The Magnificent Lizzie Brown and the Mysterious Phantom Read Online Free Page B

a stray dog.” He reached over the fence and patted one of the strange animals. “Dogs worry the animals.”
    Lizzie looked down at her shabby gray dress with dismay. “You thought I was a stray dog?”
    Malachy flushed. “Sorry.”
    The man smiled at her. “I’m Edward Fitzgerald. Most people call me Fitzy. And this is my son, Malachy.”
    Lizzie stuck out her hand. “I’m Lizzie.”
    â€œPleased to meet you, Lizzie.” Mr. Fitzgerald reached past Malachy and shook Lizzie’s hand. “What are you doing here? Are you lost?”
    â€œNo.” Lizzie lifted her chin. “I’m looking for work.”
    Mr. Fitzgerald rubbed his chin. “You look a bit skinny to be any good for hard work.”
    â€œI’ve worked since I was seven years old,” Lizzie retorted.
    Malachy looked at his father. “Why don’t we give her a try?” he suggested. “You were saying just this morning there’s more work than hands around here.”
    â€œWorkers cost money,” Mr. Fitzgerald said with a frown.
    â€œI don’t need much,” Lizzie told him quickly. “And I’ll tell you what — I’ll work for a whole week for you without takin’ a penny, just for food. If you don’t think I’m worth it by then, I’ll go away quiet.”
    Mr. Fitzgerald looked her up and down again. “I don’t know about that.”
    â€œI’m a hard worker,” Lizzie urged.
    â€œGo on, Pop,” Malachy chimed in.
    Mr. Fitzgerald scratched his head. “All right, then. I’ll give you a trial.”
    â€œYou won’t be sorry!” Lizzie wanted to hug him.
    â€œYou can’t sleep here, though,” Fitzy went on.
    Lizzie glanced at the sky. “It’s nearly dawn,” she pointed out. “I don’t need more sleep. I can start work now if you like.” She wanted to prove she was strong and willing.
    â€œBreakfast first,” Mr. Fitzgerald said. “Take her to Ma Sullivan, Mally,” he called over his shoulder as he ducked down and disappeared under the canvas wall of the big tent.
    â€œFollow me.” Malachy began to walk toward the caravans. His curly hair was cropped close to his head, and his body was wiry beneath his shirt and breeches. Despite the heavy boot on his misshapen foot, he moved fast, and Lizzie had to run to keep up, swerving around ropes and jumping over tent pegs as she went.
    The circus was already awake. A caravan door opened as they passed and a clown peered out.
    â€œI thought everyone’d sleep late,” Lizzie called after Malachy. “They must have worked till near midnight.”
    â€œDawn’s the best chance the performers get to practice,” Malachy answered. “No passersby gawking.”
    Two burly men with rolled-up sleeves crossed Lizzie’s path, and she stopped to let them by. One of them carried a heavy coil of rope slung across his chest. The other was wheeling a penny-farthing bicycle with a huge front wheel. An elegant young woman wrapped in a brightly embroidered shawl glided behind them, and Lizzie gasped as she passed.
    Malachy stopped and spun around. “What’s the matter?”
    Lizzie pointed at the young woman. “She’s got no clothes on!” Beneath the shawl she could see the young woman’s legs clad in nothing but spangled tights. “Where are her petticoats?”
    â€œThat’s her costume.” Malachy laughed. “She can’t practice in petticoats.”
    â€œPractice what?”
    â€œShe rides that bicylce on the high wire.”
    Lizzie gasped. “Not really!”
    Malachy grinned. “Her act is near the beginning of the show.” He pointed to a group of wiry youths turning somersaults, and Lizzie recognized the acrobats from the parade. “They usually come after her,” he told her.
    Nearby, Lizzie noticed a boy cantering in a circle on