Mr Galliano's Circus

by Enid Blyton

  Lotta made a face at him and gave him a pinch. Lucky licked her hand. Jimmy put her down on the grass. She tore round and round in excitement, smelling all the smells there were, and coming back to lick Jimmy’s shoes every other minute. The little boy was so pleased with his pet, the first one he had ever had. He went to show her to his mother and father.

  They were pleased with Lucky too. They both liked animals, though not so much as Jimmy did.

  “Mother, I’m going to pay for every single scrap of food that Lucky has,” said Jimmy. “I want her to be every bit my own dog. I shall teach her all kinds of tricks.”

  Lucky wagged her tail and pawed Jimmy’s legs. She thought Jimmy was the nicest person she had ever seen. She was only two and a half months old, but she knew the people she liked.

  Jimmy had a few very happy days getting to know his new puppy. He soon found that he had been right in choosing her, for she was really clever. She tried her hardest to understand all that Jimmy said to her.

  “Lucky has a wonderful memory, Lotta,” said Jimmy, one evening. “Once I teach her something she never seems to forget.”

  “That’s fine, Jimmy,” said Lotta. “If an animal has a good memory that’s half the battle. I guess Lucky will be famous when she’s older.”

  Lucky had a happy life. She had plenty of good food to eat, plenty of exercise, she was well brushed each day, and had so much love and petting that her little heart almost overflowed. All the circus-folk loved the merry little puppy—and Sammy the chimpanzee simply adored her. If only she would go into his cage and play with him he was perfectly happy!

  She slept with Jimmy each night, and although she didn’t chew the blankets, because Jimmy had none, she chewed plenty of other things. She chewed up his slippers, and his mother’s old mat, and his father’s pair of socks.

  But nobody really minded. She was one of the family now.

  LUCKY GOES TO SCHOOL

  Lucky the puppy grew fast. She was a smart little dog, bright-eyed and happy. She followed Jimmy as if she were his shadow.

  “Lucky, you’ll be going to school soon!” said Jimmy, patting her silky head. “You’ll have to learn all sorts of things and be a clever dog.”

  “Wuff, wuff!” said Lucky, pretending to bite Jimmy’s hand. She rolled over on her back and kicked all her legs up into the air. Lotta came over, laughing.

  “Isn’t she a darling?” said the little girl. “When are you going to teach her tricks, Jimmy?”

  “Right away,” said Jimmy; “I’ve got a bag of biscuits. Watch me teach Lucky to sit up and beg, Lotta!”

  Lotta sat down on the steps of Jimmy’s caravan and watched. Jimmy sat Lucky up straight, with her back to a box and her paws in the air.

  “Sit up, sit up, sit up!” he said, in a gentle, low voice. Lucky cocked her ears. She knew that voice well—when Jimmy spoke like that he wanted her to listen hard. She stayed where she was put, with her front legs in the air.

  “Good little dog,” said Jimmy, and he gave Lucky a biscuit. She gobbled it down in delight.

  “Do you want another biscuit?” asked Jimmy.

  “Wuff, wuff, wuff!” said Lucky. She was running round the biscuit bag.

  “You shall have one if you sit up, sit up, sit up!” said Jimmy. He gently put Lucky up again, so that she was begging—but this time there was no box behind her to lean on. Lucky didn’t mind. She could sit up straight by herself now she knew what Jimmy meant.

  She wanted to please Jimmy and she wanted a biscuit too. So she sat up straight, waving her paws in the air. “Now watch me teach Lucky to ask for a biscuit,” said Jimmy to Lotta.

  “Do you want a biscuit, Lucky?” said Jimmy, in his low voice. Lucky cocked her ears. She knew the word biscuit very well indeed!

  “Wuff!” she said in delight.

  “Then speak for it!” said Jimmy, holding out a biscuit. “No—sit up! Sit up! Speak for the biscuit.”

  “Wuff! Wuff! Wuff!” said Lucky joyfully. Jimmy threw her the biscuit and she caught it.

  “I say, Jimmy! Isn’t she clever!” said Lotta. “Fancy learning how to beg and how to ask for a biscuit in just one lesson.”

  “Yes—she’s a better pupil than you are,” said Jimmy. “It took you three lessons before you could say your alphabet.”

  Lotta made a face. “If you gave me biscuits each time, I might learn it quickly, like Lucky,” she said.

  “Well, it’s true that Lucky has learnt this trick very quickly,” said Jimmy. “But I don’t expect she will remember it. I shall have to teach her all over again tomorrow. I’ll make her do it a few times more for biscuits and then that will be enough lessons for today for her.”

