No, that would not do. Jimmie went back to the entrance of the big tent. Perhaps if he stood there long enough the wind would blow the flap again and he would get a better view of the elephant. Then he heard someone crying, "Pink lemonade! Right this way for your circus lemonade. Al-l-l you can drink for a nickel!"
Jimmie looked at the great bowls of pink lemonade beside him.
"Try a little, son? Ice cold. Only a nickel a glass."
Jimmie hesitated a bit and then put his nickel down on the lemonade counter. He was very warm. The first sip made him feel better. He would drink it very slowly and not mind missing the circus--at least not very much.
A couple of young men hurried to the big tent. One stopped to throw away his cigarette. When Jimmie looked down he saw a thin finger of smoke in the hay that had been kicked out of the tent by the elephants. The hay blazed.
"Look!" cried Jimmie. "Fire!"
Even as he cried out he dashed his lemonade onto the flame. The fire died down for a second and then leaped again, racing along the bit of hay to the edge of the tent. The man behind the counter threw a dipper full of lemonade at the flame and missed it. He leaped over the counter, caught up one of the huge glass jars and poured the contents over the fire. The blaze died down, and others hurrying up, stamped it out. But a thin tongue of flame had escaped to one side. It sprang up and caught the flap of the tent on fire. Someone grabbed up the other jar of lemonade and poured most of it on the tent flap and the hay beneath.