"Sure， I' ll get you one，" said my brother. Running quickly to an old barrel， he lifted off one of the steel bands. He dashed back and handed it to the hobo.
From beneath his old battered hat the hobo' s blue eyes sparkled. A smile broke through his heavy gray beard.
"Watch this， " he said. "Less you boys been to a circus you ain' t never seen anything like this."
He walked out into the yard and held the loop a couple of feet above the ground.
"Get ready，" he said to Jacky， again using that strange sounding name. Jacky trembled with excitement. On command he sprang forward and leaped through the loop—forward， then backward. As commands continued， he hurled through the hoop， turning end over end. He danced on his hind legs， then on his front legs. My brothers and I stared in awe as the knowledgeable old hobo put Jacky through his circus tricks.
"He' s a little rusty on some of？ but he sure ain' t forgetting any of it，" said the hobo. "Sure is great being together again. Brings back memories， don' t it little friend？" he said fondly as he patted Jack' s head.
Then with a forlorn look about him， he straightened up. "I guess I best be going，" he mumbled and headed slowly towards the gate.Without hesitation， Jacky followed at his heels.
"Jacky， come back！ " all three of us called. But it did no good.Tears trickled down our cheeks. We knew we had lost him.
Then the hobo paused. Looking down at Jacky， he said， "Our circus days is over， friend. Over and done. And the tramping life' s no life for you. You best stay here." Jacky stood， watching the hobo walk away， still poised to follow.
Reaching the gate the man stood motionless for several seconds， then slowly turned around. "Boys， a circus dog never forgets the big top，" he said， "You' d better lock him in the house till morning. I' d hate to see you lose him."