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[Illustration: This book belongs to]




                   Clown the Circus Dog




[Illustration: Clown the Circus Dog]




                          CLOWN

                     The Circus Dog

                 Story and Illustrations
                            By

                         A. Vimar
             Author of "The Curly-Haired Hen"

               Translated by Nora K. Hills

[Illustration: Clown the Circus Dog]

              The Reilly & Britton Company
                         Chicago




                     Copyright, 1917
                           by
                 The Reilly & Britton Co.


                 _Clown, the Circus Dog_




                  _To My Little Daughter
                     Genevieve Vimar_


[Illustration: Child with cat and dog]




Table


     Clown's Puppy Days                      15

     The Capture of Clown                    43

     Clown Escapes                           54

     Clown at the Circus                     64

     The Return Home                        101


[Illustration: Dog on book]




Clown, the Circus Dog




1

CLOWN'S PUPPY DAYS


Summer was here at last. The winter had not been very cold, but it had
stayed long after spring should have come. Now it seemed almost too
warm, perhaps because only a few days before it had been so cold.

[Illustration: Desk with books, paper, quill, laurel wreaths]

It was the end of the school-year, the time for examinations and the
giving of prizes, and these last few days were hard on both teachers
and children.

[Illustration: Girl with dogs]

Already a holiday breeze was blowing over the budding and blossoming
country, and the hum of insects and the singing of birds made one think
of the fun that would come with vacation.

Among the scholars bending over their desks was Bertha, a little
dark-haired girl, her black eyes fringed with long lashes. She was
twelve years old and was working for her first certificate. Morning and
afternoon she came to the school, sometimes brought by the maid, but
more often by her mother.

As a child she had always been petted and spoiled by her parents, who
gave her all the candies and toys she wanted. Her little room was
crowded with dolls and playthings of all sorts, each of which had its
name.

There were fair dolls, dark dolls, white dolls, black dolls, big
dolls--some even were life-size--fat dolls, thin dolls, little dolls,
tiny dolls; there were jointed dolls, who opened and shut their eyes;
there were dolls who could talk, and dolls who kept silent. I believe
myself that Bertha loved the silent ones best; they could not answer
back, you see.

Uncle Jean, the brother of Bertha's father, had made a point of giving
Bertha her first toy. He brought her, one fine morning, a lovely white
poodle, which had pink silk ribbons on it and little tinkly bells.
There was a spring inside, and when Bertha pressed this gently with
her fingers, the dog barked. It was altogether so well made that you
would have thought it was alive.

When he gave it to her, before the whole family, Uncle Jean made her
the following speech:

[Illustration: Desk with toys...and dog puppet]

"My dear niece, I give you this dog rather than a doll, because the
dog is the friend of man, but a doll--" here he mumbled into his big
moustache a lot of long words which got so mixed up with the barking of
the dog that nobody could catch them. Perhaps it was just as well.

[Illustration: Woman with child, man with dog]

Uncle Jean was always saying funny clever things to make people laugh
but really he was very wise and thoughtful. Everybody liked him and he
was invited places all the time.

So Bertha's first plaything was this dog, who was then and there given
the name of "Clown." Why they hit upon this name I really cannot say.

After the dog there came, one by one, all the dolls I just told you
about, but Bertha loved Clown best. You see, he was the only dog she
had, but there were many dolls to share her love.

[Illustration: Bertha and dog puppet]

Every night he was put to bed at the feet of his little mistress, who,
each morning as she woke up, took him into her arms and hugged him
tight.

Later on, as Bertha grew older, she would talk to him for hours, Clown
answering with long barks, really made by Bertha's fingers pressing on
the spring.

They were then, as I was just now telling you, on the eve of the
examinations. Bertha was working her hardest. For several days she had
been very, very quiet, and just a little worried; her parents were
quite anxious and petted her even more than usual.

[Illustration: Bertha and her mother]

At last one morning, when her mother asked her what was the matter,
Bertha decided to tell her all about it. After a long sigh