella stealing off all alone in the night like that. How they would miss her and her screeching parrots!
But just then Britomart flung open his door again. He had remembered his missing wand.
“Where’s Lotta?” he called.
“In her caravan, sir,” said Jimmy in surprise. “Why, do you want her?”
“Yes—I want her—and I want something else, too!” said Britomart in a grim voice. And he strode over the field to Lotta’s caravan. What a shock poor Lotta was going to get!
Lotta is Punished
BRITOMART rapped on the door of Lotta’s caravan. Rat-tat-tat! Lotta opened the door in surprise, for not many people knocked like that. When she saw Britomart standing there, frowning, she was even more astonished.
“Lotta, you have my black wand, I think,” said the ring-master in his deep voice. Lotta stared at him in dismay. She had forgotten all about the wand. She went very red indeed.
“Where is it?” said Britomart. He pushed his way into the caravan, and looked round. Lotta went to her bunk, felt about under the mattress, and gave it to Britomart, trembling, for he looked so angry.
“How dare you go to my caravan and steal my wand!” thundered the ring-master. “I always said that children should never be allowed in any circus. You are a bad little girl.”
Lotta didn’t know what to say. She didn’t like to say that Lisa had taken the wand and lent it to her, in case she got Lisa into trouble too. She did not know that Lisa had told a bad untruth, and put the whole blame on Lotta. So the little girl stood there and said nothing at all, looking frightened and sulky.
But Jimmy, who was listening, called out in alarm, “Mr. Britomart! I’m sure Lotta didn’t steal your wand. She wouldn’t steal anything. She—”
“Hold your tongue, boy,” ordered the ring-master. “I’m not speaking to you, but to this naughty girl. Lotta, I will not have you in the ring for two weeks! You can stay out, and see how you like that. Lisa and Jeanne can take your place. They do not ride so well as you, but they are good enough. Perhaps that will teach you to leave other people’s things alone in future.”
Britomart turned and went down the steps. He pushed Jimmy roughly aside and went to his own caravan with his wand, a tall and stern figure. Jimmy did not dare to say anything more to him. He was afraid that if he did he too might be forbidden to go into the ring.
He was dreadfully sorry for Lotta. The little girl stood in the middle of her caravan as if she was turned into stone. She did not move or say a word. Jimmy ran up the steps to her, meaning to comfort her, forgetting all about the mean trick he thought she had played on him.
But Lotta pushed him away. She pushed him right down the steps, slammed the caravan door and locked it. She even shut the windows and drew the curtains across. Jimmy was quite shut out. He heard Lotta fling herself down on her untidy bunk, and begin to sob.
Poor Jimmy! It was dreadful to feel so sorry for someone and not to be able to help them. He went away after a time, and hunted for Lal, Lotta’s mother.
He told her all that had happened. Lal was angry and worried.
“Poor Lotta,” she said. “I’m sure she didn’t take that wand from Britomart’s caravan. I feel certain Lisa or Jeanne have had something to do with this, horrid little creatures!”
“You’d better go to Lotta,” said Jimmy anxiously, “She’s awfully unhappy. You know how proud she is of going into the ring with Black Beauty each night, and how she loves sharing my turn with Lucky. Now Lisa and Jeanne are going to ride instead. But I won’t let them share my turn with little dog Lucky.”
Lal went off to try and comfort Lotta. But the miserable little girl wouldn’t even unlock the door. She lay and wept till she had no tears left, thinking of the time when dear old Mr. Galliano ran the circus, and everything went right. She couldn’t bear Britomart. She couldn’t bear Lisa and Jeanne now, either, because they were going into the ring instead of her. Oh! Oh! How she hated everyone!
“Better leave her alone to get over it,” said Mrs. Brown, when Lal told her what had happened. “You know, Lal, this may do Lotta good. She hasn’t been a very nice child lately, and she has rather got into the habit of thinking that she can do just whatever she likes. She is a good little girl at heart—but she has been very naughty lately.”
“Perhaps you’re right,” said Lal, thinking of the rude faces and cheeky answers that Lotta had given her. “Maybe all the clapping and cheering she gets each night has made her vain.”
