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The very next day the peculiars decided they would show Jacob their peculiarities with a performance they used to do in past. They used to travel through Europe to make some money with their ''circus''. 

They build a small wooden stage in backyard. Kids were bustling in and out of the house, carrying props, buttoning up suit jackets, and zipping into sequined dresses. Warming up was a little orchestra, made up of just an accordion, a battered trombone, and a musical saw that Horace played with a bow.

Emma with confused Jacob entered the backyard.

 "What's this?" he asked Emma. "Are you guys putting on a play?"

"You'll see," she said. "Who's in it?"

 "You'll see." 

"What's it about?"

A whistle blew and everyone ran to claim seats in a row of folding chairs that faced the stage. Emma and Jacob sat down just as the curtain opened, revealing a straw boater hat floating atop a gaudy red-and-white striped suit. It was Millard. 

"Ladieeees and gentlemen!" he crowed. "It gives me the utmost pleasure to present to you a performance like no other in history! A show of such unrivaled daring, of such accomplished magicianship, that you simply won't believe your eyes! Good citizens, I give you Miss Peregrine and Gyrfalcon and their Peculiar Children!"

The audience burst into uproarious applause. Millard tipped his hat.

"For our first illusion, I will produce Miss Gyrfalcon and Miss Peregrine themself!" He ducked behind the curtain and emerged a moment later, a folded sheet draped over one arm and a peregrine falcon perched on the other while a gyrfalcon sat on the boys shoulder. He nodded to the orchestra, which lurched into a kind of wheezing carnival music.
Millard set the falcons down and held the sheet in front, screening the birds from the audience. He began counting backward. 

"Three, two, one!" On "one" the unmistakable flap of wings could be heard and then headmistresses heads popped up from behind the sheet to even more uproarious applause. 

"Mr. Portman!" Miss Peregrine said, peering down at him from the stage. Miss Gyrfalcon smiled brightly at him. "I'm so happy you've returned. This is a little exhibition we used to tour around the Continent back in the halcyon days. I thought you might find it instructive." And then they left the stage and joined the others in audience.

One after another, the peculiar children came out of the audience and took the stage, each with an act of their own. Millard removed his tuxedo so that he was completely invisible and juggled glass bottles. Olive removed her leaden shoes and performed a gravity-defying gymnastics routine on a set of parallel bars. Emma made fire, swallowed it, then blew it out again without burning herself. 

When Emma returned to her seat, Jacob turned to her and said, "I don't understand. You performed this for people?"

 "Of course," she replied.

"Normal people?" 

"Of course, normal people. Why would peculiars pay to see things they can do themselves?"

"But wouldn't this, like, blow your cover?" She chuckled. "Nobody suspected a thing," she said. "People come to sideshows to see stunts and tricks and what-all, and as far as anybody knew that's exactly what we showed them." 

"So you were hiding in plain sight." 

"Used to be the way most peculiars made a living," she said.

"And no one ever caught on?" 

"Once in a while we'd get some knob-head backstage asking nosey questions, which is why there'd always be a strong-arm on hand to toss them out on their bums. Speak of the devil — here she is now!"

Up on stage, a mannish-looking girl was dragging a boulder the size of a small refrigerator out from behind the curtain. 

"She may not be the sharpest tool in the woodshed," Emma whispered, "but she's got a massive heart and she'd go to the grave for her mates. We're thick as thieves, Bronwyn and me." 

Someone had passed around a stack of promotional cards Miss Peregrine had used to advertise their act. On Bronwyn's card was a picture of her where she stood barefoot, challenging the camera with an icy stare. Emblazoned across the back was THE AMAZING STRONG-GIRL OF SWANSEA! 

"Why isn't she lifting a boulder, if that's what she does on stage?" Jacob asked.

 "She was in a foul mood because the Bird made her 'dress like a lady' for the picture. She refused to lift so much as a hatbox." 

"Looks like she drew the line at wearing shoes, too."

 "She generally does."

Bronwyn finished dragging the rock to the middle of the stage, and for an awkward moment she just stared into the crowd, as if someone had told her to pause for dramatic effect. Then she bent down and gripped the rock between her big hands and slowly lifted it above her head. Everyone clapped and hooted. Bronwyn yawned and walked off with the boulder tucked under one arm.

 Then the wild haired girl took the stage. Her name was Fiona. She stood facing the crowd behind a planter filled with dirt, her hands raised above it like a conductor. The orchestra began to play "Flight of the Bumblebee"  and Fiona pawed the air above the planter, her face contorted in effort and concentration. As the song crescendoed, a row of daisies poked up from the dirt and unfurled toward her hands. The kids ate it up, jumping out of their seats to cheer her on. Emma flipped through the stack of postcards to Fiona's. 

"Her card's my favorite," she said. "We worked for days on her costume." She was dressed like a beggar girl and stood holding a chicken.

 "What's she supposed to be?" Jacob asked. "A homeless farmer?" Emma pinched him. 

"She's meant to look natural, like a savage-type person. Jill of the Jungle, we called her."

"Is she really from the jungle?"

"She's from Ireland."

"Are there a lot of chickens in the jungle?" Hugh had joined Fiona on stage. He stood with his mouth open, letting bees fly out to pollinate the flowers that Fiona had grown.

There were a few more acts after Fiona and Hugh left the stage but by then the kids were getting antsy, and soon they dispersed to spend the rest of the day in summerly bliss: lazing in the sun sipping limeade; playing croquet; tending to gardens that, thanks to Fiona, hardly needed tending; discussing options for lunch.