  So Lucky sat up and begged a few more times and gobbled up the biscuits. Her little tail wagged hard. This was a fine way of getting biscuits!

  “Now for a walk, Lucky,” said Jimmy. “We’ll take all the dogs too, Lotta. Lucky can run loose. She never goes very far away from me.”

  Off they went for a long run. When they got right out on the heathery hills the two children slipped the dogs off the lead—all but two. The rest of them were now most obedient to Jimmy’s long, loud whistle and would always come racing to him as soon as they heard it, no matter how many rabbits they were chasing. As for Punch, whom Jimmy had cured of a bad illness, he, like Lucky, was never far away from the boy’s feet.

  Jimmy and Lotta lay in the heather and talked. Jimmy was never tired of hearing all the tales of the circus-folk.

  She was talking about elephants now. “You know, Jimmy,” she said, “elephants have longer memories than any other animals. They never forget or forgive an unkind deed.”

  “What! Do you mean to say that old Jumbo would remember that Harry, who ran off with the circus-money weeks ago, was unkind to him?” said Jimmy.

  “Yes, he remembers it,” said Lotta. “And if he saw Harry again he would try to pay him out for the unkind things he did to him.”

  “And does Jumbo remember the kind things that people do?” said Jimmy.

  “Of course,” said Lotta. “For instance, if you left the circus now, Jimmy, and didn’t come back till you were grown-up, Jumbo would know you and give you just as big a welcome as he gives you now. He never forgets a friend and he never forgets an enemy.”

  “I can’t understand anyone being unkind to animals,” said Jimmy. “They trust you so—and they all have such lovely, friendly eyes.”

  “Yes, haven’t they,” said Lotta looking into Lucky's soft brown eyes. “Perhaps, Jimmy, the people that don’t love animals haven’t ever looked right into their eyes.”

  Lucky licked Lotta’s nose. “You’re just one big lick,” said Lotta, wiping her nose. “You ought to have been called Licky, not Lucky.”

  Jimmy laughed. “You do say funny things Lotta,” he said. “Come on—it’s time to go back, Lucky! Bark for the other dogs.”

  Lucky lifted up her little black-brown head and barked her small puppy-bark. The children laughed. “Isn’t she obedient,” said Jimmy, pleased. He whistled loudly. From far and near came the sound of padding paws, and soon the ten terriers, with Lucky running round them, were trotting happily back to the circus. On the way they passed a lady with a fat, puffy wire-haired terrier.

  She stood and watched the circus-dogs go by. “Poor little dogs,” she said. “What a dreadful life they must lead in that circus! Look, Tinker-dog—how lucky you are to live with me, and not in a circus.”

  Jimmy and Lotta didn’t say a word when they passed the lady. But as soon as they were safely by, Lotta burst out in a rage.

  “How dare she say such a thing! Can’t she see how happy and well-cared for all our dogs are? Can’t she see their bright eyes and cocked ears and wagging tails?”

  “No, I don’t suppose she can,” said Jimmy. “Her poor dog is over-fed, and looks as if he had chocolates all day long. He was fat and waddley. If she only knew it, her dog is to be pitied, not ours.”

  They were soon back at the ci
rcus camp. They put the dogs into their big kennel-cage, and gave them a feed of biscuits. Lucky smelt them and wanted some too. She knew that she would have to wait till the other dogs were fed, and she wondered how to get something to eat quickly. She remembered how Jimmy had given her biscuits for begging.

  Mr. Tonks, the elephant keeper, was sitting nearby, eating some bread and cheese. Lucky ran up to him. She sat up on her hind-legs, and waved her front ones in the air.

  “Wuff!” she said. “Wuff!”

  Mr. Tonks laughed. “Hey, Jimmy!” he shouted. “Look at your pup. She’s begging for my dinner.”

  Lotta and Jimmy stared in surprise. Lucky still sat up, begging, wuffing loudly.

  “Well! If she isn’t the smartest little dog!” said Lotta. “She’s trying her trick on Tonky.”

  Jimmy was pleased. Lucky was even more clever than he had thought. What fun it was going to be to teach that bright little dog all kinds of things! Lucky should go to school with him every day, and he would teach her patiently and gently so that in the days to come she might go into the circus-ring at night too, and do tricks to amuse the people watching.

  So, day after day, Jimmy and Lucky worked together.

