He waits inside the barrel. He peeks out through a bunghole in its side.
He does not see or hear anyone close by, so he knows he has not been
noticed. He grins, chuckles, and gleefully rubs his palms.
Abercrombie takes another peek through the peephole. The way is clear.
Taking a deep breath, he tightens his muscles, and leaps out of the barrel.
Rearing up on to his hind legs, his heavy tail straight out behind him
Abercrombie dashes into and across the circus rink. His stumpy arms
wave furiously, and his head is high and wags from side to side for
balance. His legs pump and pound so fast they look blurry, like bicycle
spokes when the wheels turn fast.
Bumble, the Bee, Ringmaster of the circus, sees Abercrombie racing
across the ring and the direction in which he is heading.
'Stop, stop,' he shouts.
Abercrombie pays no attention. He reaches a ladder attached to a red
and white pole on the side of the center ring. The top of the pole is close
to the tent's peak, and that's really high. A ladder is fastened to the pole
all the way to the top.
Abercrombie wraps his stumpy arms around the pole and begins to
climb the ladder.
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