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''All older children left to beach with Jacob.'' Mariana announced to Alma as she entered their office. Alma raised her head from letters and looked at Mariana, who walked towards the window and opened it. She watched their younger children playing outside. 

''Have any new letters arrived?'' She asked and walked towards Alma desk. Miss Peregrine didn't say anything and just handed the other woman the letters. There were two of them. One was from Esmeralda Avocet and another was from Isabel Cuckoo.

 ''It doesn't look good, Mariana.'' Alma said with concern. 

Dear Alma and Mariana,

I trust this missive finds you in good health. 

Miss Bunting and I've received many letters. Wights have raid a lot of loops. Many Ymbrynes have vanished and their children were killed.

Keep your mind sharp, don't lose you focus. Don't let them surprise you.

Be cautions, 

Esmeralda Avocet.

Mariana took a sharp breath. She looked at her wife, who smoked from her pipe while watching their children. Mariana read the other letter.

Dear Mariana and Alma,

Esmeralda wrote me a letter regarding raiding of the loops. I hope both you and your children are safe and in good health. My children and myself are perfectly safe, for now .

Please write me soon.

With love,

Isabel.

''Don't worry, lasko. We're safe. Caul doesn't remember where our loop is. There's no way he or his puppets would find us.'' Mariana said as she put the letters down on Alma's deck. 

''I know, but I still have this bad feeling. There is still a what if...'' 

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Jacob left the loop before a dinner. But before he left, he said a lot of things about the future to the children. And Alma and Marina weren't pleased with what. 

''Good morning, Jacob. A word please?'' Mariana asked the boy as he entered the house. Jacob jumped slightly surprised by the headmistress. 

''Oh good morning, Miss.'' They walked to sitting room and Mariana gestured to sofa for Jacob to sit.

''Before I start the lecturing. Are you enjoying your time with us?''

 ''I am. Very much, Miss.'' Mariana smiled at him. 

''That's good to hear. Children are very happy about your visit. However,'' she didn't smile anymore and Jacob knew that she wasn't happy about something, probably about something that he did. ''Miss Peregrine and I would appreciate if you wouldn't talk about your time with our children.'' 

"Children? Is that really how you think of them?" Mariana looked at him sternly.

 "It is how they regard themselves as well," she said testily. "What would you call them?" 

"Children, I guess."

 "Indeed. Now, as I was saying," she said, emphasizing her words with little cleaver-chops of her hand on the range, "do you think it's wise to discuss the future with children from the past?" 

"No?" 

"Ah, but apparently you do! I know this because last night at dinner we were treated by Hugh to a fascinating disquisition on the wonders of twenty-first-century telecommunications technology." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. 

"I don't understand," he said. "Is that a problem?" 

"As an ymbrynes, it is our sworn duty to keep those children safe and above all that means keeping them here — in the loop — on this island." 

"Okay."

"Yours is a world they can never be part of, Jacob. So what's the use in filling their heads with grand talk about the exotic wonders of the future? Now you've got half the children begging for a jet-airplane trip to America and the other half dreaming of the day when they can own a telephone-computer like yours."

 "I'm sorry. I didn't realize." 

"This is their home. We have tried to make it as fine a place as we could. But the plain fact is they cannot leave, and we'd appreciate it if you didn't make them want to."

"But why can't they?"

Mariana remembered how Jacob didn't know almost anything about their world. She sighed and said with calm voice.  "They cannot linger in your world, because in a short time they would grow old and die."

"What do you mean, die?"

 "I'm not certain how I can be more direct. They'll die, Jacob." She spoke tersely, wishing to put the topic behind them as quickly as possible. "It may appear to you that we've found a way to cheat death, but it's an illusion. If the children loiter too long on your side of the loop, all the many years from which they have abstained will descend upon them at once, in a matter of hours."

"That's awful," he said with a shudder.

 "The few instances of it that I've had the misfortune to witness are among the worst memories of my life. And let me assure you, I've lived long enough to see some truly dreadful things."

 "Then it's happened before."

"To a young girl under our own care, regrettably, a number of years ago. Her name was Charlotte. It was the first and last time Miss Peregrine and I ever took a trip to visit one of our sister ymbrynes. In that brief time Charlotte managed to evade the older children who were minding her and wander out of the loop. It was 1985 or '86 at that time, I believe. Charlotte was roving blithely about the village by herself when she was discovered by a constable. When she couldn't explain who she was or where she'd come from — not to his liking, anyhow — the poor girl was shipped off to a child welfare agency on the mainland. It was two days before we could reach her, and by that time she'd aged thirty-five years."

"I think I've seen her picture," he said. "A grown woman in little girl's clothes." Miss Gyrfalcon nodded somberly. "She never was the same after that. Not right in the head." 

"What happened to her?"

"She lives with Miss Nightjar now. Miss Nightjar and Miss Thrush take all the hard cases."

"But it's not as if they're confined to the island, is it?" he asked. "Couldn't they still leave now, from 1940?"

"Yes, and begin aging again, as normal. But to what end? To be caught up in a ferocious war? To encounter people who fear and misunderstand them? And there are other dangers as well. It's best to stay here."

"What other dangers?" Miss Gyrfalcon's face clouded, she regretted having brought it up.

 "Nothing you need concern yourself with. Not yet, at least. That's all we wanted to discuss, you can go now.'' She smiled at him sadly. 

''What other dangers?'' He asked again. ''Enjoy the morning, goodbye.'' And she left. 

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