Title: Toby Tyler; Or, Ten Weeks with a Circus
Author: Otis, James
Language: English
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TOBY TYLER

or

TEN WEEKS WITH A CIRCUS

By James Otis



I. TOBY’S INTRODUCTION TO THE CIRCUS


“Wouldn’t you give more ‘n six peanuts for a cent?” was a question asked
by a very small boy, with big, staring eyes, of a candy vender at a
circus booth. And as he spoke he looked wistfully at the quantity of
nuts piled high up on the basket, and then at the six, each of which now
looked so small as he held them in his hand.

“Couldn’t do it,” was the reply of the proprietor of the booth, as he
put the boy’s penny carefully away in the drawer.

The little fellow looked for another moment at his purchase, and then
carefully cracked the largest one.

A shade--and a very deep shade it was--of disappointment passed over his
face, and then, looking up anxiously, he asked, “Don’t you swap ‘em when
they’re bad?”

The man’s face looked as if a smile had been a stranger to it for a long
time; but one did pay it a visit just then, and he tossed the boy two
nuts, and asked him a question at the same time. “What is your name?”

The big brown eyes looked up for an instant, as if to learn whether
the question was asked in good faith, and then their owner said, as he
carefully picked apart another nut, “Toby Tyler.”

“Well, that’s a queer name.”

“Yes, I s’pose so, myself; but, you see, I don’t expect that’s the
name that belongs to me. But the fellers call me so, an’ so does Uncle
Dan’l.”

“Who is Uncle Daniel?” was the next question. In the absence of other
customers the man seemed disposed to get as much amusement out of the
boy as possible.

“He hain’t my uncle at all; I only call him so because all the boys do,
an’ I live with him.”

“Where’s your father and mother?”

“I don’t know,” said Toby, rather carelessly. “I don’t know much about
‘em, an’ Uncle Dan’l says they don’t know much about me. Here’s another
bad nut; goin’ to give me two more?”

The two nuts were given him, and he said, as he put them in his pocket
and turned over and over again those which he held in his hand: “I
shouldn’t wonder if all of these was bad. S’posen you give me two for
each one of ‘em before I crack ‘em, an’ then they won’t be spoiled so
you can’t sell ‘em again.”

As this offer of barter was made, the man looked amused, and he asked,
as he counted out the number which Toby desired, “If I give you these,
I suppose you’ll want me to give you two more for each one, and you’ll
keep that kind of a trade going until you get my whole stock?”

“I won’t open my head if every one of em’s bad.”

“All right; you can keep what you’ve got, and I’ll give you these
besides; but I don’t want you to buy any more, for I don’t want to do
that kind of business.”

Toby took the nuts offered, not in the least abashed, and seated himself
on a convenient stone to eat them, and at the same time to see all that
was going on around him. The coming of a circus to the little town of
Guilford was an event, and Toby had hardly thought of anything else
since the highly colored posters had first been put up. It was yet quite
early in the morning, and the tents were just being erected by the men.
Toby had followed, with eager eyes, everything that looked as if it
belonged to the circus, from the time the first wagon had entered the
town until the street parade had been made and everything was being
prepared for the afternoon’s performance.

The man who had made the losing trade in peanuts seemed disposed to
question the boy still further, probably owing to the fact that he had
nothing better to do.

“Who is this Uncle Daniel you say you live with? Is he a farmer?”

“No; he’s a deacon, an’ he raps me over the head with the hymn book
whenever I go to sleep in meetin’, an’ he says I eat four times as much
as I earn. I blame him for hittin’ so hard when I go to sleep, but I
s’pose he’s right about my eatin’. You see,” and here his tone grew both
confidential and mournful, “I am an awful eater, an’ I can’t seem to
help it. Somehow I’m hungry all the time. I don’t seem ever to get
enough till carrot time comes, an’ then I can get all I want without
troublin’ anybody.”

“Didn’t you ever have enough to eat?”

“I s’pose I did; but you see Uncle Dan’l he found me one mornin’ on his
hay, an’ he says I was cryin’ for something to eat then, an’ I’ve kept
it up ever since. I tried to get him to give me money enough to go into
the circus with; but he said a cent was all he could spare these hard
times, an’ I’d better take that an’ buy something to eat with it, for
the show wasn’t very good, anyway. I wish peanuts wasn’t but a cent a
bushel.”

“Then you would make yourself sick eating them.”

“Yes, I s’pose I should; Uncle Dan’l says I’d eat till I was sick, if I
got the chance; but I’d like to try it once.”

He was a very small boy, with a round head covered with short red hair,
a face as speckled as any turkey’s egg, but thoroughly good natured
looking; and as he sat there on the rather sharp point of the rock,
swaying his body to and fro as he hugged his knees with his hands, and
kept his eyes fastened on the tempting display of good things before
him, it would have been a very hard hearted man who would not have given
him something.