  The little dog loved her lessons. She was so bright and sometimes guessed what Jimmy meant her to do before he even showed her. In a week she could sit perfectly still with a biscuit on her nose until Jimmy said “Paid for!” and then she would throw it up into the air and catch it. All the usual tricks that ordinary household dogs learn, Jimmy taught Lucky in a few days. Then he began to teach her others.

  She walked easily on her hind legs. She carried a flag. She wheeled a little wooden pram with Lotta’s doll in it and even learnt to tuck up the doll. Jimmy’s father made the pram for Lucky, and it had a special handle so that her doggy paws could push it easily.

  The circus-folk laughed when they saw Lucky wheeling the pram about the camp. They gave her biscuits for it, and at last Jimmy had to keep the pram away from Lucky, for whenever she wanted a biscuit she would get it out and wheel it round the caravans.

  “Jimmy, that pup of yours will make your fortune one day—yes?” said Mr. Galliano, laughing. “When is she going into the ring?”

  “Not yet,” said Jimmy. “I want to teach her a few more things first. Have you seen her with Sammy the chimpanzee, Mr. Galliano? They are very funny together.”

  Mr. Galliano went over to Sammy’s big cage with Jimmy. Jimmy let the little dog in and Sammy ran to Lucky in delight. He picked up the little dog and nursed it like a baby. Then he and Lucky played ‘catch’ and tore round the cage in excitement. Jimmy passed Sammy a paper hat and Sammy caught Lucky and put it on her head. Mr. Galliano laughed.

  “A clever little dog,” he said. “She shall go into the ring one night with Lal—yes?”

  Mr. Galliano went off, his hat well on one side. He always wore it like that these days, for the circus was doing well. Huge crowds came to see Mr. Wally and Sammy each night, for the clever chimpanzee amused everyone very much.

  Jimmy slipped into the chimpanzee’s cage and had a game with him. He picked Lucky up in his arms and whispered into the little dog’s ear: “Did you hear what Mr. Galliano said? He said you could go into the ring one night and do your tricks for everyone to see. That will be a proud night for you and me, Lucky.”

  Jimmy was not only teaching Lucky, but he was trying his best to teach Sammy the only trick that Mr. Wally couldn’t seem to teach him—he was teaching him to clean his teeth. And how did Jimmy do it? Why, he found out that Sammy simply loved the taste of aniseed, and so he rubbed the toothbrush with oil of aniseed. When Sammy smelt the aniseed and tasted it, he was thrilled, and would rub his teeth with the brush as long as ever Jimmy would let him.

  Mr. Wally was pleased when he found that Jimmy had taught the chimpanzee this. He gave Jimmy five shillings and the little boy put it into the old box where he kept his savings. He had a lot of money there now.

  He did not know how soon he would spend it all!

  MR. WALLY HAS AN ACCIDENT

  The days went happily by. The circus was having a marvellous time, for Galliano’s beautiful horses were famous, and so were Lilliput’s clever little monkeys. Everyone loved Lal’s dogs too. But it was Mr. Wally’s chimpanzee that drew the biggest crowds. There had been many clever chimpanzees before, but not one quite so human as Sammy.

  Mr. Wally was making a lot of money, for Mr. Galliano paid him well. He bought himself a new little car to pull his caravan, and when it arrived he called all the circus-folk to see it.

  They stood round the little red car admiringly. Mr. Wally was the only one of them who owned a car.

  “Who’s coming for a ride in it?” said Mr. Wally. “It’s very fast—one of the best cars to be got nowadays. Now then—who’s for a ride?”

  But nobody seemed to want a ride. The circus-folk were used to going slowly in their caravans and nobody but Mr. Wally got very excited about cars. One by one the people looking on melted away, back to their work, and only Jimmy was left.

  “Would you like to come, Jimmy?” asked Mr. Wally.

  “I’d love to, Mr. Wally,” said Jimmy eagerly. But just then his father called him.

  “Jimmy! You’ve got to help me this morning. There’s a job here that needs two pairs of hands.”

  “Oh,” said Jimmy in disappointment. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Wally.”

  “I’ll take Sammy,” said Mr. Wally. “He always likes a car ride. Go and get him for me, Jimmy.”

  Jimmy fetched Sammy from his cage. He was dressed as usual in trousers and coat and straw hat. The big chimpanzee was delighted to go out with his beloved master. He knew the car was a new one and he ran his hairy paw over the smooth paint in delight. Sammy loved bright colours, especially red.

