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“And better write-ups in the press. Victoria Park will be our best show ever!”
    Malachy whispered in Lizzie’s ear, “The papers don’t usually have anything good to say about us circus folk.”
    â€œNow, back to work.” Fitzy looked at his pocketwatch. “The first show starts in four hours.”
    As the crowd melted away, Malachy glanced at Lizzie. “How are you enjoying circus life?”
    â€œIt’s brilliant!” Lizzie winked at him. “Almost worth being poked awake with a stick.” Malachy looked sheepish, and Lizzie nudged him playfully. “I’m joking,” she said. “I never thanked you for convincing your pa to take me on.”
    Malachy shrugged. “You’re welcome.” Lizzie thought she saw him blush as he turned and hobbled away between the booths.
    Erin tugged Lizzie’s sleeves. “You’re coming to watch us practice, aren’t you?”
    â€œNext time,” Lizzie promised. Right now, she wanted to make herself as useful as she could. She began to pick her way around the show tent, hopping over the ropes until she spotted a large man heaving a tall pole onto its end. She rushed to help.
    â€œLet me hold it,” Lizzie said. She ducked under the man’s elbow and clung onto the pole, holding it in place while the man fixed its ropes onto pegs.
    â€œYou’re strong for a little ’un.” The man’s voice was deep. Lizzie glanced at him and suddenly realized he was the tallest man she’d ever seen. He held out a huge hand for her to shake. “I’m Mario.”
    Lizzie stared up at him. “Mario the Mighty! From the poster! You’re the circus giant.”
    He must be ten feet tall! Lizzie thought. She wondered what he’d look like standing next to Anita.
    Mario nodded toward another tent pole. “If I lift that into place can you do some more holding while I fix the ropes?”
    Lizzie nodded and braced herself, ready to take the weight of the pole as Mario heaved it up onto its end.
    â€œDid you hear about the mayor?” Mario asked as he looped a rope around a peg.
    Lizzie nodded and hugged the pole. “It’s great that he’s opening the circus in Victoria Park.”
    â€œIf that don’t bring the crowds in, nothing will.” Mario grinned. “The mayor’s a good ’un. He knows what it’s like to come from poverty.”
    Lizzie pricked her ears. “Really?” She remembered the twang in the mayor’s voice.
    â€œHe was raised in Jacob’s Island,” Mario told her.
    Jacob’s Island. Lizzie could hardly believe it. That was more of a slum than Rat’s Castle. Pa used to say, “Just be grateful you ain’t stuck in Jacob’s Island. They feed their babies to dogs there.”
    Lizzie shivered. “How did he get out?”
    â€œHe worked his way out,” Mario told her. “From errand boy to mayor and not a false step in between.”
    â€œI seen him the first night I was here,” Lizzie told Mario. “He gave me soup and a penny. Best soup I ever tasted. I was starving.”
    Mario looked at her quizzically. “Where are you from?”
    â€œRat’s Castle,” Lizzie replied.
    Mario shook his head and lifted another tent pole. “You’re better off here.”
    Lizzie rushed to help balance it. “Don’t I know it!”
    â€œPoverty can do evil things to a man’s soul.”
    Lizzie thought of Pa and shuddered.
    * * *
    â€œIs Harry here?” Lizzie peeked through the tent doorway. A foul stink hit her nose, and she covered it with her hand. It was the end of a long day. Dusk was falling, and the crowds were gathering outside.
    A boy was sitting on a stool near an elephant. “I’m Hari,” he said.
    â€œHari.” Lizzie repeated the name, copying the boy’s soft accent. It felt clumsy on her tongue.
    â€œIt’s Indian,”