The bays had to step lively that morning, for Farmer Green's family didn't want to be late for the circus parade in the village.

There were many other teams on the road, and almost nobody to be seen working in the fields. It seemed to Johnnie Green as if everybody had made up his mind to go to the circus. The only thing that troubled him was that his father didn't drive fast enough to suit him.

Half way from the farm to the village Farmer Green stopped the bays at a watering trough. Johnnie jumped out of the carryall to uncheck them, so they could drink. And there, beneath the carriage, was old dog Spot!

"Spot's followed us!" Johnnie Green cried.

The old dog whisked out from between the wheels and frolicked about Johnnie. He didn't act at all guilty.

"Well, I never!" said Farmer Green. "I certainly shut the barn door after I shoved him inside."

Spot gave a few short, sharp barks, as if to say, "Yes! But you forgot the window that was open."

He had scrambled through the window and overtaken the carryall before it reached the gristmill.

Well, what could Farmer Green do? They had come too far to send Spot back home.

"We'll have to take him with us now," said Johnnie Green's father, "though he'll be a nuisance because the village will be crowded to-day."

As soon as the bays had had their drink the party started on again. And old dog Spot was content. He did not mind the dust that the bays' heels kicked up as he followed beneath the carriage. And the faster they trotted, the more they pleased him; for he was as anxious as Johnnie Green to get to town and see the crowds and the fun.

Once a surly dog ran out from a farmhouse and tried to reach him. That made Spot somewhat uneasy.

"I don't want to stop to fight this fellow," he thought. "If I do, I'll be left behind."

Luckily Farmer Green cut at the strange dog with his whip and bade him be off.

Spot grinned as he sneaked away, yelping.

At last they entered the village. Main Street was thronged with people. Carriages and wagons of all sorts lined the road on both sides—glistening buggies with red ribbons tied in bows about the whip stocks, old lumber wagons with chairs set behind the driver's seat.

Johnnie Green had never seen such a gathering—not even at the fair.

"The whole county's here!" he exclaimed. "I hope we'll find a good place to stop, where we can see the parade."

They did. Farmer Green backed the bays into the last open space in the gutter. And Johnnie Green was greatly relieved.

The crowd made such a roar, with its talking and laughter, that old Spot cowered down under the carryall and almost wished he had stayed at home. The cries of men selling peanuts and popcorn, squawkers and toy balloons, mingled with the shouts of small boys and the squeals of their sisters.

"Goodness!" Spot murmured. "What a racket! It hurts my ears."

A moment later he stuck his nose out from beneath the carriage and burst into a mournful howl.

"Keep still!" Farmer Green ordered.

Little did he know, then, what made Spot cry like that. But in a minute or two Johnnie Green heard the same thing that Spot's sharp ears had caught first. And Johnnie howled too.

"Hear the band!" he shouted. "Hurrah! The parade's coming!"