  “Get in, Sammy,” said Mr. Wally, settling himself behind the steering-wheel. Sammy leapt lightly over the door and sat down beside Mr. Wally in the front seat. He could open doors quite well, but it was easier to jump over them.

  “Goodbye, Sammy!” said Jimmy. Sammy waved his paw. “R-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!” went the engine of the car, and the little red thing set off across the bumpy circus-field and out of the big gate.

  Jimmy went to help his father. He worked hard all morning. He went to have a look at the chimpanzee as he was going to have his dinner—but to his surprise Sammy was not back.

  “Where’s Sammy?” he called to Mr. Tonks, who was oiling Jumbo to make him sleek and shining.

  “He hasn’t come back,” said Mr. Tonks. “Mr. Galliano’s getting worried. Wally should have been back two hours ago.”

  Just as Jimmy was sitting down outside his caravan to eat two big sausages that his mother had cooked for him, he saw a telegram-boy coming in at the gate. Jimmy’s heart stood still. Was it from Mr. Wally? Had there been an accident?

  The boy took the telegram to Mr. Galliano’s caravan. Jimmy ran to him. Mr. Galliano tore open the telegram and frowned.

  “No answer,” he said to the boy. “Look here!” he called to Mrs. Galliano. “Wally’s had an accident with that new car of his. He’s broken his leg—and Sammy’s disappeared!

  Now what are we to do? I am so worried.”

  Jimmy stared in dismay when he heard this. Mr. Wally with a broken leg—and Sammy gone! He must have been frightened in the accident and run away. Poor old Sammy!

  “Now we’ll have the people scared for miles around because the chimpanzee’s lost,” grumbled Mr. Galliano. “And there’s Wally in hospital with a broken leg—he can’t possibly go after Sammy—and what in the world shall we do when we do find Sammy! He can’t go into the ring without his keeper.”

  Jimmy felt something licking his hand. It was Lucky. An idea flashed into the little boy’s head. Could Lucky find Sammy for him? He had already taught the little dog how to find all kinds of things. He had only to say. “I’ve lost my handkerchief!” for Lucky to go and hunt for it till she found it. And if he said, “I’ve lost my purse,” or �
�I’ve lost my knife,” the puppy would run off to hunt at once. If it was any word she knew, Lucky would hunt till she found what was lost.

  “Suppose I took her to where the accident happened,” thought Jimmy. “And suppose I said to her, ‘I’ve lost Sammy!’ Would she be clever enough to find the chimpanzee, I wonder?”

  He went up the caravan steps to ask Mr. Galliano. But Mr. Galliano was too worried even to listen to Jimmy. He waved to him to go away.

  “I just wanted to know if I could go and . . .” began Jimmy. But Mr. Galliano roared at him angrily.

  “You will not go anywhere—no! Wally goes—and he does not come back, and Sammy is lost! Nobody will go anywhere today! You will stay in the camp!”

  Jimmy went off, disappointed. It was no use asking Mr. Galliano again. Lotta ran over to him, and he told her about Mr. Wally’s accident and how Sammy had run away.

  “I thought if I could take Lucky to the place where the accident happened and tell her Sammy was lost, perhaps she’d find him,” said Jimmy. “But Mr. Galliano won’t let me go out of the camp today—or anybody else either.”

  “Pooh!” said Lotta. “We’ll go, all the same.”

  Jimmy stared at the untidy little girl. “We can’t disobey Mr. Galliano,” he said. “I daren’t.”

  “Well, if you’re afraid of him, I’m not!” said Lotta. “I shall take Lucky myself, and see if she can find Sammy.”

  “You’re not to,” said Jimmy fiercely. “Lucky is my dog. Nobody else is to take her about but me.”

  “Well, if you won’t come I shall have to take her,” said Lotta, her eyes flashing angrily. “You’re a coward, Jimmy! You daren’t do something you know is the only thing to do, because you’re afraid of disobeying Mr. Galliano. I don’t care if he whips me, I’m going to find poor old Sammy! Think of him hiding away somewhere, scared out of his life, and perhaps being shot by somebody who is afraid of him.”

  Jimmy jumped up, alarmed. “Shot!” he said. “Surely nobody would shoot dear old Sammy!”

  “‘Course they would,” said Lotta. “It’s all very well to come and see a chimpanzee in a circus when his keeper is with him—but who wants to meet a chimpanzee down a lane or in their back garden? Nobody, outside of circus or Zoo-folks! Lucky! Lucky! Come with me. Goodbye Jimmy.”