“Now, Tinkle, we can have a nice talk,” said Tum Tum, a little later, when he came back from the parade. “Tell me about yourself, how you came to join the circus and, most of all, I want to hear about my old friend Dido.”

So Tinkle told all he could remember; telling first of the beautiful green meadow in which he had once lived, and of George who had taught him a few tricks, and of having been taken away by two men in the big moving van.

Then Tinkle told of having met Dido, of what the dancing bear had said, and of what he had told Tinkle about Tum Tum and Mappo, the merry monkey.

“Is Mappo in this circus?” asked Tinkle, as he finished his little story.

“Yes, and you’ll probably see him in a day or so,” answered Tum Tum.

That afternoon, when the performance was over, Mr. Drake, the man who had bought Tinkle from the man who had stolen him, came to where the pony was lying down in the tent and said:

“Now we’ll see what you know and how much I have to teach you. We will begin with some easy tricks.”

Then began a busy time for Tinkle, not only that day but for a number of days. When the circus was not traveling from one city to another or when a performance was not being held in the tents, Mr. Drake taught Tinkle tricks. Tinkle, the first time it occurred, did not know what was going to happen when, instead of being allowed to go to sleep after the show, he and the other ponies and animals were put in the big railroad cars and the whole train was hauled away by an engine.

Tinkle did not know what was happening but the other ponies told him it was all right, that he would not be hurt, that they were only going to another city to give a show there and that this happened nearly every day or night. Tinkle soon became used to travel, and rather liked it.

It would take too long to tell you how Tinkle was taught to do many different tricks. It was not so easy as at first he had thought it would be, and many times he could not understand what Mr. Drake wanted him to do.

In time he learned how to go to a box, in which were a number of flags or handkerchiefs, of different colors—red, white and blue.

“Bring me a blue flag,” Mr. Drake would say; and though at first Tinkle could not tell one color from another, he soon learned to do so. And he could tell, by hearing the word “blue,” that it was not the red or the white flag the trainer wanted, but the other. So, though Tinkle had no word in his own language for blue, he knew what that sound meant, and for which flag it stood.

“Now, Tinkle, bring me the red flag,” Mr. Drake would say, when the blue one had been dropped at his feet from the pony’s teeth. And Tinkle would pick out the right color. In time he could pick out of the box, and bring to the trainer, any of the three colors, no matter which one was asked for first. Tinkle hardly ever made a mistake.

“Well, now that you know red, white and blue,” said Mr. Drake one day, “suppose we put all three together, and this is what we get, Tinkle,” and he held up the beautiful United States flag, with its stripes of red and white and the white stars on the blue field. “Now, Tinkle when I ask you what flag you love best I want you to bring me from the box this red, white and blue one,” said the trainer, shaking the flag in front of the pony.

It was several days before Tinkle learned to do this trick, but, after a while, he could go to the box, pick out the red, white and blue flags, and then, at the last when the trainer asked the question about loving the flag, Tinkle would trot over to him carrying in his teeth the stars and stripes. Then Mr. Drake petted him and gave him two lumps of sugar, for he had done the trick well.

Nor were these all the tricks Tinkle learned. Mr. Drake taught him how to add and subtract simple numbers that the trainer wrote on a blackboard with chalk. Tinkle could not really add the numbers in his head, but when the trainer wrote down say a 3 and a 4 and said: “Tell me how much that is, Tinkle,” Tinkle would nod his head seven times. He knew Mr. Drake wanted him to nod seven times by the way the trainer spoke and by the words he used. If the sum were eight, on ten or some other number, the trainer would ask the question in a different way. So that Tinkle got to know numbers by listening to the different ways his trainer spoke the words to him, and it really seemed as though the pony could do sums in arithmetic.

Another trick Tinkle learned to do was to get letters from the “post-office.” Mr. Drake had a box made with partitions in it so that it looked like part of a post-office. Into the little squares, into which the big box was divided, the trainer would put cards with the names of different persons written on them—such as “John Jones,” or “Peter Smith” or “Mary Black.”