“Oh, how horrid you both are to talk of poor Lotta like that!” said Jimmy, who was very tender-hearted.
“She’s terribly unhappy now, I know she is—and I don’t care whether she deserves it or not, I’m sorry for her and I’d put things right if I could. I’d like to swing Britomart’s whip round his great long legs!”
“Hush, Jimmy, don’t talk like that,” said his mother, shocked. “If Britomart hears you, he will forbid you to go into the ring too—and then you will not get paid, and will have to go without a good many of the nice things you like so much.”
Jimmy stamped his foot and went off by himself. He was angry, miserable, and puzzled. He couldn’t believe that Lotta had stolen Britomart’s wand. But if she hadn’t, how was it that it was in her caravan? Jimmy didn’t know. He only knew that things were queer and horrid lately.
Lisa and Jeanne were excited and pleased when they heard they that were to ride in the ring instead of Lotta. They did not feel sorry for their friend. They were glad because they were going to take her place. They were hard, selfish little girls, vain and bold. They danced round in excitement when their mother fitted them for their circus-dresses.
“Lisa can borrow Lotta’s,” said Britomart. “They are much of a size. Perhaps Lal has an old dress of Lotta’s that she has grown out of, that would do for Jeanne. There is no time to make new ones.”
So, much to Lotta’s anger, Lisa and Jeanne put on her own dresses, the pretty, sparkling ones that made her like a fairy. Lisa and Jeanne looked lovely in them too, for they were both pretty children, with their red curls and snub noses. It made Lotta more unhappy to think of Lisa and Jeanne wearing her dresses than she felt when she thought of them taking her place in the ring that night.
“But they shan’t ride Black Beauty,” she told her mother furiously. “They shan’t! If they do, I’ll get on Black Beauty’s back and ride right away and never come back, Lal!”
“Don’t be silly, Lotta,” said Lal. “Of course no one will ride Black Beauty. He is in his stable, quite happy.”
But Black Beauty was not happy. He knew that his little mistress was sad, and he was sad too. He could not understand why she did not come to get him ready for the night’s show. He stamped impatiently in his stable, but Lotta did not come.
Black Beauty whinnied, and Lotta heard him. She had refused to go out of her caravan all that day, but she could not say no when Black Beauty called her. She slipped out when no one was looking and went to his stable. He rubbed his black nose against her lovingly and the little girl threw her arms round his neck.
“Oh, Black Beauty, we’re not going into the ring tonight,” she sobbed. “It’s not fair that you should be punished too, because you do love showing how well you can dance and do tricks, don’t you? But nobody shall ride you if I can’t. We’ll have to let that silly Lisa and stupid Jeanne take our places.”
At that moment Lisa and Jeanne came running by, dressed in Lotta’s pretty clothes. They saw Lotta and called to her.
“Hallo, Lotta! So you’ve come out at last! Look at us—aren’t we fine? We’re going to do as well as we can, so that Britomart will perhaps let us be in the circus always.”
Lotta turned away without a word. She wondered how she could ever have liked Lisa and Jeanne—how she could have played with them and been so unkind to Jimmy, who had been her friend for so long. She would never, nev
er play with them again.
Then she thought of something and turned round on Lisa. “How did Britomart know that I had his wand?” she demanded. “Did you tell him?”
Lisa looked at Jeanne and Jeanne looked at Lisa. They had both made up their minds what to say if Lotta asked them that question.
“What do you mean?” asked Lisa with an innocent, wide-eyed stare. “Of course we didn’t tell him. We didn’t even know you had it.”
“Oh, you dreadful fibber!” cried Lotta. “Why, you gave it to me yourself, Lisa, when you had found it under the chest!”
“We didn’t find it under any chest,” said Jeanne, bounding off. “You found it, and you must have taken it without anyone knowing.”
Lotta stared after the two mean, untruthful girls in amazement. For a moment she couldn’t imagine what they meant. And then she guessed everything.
“They must have told Britomart that I took the wand from his caravan,” she cried. “Oh, the fibbers! I’ll go and tell him straightaway that I didn’t.”
Off she rushed to Britomart’s caravan. She thumped on the door.
