Just as they were starting Dumpty said, with a sigh, to the kind gipsy
woman, "Thank you very, very much, and will you, please, tell the clown
how sorry I am that I have not seen him to speak to?"
"'Ere I am, young mon--'ere I am!"
It was Bill who spoke. The twins could not believe their ears.
"Are you the clown?" said Dumpty in an awestruck voice; "are you really
and truly the clown?"
Bill jerked the reins, and the piebald pony set off at a weary trot.
"Yes, missie, I am the clown," he said.
"Where's your nose?" asked Humpty suspiciously.
"One's on my face--t'other's in the dressing-up box," answered the man,
with a shout of laughter.
"Then you're not Poor Jane's brother?" said Dumpty.
"Don't know nuffun about Poor Jine--we've got only one Jine here, and
that's the monkey, and she ain't my sister, leastways it's to be hoped
as she in't."
But although it was disappointing to find that the clever clown was only
Bill all the time, the twins enjoyed their drive home, for Bill told
them many wonderful tales of his life in the ring, and of the animals
which he had trained.
Soon they came to the village, which looked so strange and quiet by the
early morning light, with the cottage-doors all shut, and the windows
closed and the blinds drawn. Humpty jumped down to open the gate leading
up the drive, and there on the doorstep were mummie and daddy, looking
so white and ill, who had come out of the house at the sound of the
wheels on the gravel to greet them.
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