Each card was always put in the same place, and Mr. Drake taught Tinkle to trot up to the make-believe post-office. Then when asked: “Is there a letter for John Jones,” the pony would take out the right card. Tinkle learned to do this by listening to the different sounds of Mr. Drake’s voice just as happened when the numbers were called. A pony knows the different sounds of words, else how could he know enough to stop when “whoa!” is called, or that he should go when told to “gid-dap!”

“Well, now you know so many tricks, I think I’ll show you off before the people in the big circus tent,” said Mr. Drake one day. And that afternoon Tinkle was led out all alone. A new white bridle was put on him, and around him was put a red strap, on top of which, in the middle of the pony’s back, was fastened a gay, red, white and blue plume.

Tinkle had looked in, but had never been in the big circus tent before, where all the people were seated, and where the band was playing jolly tunes, with funnily painted clowns jumping here and there making the boys and girls laugh. And at first Tinkle was a bit frightened. But he looked over to where Tum Tum, the jolly elephant, was turning a hand organ with his trunk, and Tum Tum called in his pleasant voice:

“Steady there, Tinkle. Don’t be afraid. You’ll do all right.”

Then Tinkle felt better, and Mr. Drake patted him and gave him a lump of sugar before Tinkle had done even one trick.

“We’ll begin with the easy one—make a bow,” said the trainer.

Tinkle bowed his prettiest, and some boys and girls in the front row of seats clapped their hands and laughed. This made Tinkle feel glad, and he looked around, thinking he might see George or Mabel. But neither was in the tent.

Then the pony went through all his tricks—he added and subtracted numbers, he brought letters from the post-office and then he picked out the differently colored flags or handkerchiefs that Mr. Drake called for.

“Now, Tinkle,” said the trainer, after the pony had done some jumping, “tell the people which flag you love the best.”

Tinkle trotted over to the box where a number of flags of different countries had been put. The United States banner was at the bottom, but Tinkle knew that. He nosed around among all the flags until he found the one he knew he wanted, and with that in his teeth he trotted over to Mr. Drake, while the band played “The Star Spangled Banner.”

My! I wish you could have heard the people clap then. And how the boys and girls shouted with joy! They thought Tinkle was just the finest pony they had ever seen. And Mr. Drake patted him and gave him an extra large lump of sugar for behaving so nicely when he first did his tricks in public.

“I told you he’d make a good trick pony,” said Mr. Drake, as Tom led the little animal back to the tent.

“Yes, he’s a dandy!” replied the man. “I’ll give him a good feed of oats for this.”

And when Tinkle was back in his stall Prancer and Tiny Tim talked to him and told him how glad they were that he had done his tricks so well. Tinkle felt happy, for a while.

As the days went on, and the circus traveled from place to place, Tinkle gave many exhibitions of his smartness. He learned new tricks and he could do the old ones much more easily the oftener he practiced them, just as you can with your music lesson.

But though he liked it very much in the circus, Tinkle was sad. His animal friends could tell that by looking at him, and the pony did not eat as well as he had at first.

“Come now, Tinkle, tell me what the matter is,” came a voice behind him one day, and, turning, the pony saw a funny monkey seated in the straw on the ground.

“I am Mappo, the merry chap Tum Tum and Dido told you about,” went on the monkey. “I haven’t had time to come to see you before. I’ve been kept so busy in this circus.”

“Oh, yes, I remember Dido and Tum Tum speaking about you,” said Tinkle. “Thank you for coming to see me.”

“Well, you don’t look very happy over it,” said Mappo. “Come, what is the trouble? Why are you sad? Look at me, I’m merry enough for any one,” and Mappo turned a somersault that made Tinkle laugh in his pony way.

“Come! That’s better,” said Mappo. “Be jolly like Tum Tum. What is the matter, anyhow?”

“Oh, I feel sad when I think of the nice home I was taken from,” said Tinkle. “I miss George and Mabel, and I’d like to be with them again, to let them ride on my back or pull them about in the pony cart. That is why I am sad.”