But Mr. Job Lord, the proprietor of the booth, was a hard hearted man,
and he did not make the slightest advance toward offering the little
fellow anything.

Toby rocked himself silently for a moment, and then he said,
hesitatingly, “I don’t suppose you’d like to sell me some things, an’
let me pay you when I get older, would you?”

Mr. Lord shook his head decidedly at this proposition.

“I didn’t s’pose you would,” said Toby, quickly; “but you didn’t seem
to be selling anything, an’ I thought I’d just see what you’d say
about it.” And then he appeared suddenly to see something wonderfully
interesting behind him, which served as an excuse to turn his reddening
face away.

“I suppose your uncle Daniel makes you work for your living, don’t he?”
 asked Mr. Lord, after he had rearranged his stock of candy and had added
a couple of slices of lemon peel to what was popularly supposed to be
lemonade.

“That’s what I think; but he says that all the work I do wouldn’t pay
for the meal that one chicken would eat, an’ I s’pose it’s so, for I
don’t like to work as well as a feller without any father and mother
ought to. I don’t know why it is, but I guess it’s because I take up so
much time eatin’ that it kinder tires me out. I s’pose you go into the
circus whenever you want to, don’t you?”

“Oh yes; I’m there at every performance, for I keep the stand under the
big canvas as well as this one out here.”

There was a great big sigh from out Toby’s little round stomach, as he
thought what bliss it must be to own all those good things and to see
the circus wherever it went.

“It must be nice,” he said, as he faced the booth and its hard visaged
proprietor once more.

“How would you like it?” asked Mr. Lord, patronizingly, as he looked
Toby over in a business way, very much as if he contemplated purchasing
him.

“Like it!” echoed Toby. “Why, I’d grow fat on it!”

“I don’t know as that would be any advantage,” continued Mr. Lord,
reflectively, “for it strikes me that you’re about as fat now as a boy
of your age ought to be. But I’ve a great mind to give you a chance.”

“What!” cried Toby, in amazement, and his eyes opened to their widest
extent as this possible opportunity of leading a delightful life
presented itself.

“Yes, I’ve a great mind to give you the chance. You see,” and now it
was Mr. Lord’s turn to grow confidential, “I’ve had a boy with me
this season, but he cleared out at the last town, and I’m running the
business alone now.”

Toby’s face expressed all the contempt he felt for the boy who would run
away from such a glorious life as Mr. Lord’s assistant must lead; but he
said not a word, waiting in breathless expectation for the offer which
he now felt certain would be made him.

“Now I ain’t hard on a boy,” continued Mr. Lord, still confidentially,
“and yet that one seemed to think that he was treated worse and made to
work harder than any boy in the world.”

“He ought to live with Uncle Dan’l a week,” said Toby, eagerly.

“Here I was just like a father to him,” said Mr. Lord, paying no
attention to the interruption, “and I gave him his board and lodging,
and a dollar a week besides.”

“Could he do what he wanted to with the dollar?”

“Of course he could. I never checked him, no matter how extravagant he
was, an’ yet I’ve seen him spend his whole week’s wages at this very
stand in one afternoon. And even after his money had all gone that way,
I’ve paid for peppermint and ginger out of my own pocket just to cure
his stomach ache.”

Toby shook his head mournfully, as if deploring that depravity which
could cause a boy to run away from such a tender hearted employer and
from such a desirable position. But even as he shook his head so sadly
he looked wistfully at the peanuts, and Mr. Lord observed the look.

It may have been that Mr. Job Lord was the tender hearted man he prided
himself upon being, or it may have been that he wished to purchase
Toby’s sympathy; but, at all events, he gave him a large handful of
nuts, and Toby never bothered his little round head as to what motive
prompted the gift. Now he could listen to the story of the boy’s
treachery and eat at the same time; therefore he was an attentive
listener.

“All in the world that boy had to do,” continued Mr. Lord, in the same
injured tone he had previously used, “was to help me set things to
rights when we struck a town in the morning, and then tend to the
counter till we left the town at night, and all the rest of the time he
had to himself. Yet that boy was ungrateful enough to run away.”

Mr. Lord paused, as if expecting some expression of sympathy from his
listener; but Toby was so busily engaged with his unexpected feast, and
his mouth was so full, that it did not seem even possible for him to
shake his head.

“Now what should you say if I told you that you looked to me like a boy
that was made especially to help run a candy counter at a circus, and if
I offered the place to you?”

Toby made one frantic effort to swallow the very large mouthful, and in
a choking voice he answered, quickly, “I should say I’d go with you, an’
be mighty glad of the chance.”