“Go away!” ordered Britomart, who was busy changing into his circus-dress. “I see no one now.”
“Mr. Britomart! It’s me, Lotta!” cried the little girl. “I’ve come to tell you that Lisa told you a story about me. She took your wand, not me—she gave it to me to see if I could do any tricks with it, and—”
“Go away,” said Britomart. “I do not believe you. You are a naughty girl, disobedient and sulky. Go away.”
So that wasn’t any good either. Lotta went away, tears in her eyes. She met Oona the acrobat in his sparkling tights, ready for the ring. He looked solemn.
“Have you heard anything about Madame Prunella?” asked Lotta, remembering that Prunella was Oona’s cousin and that the acrobat was very fond of her. Oona shook his head.
“No,” he said sadly. “I am unhappy about Prunella. It is the first time she has ever run away from a show—and it is not good to do that. No ring-master likes to take people who have run away from shows, in case it might happen again—and that harms a circus, you know. Britomart always rubs people up the wrong way. I don’t think I shall stay on with the circus when we leave here.”
“Oh, Oona, don’t say that!” cried Lotta. “The circus wouldn’t be the same without you.”
Oona wasn’t the only one thinking about leaving. Mr. Wally was gloomily planning to take Sammy to another show if Galliano didn’t come back soon. And if Mr. Wally went, then Mr. Tonks declared he would go too.
“Why, there won’t be any of Mr. Galliano’s Circus left!” thought Lotta miserably. “Whatever are we to do?”
What Will Happen to the Circus?
IT seemed strange without Madame Prunella, and everyone missed the noise of the screeching parrots. Nobody knew where Prunella had gone. Nobody heard from her. It was very mysterious. Britomart did not mention her name, but he altered the turns in the ring to make up for Madame Prunella’s turn being missed out.
Pierre got an even longer turn, and so did Google the clown. Twinkle, Pippi, and Stanley were annoyed about this, because they thought they should have more time given to them.
Sticky Stanley asked Britomart if he and the other two might not have five minutes more. Britomart shook his head.
“Google is funnier than you three,” he said. “You do not get so many laughs as he does—he shall have the extra time. And please do not question what I do—I am the ring-master and my word is law.”
Sharp-faced Google was pleased. A longer turn meant more money. He went across the field to talk to Pierre, who was also pleased that his own turn was to be longer. Squib, Google’s dog, went at his heels.
He saw Lucky on the way and stopped to talk to him. He was very good friends with Lucky. Jimmy saw them playing together as he came up with biscuits for Lucky, and he threw one to Squib.
Google saw him and swung round. “Don’t feed my dog!” he ordered. “You children think you can do what you like in this circus. Squib! Come here !”
Squib did not want to come, with that beautiful smell of biscuit just under his nose. He stood there, wagging his tail, looking towards his master as if to say, “Please, Master, just let me wait and have a nibble, then I’ll come.”
Google was always jealous if Squib liked anyone else, and he was furious because his dog would not leave Jimmy and Lucky, and come to him. He strode over to them, picked Squib up, and tried to cuff Jimmy. The boy slipped out of the way, his eyes shining with rage.
Google went off, muttering.
“That’s the first time anyone has tried to cuff me in this circus,” thought Jimmy. “Lotta’s right. This isn’t Mr. Galliano’s circus any longer. It’s Britomart’s—and it’s getting like him—quarrelsome, selfish, hard, and horrid!”
For the first time a thought came into the boy’s mind, If Mr. Wally went—and Mr. Tonks and Jumbo went—why shouldn’t he go too? Why shouldn’t he go with them, and join another circus, where perhaps there would be a nicer ring-master than Britomart? His mother and father could go with him, for any circus would be glad of Brownie’s help as carpenter and handyman.
“And I guess you and I could get a job in another circus as easily as anything!” said Jimmy, stroking Lucky’s soft head. “I don’t believe old Galliano will ever come back—and I’m not going to work for Britomart much longer! He has never once said how clever you are, Lucky. He looks at us as if we are worms. We won’t stand it, will we?”
“Woof, woof!” said Lucky, lying on her back with all four paws in the air. She would go anywhere with Jimmy and be happy.
