Johnnie Green drove his pony, Twinkleheels, back over the road that led to the village. Now and then he stopped at a farmhouse to inquire whether anybody had seen old dog Spot, who had vanished on the way home from the circus the evening before.

Nobody had set eyes on him. And Johnnie Green drove on and on, feeling more and more miserable all the while.

At last, as he turned a sharp bend of the road, he heard a bark. There was no mistaking it. It was Spot's.

There was a joyful meeting then. Johnnie sprang out of the buggy and Spot sprang into his arms. And Johnnie hugged the old fellow tightly, right there in the middle of the road.

"What in the world has kept you here ever since yesterday?" Johnnie asked.

Spot must have understood. Anyhow, he dashed to one side of the road. And, following him, Johnnie found there a robe that belonged to his father. It had dropped out of the carryall the evening before, when the Green family were on their way home from seeing the circus. Nobody in the carriage had missed it. But old Spot, running under the carriage, had seen it fall. And he had stayed behind to guard it all through the long night.

Of course Spot couldn't tell Johnnie Green all this. But Johnnie wasn't slow in guessing what had happened.

He picked up the robe and put it under the seat of the little buggy. Then he and Spot both jumped in. And Johnnie turned Twinkleheels' head toward home.

Back at the farm almost everybody said that old dog Spot was a hero. Farmer Green exclaimed that Spot was a faithful old fellow. And Mrs. Green set out such a meal for him as Spot had never seen before in all his life.

Now, there were two or three of Spot's neighbors in the farmyard that didn't like the praise he was getting. Turkey Proudfoot, the gobbler, remarked that if people didn't know enough to come home to roost at night he saw no reason for making a fuss about it. Miss Kitty Cat declared that so far as she was concerned she would have been just as well pleased if Spot hadn't come back to the farm at all. And Henrietta Hen had more to say than anyone else. She hurried up to old dog Spot himself and insisted on talking with him.

"Huh!" she exclaimed. "You only spent one day at the circus, while last fall I stayed a whole week at the county fair."

"Did you hear a band at the fair?" Spot asked her.

"Yes!"

"Did you see any races?"

"There were races every day; but I didn't care to watch them," Henrietta Hen answered.

"Did you see any elephants at the fair?" Spot demanded.

"Elephants?" said Henrietta Hen. "What are elephants?"

Spot pointed—with his nose—to one of the posters on the barn.

"There's a picture of some elephants," he told her. "And I must say it's a good one."

"There were no elephants at the county fair," Henrietta Hen admitted as she gazed at the circus poster on the side of the barn. "Why, every one of them has two tails!" she cried. "I don't see how they know whether they're going backward or forward."

"Maybe they don't know," Spot retorted. "Maybe that's part of the fun in being an elephant. For I suppose there's fun of some sort in being anybody, even a-a-a—"

"Even a what?" Henrietta snapped. "Were you going to say a Hen?"

"I was," Spot replied. "But I remembered that it wouldn't be polite."

"I should say not!" Henrietta Hen cackled. "I should say not!" And then, being very angry, she hurried off to tell the rooster what had happened.

"I'll have to be careful how I talk to these farmyard folks," Spot muttered. "They haven't had a chance to learn some of the things that I know.

"For I've been to the village and seen the world—and the circus, too," added old dog Spot.