Not like chameleons

Frederick H. Brightman

One of my happiest experiences as a boy was going to the circus with my father. Some years we would go early in the morning and watch the work crew raise the big tent. Everyone worked together—some hauling heavy ropes while others drove big stakes into the ground.

After the show we would get cotton candy and look at the animals in their cages. Sometimes the clowns would pose for pictures.

One year we met a man who was selling chameleons. These little lizards can change color to match whatever background they are on. I bought one with my circus money.

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