“You see, Lucky, even Lotta doesn’t seem the same,” said Jimmy, tickling Lucky. “We’ve had such fun together, she and I, and Black Beauty and you—but now she mustn’t go into the ring, and she’s cross and miserable and won’t be friends. So perhaps it would be better to go right away, Lucky, and start all over again.”
Lisa and Jeanne came chattering by. They were very pleased at going into the ring each night. They were a great success, for although they were not nearly so clever as Lotta, they could both ride well, and looked pretty in the ring.
Lisa pulled Jimmy’s hair as she passed. “You look as if you’re going to burst into tears!” she said. “Cheer up!”
Jimmy turned his back on her. “I suppose you think you do marvellously in the ring!” he said. “But, my goodness, what a pair of scarecrows you look! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves, doing poor old Lotta out of her turn. I thought you were supposed to be friends of hers.”
“My word, isn’t he a bear!” laughed Jeanne, and the two girls danced off happily, very pleased with themselves these days. Things were going right with them!
Jimmy went into the ring after a while to give Lucky a practice. Mr. Wally was there with Sammy the chimpanzee, giving him a practice too.
Mr. Wally was looking worried. Sammy was not behaving well. He was sulky. He was supposed to undress himself in the ring and put himself to bed in a cot, which he usually did very well indeed. But today he sat on the floor and moped, and although Mr. Wally did his best to coax him, he hung his hairy head and would not do anything to please his master.
When he saw Jimmy coming in with Lucky he leapt to his feet and made chattering noises of joy. He ran to Jimmy and put his arms round the boy’s waist, nearly lifting him off the ground with delight.
“Oh, Sammy! Dear old Sammy!” said Jimmy. “Look, Mr. Wally, he’s even trying to kiss me!”
“He’s so pleased to see you,” said Mr. Wally. “You know, Jimmy, he’s moping terribly, now that he is not allowed to wander about with me and you as he likes. And since you’ve been forbidden to play with him in his cage each day he is worse than ever. Chimpanzees are like children, you know—they must have plenty to do and see, or they mope and get miserable. Now, Sammy—will you do your tricks for Jimmy?”
Oh, yes! Sammy didn’t mind doing them for his beloved friend Jimmy. The chimpanzee wen
t through his tricks happily, laughing when Jimmy clapped him. His queer chimpanzee mind had not been able to understand why his friend hadn’t been to see him—and he couldn’t think why nobody took him for walks round the field now.
Jimmy took Sammy’s paw and led him back to his cage when his practice was over. They met Britomart on the way, and when the ring-master saw Jimmy with the chimpanzee, he frowned.
“Didn’t I say that you were not to play with the animals anymore?” he demanded. “Mr. Wally, you know my orders, even if Jimmy doesn’t!”
Mr. Wally had a temper of his own. He flared up at once.
“Mr. Britomart,” he said, “everyone in this circus knows your orders. We can’t help knowing them. You throw them at our heads all day long. We have had more orders from you in a few weeks than we had from Mr. Galliano in a year! But I’m not aware that either I or Jimmy are disobeying your orders at the moment. Jimmy is not playing with Sammy. He is merely walking back to his cage with him.”
“That is enough from you, Mr. Wally,” said the ring-master in anger.
“No, it isn’t enough,” said Mr. Wally. “Not nearly enough! My chimpanzee is moping, Mr. Britomart, because of your orders. He won’t do his tricks properly! If Jimmy hadn’t come into the ring this morning, Sammy wouldn’t have done a single one of his tricks. No animal can perform if it mopes!”
“I thought your chimpanzee was not doing so well this week,” said Mr. Britomart coldly. “I had thought I would get someone else in his place, when we leave this camp.”
“That suits me all right,” said Mr. Wally, going very red indeed. “In fact, that suits me fine! I’m not staying in any circus with you, Mr. Britomart. And let me tell you this—the whole circus will break up if you go about shouting stupid orders at us from morning to night! Why, you are spoiling the very things you ought to use! Look at this boy, Jimmy, here—he keeps all the animals happy—they all love him—and what do you do but forbid him to play with them! Pah!”