“Then it’s a bargain, my boy, and you shall leave town with me tonight.”



II. TOBY RUNS AWAY FROM HOME


Toby could scarcely restrain himself at the prospect of this golden
future that had so suddenly opened before him. He tried to express his
gratitude, but could only do so by evincing his willingness to commence
work at once.

“No, no, that won’t do,” said Mr. Lord, cautiously. “If your uncle
Daniel should see you working here, he might mistrust something, and
then you couldn’t get away.”

“I don’t believe he’d try to stop me,” said Toby, confidently; “for he’s
told me lots of times that it was a sorry day for him when he found me.”

“We won’t take any chances, my son,” was the reply, in a very benevolent
tone, as he patted Toby on the head and at the same time handed him
a piece of pasteboard. “There’s a ticket for the circus, and you come
around to see me about ten o’clock tonight. I’ll put you on one of the
wagons, and by’ tomorrow morning your uncle Daniel will have hard work
to find you.”

If Toby had followed his inclinations, the chances are that he would
have fallen on his knees and kissed Mr. Lord’s hands in the excess of
his gratitude. But not knowing exactly how such a show of thankfulness
might be received, he contented himself by repeatedly promising that he
would be punctual to the time and place appointed.

He would have loitered in the vicinity of the candy stand in order that
he might gain some insight into the business; but Mr. Lord advised him
to remain away, lest his uncle Daniel would see him, and suspect where
he had gone when he was missed in the morning.

As Toby walked around the circus grounds, whereon was so much to attract
his attention, he could not prevent himself from assuming an air of
proprietorship. His interest in all that was going on was redoubled,
and in his anxiety that everything should be done correctly and in the
proper order he actually, and perhaps for the first time in his life,
forgot that he was hungry. He was really to travel with a circus, to
become a part, as it were, of the whole, and to be able to see its many
wonderful and beautiful attractions every day.

Even the very tent ropes had acquired a new interest for him, and
the faces of the men at work seemed suddenly to have become those of
friends. How hard it was for him to walk around unconcernedly: and how
especially hard to prevent his feet from straying toward that tempting
display of dainties which he was to sell to those who came to see and
enjoy, and who would look at him with wonder and curiosity! It was very
hard not to be allowed to tell his playmates of his wonderfully good
fortune; but silence meant success, and he locked his secret in his
bosom, not even daring to talk with anyone he knew, lest he should
betray himself by some incautious word.

He did not go home to dinner that day, and once or twice he felt
impelled to walk past the candy stand, giving a mysterious shake of the
head at the proprietor as he did so. The afternoon performance passed
off as usual to all of the spectators save Toby. He imagined that each
one of the performers knew that he was about to join them; and even
as he passed the cage containing the monkeys he fancied that one
particularly old one knew all about his intention of running away.

Of course it was necessary for him to go home at the close of the
afternoon’s performance, in order to get one or two valuable articles of
his own--such as a boat, a kite, and a pair of skates--and in order
that his actions might not seem suspicious. Before he left the grounds,
however, he stole slyly around to the candy stand, and informed Mr. Job
Lord, in a very hoarse whisper, that he would be on hand at the time
appointed.

Mr. Lord patted him on the head, gave him two large sticks of candy,
and, what was more kind and surprising, considering the fact that he
wore glasses and was cross eyed, he winked at Toby. A wink from Mr. Lord
must have been intended to convey a great deal, because, owing to the
defect in his eyes, it required no little exertion, and even then could
not be considered as a really first class wink.

That wink, distorted as it was, gladdened Toby’s heart immensely and
took away nearly all the sting of the scolding with which Uncle Daniel
greeted him when he reached home.

That night--despite the fact that he was going to travel with the
circus, despite the fact that his home was not a happy or cheerful
one--Toby was not in a pleasant frame of mind. He began to feel for the
first time that he was doing wrong; and as he gazed at Uncle Daniel’s
stern, forbidding looking face, it seemed to have changed somewhat from
its severity, and caused a great lump of something to come up in his
throat as he thought that perhaps he should never see it again. Just
then one or two kind words would have prevented him from running away,
bright as the prospect of circus life appeared.

It was almost impossible for him to eat anything, and this very
surprising state of affairs attracted the attention of Uncle Daniel.

“Bless my heart! what ails the boy?” asked the old man, as he peered
over his glasses at Toby’s well filled plate, which was usually emptied
so quickly. “Are ye sick, Toby, or what is the matter with ye?”

“No, I hain’t sick,” said Toby, with a sigh; “but I’ve been to the
circus, an’ I got a good deal to eat.”

“Oho! You spent that cent I give ye, eh, an’ got so much that it made ye
sick?”

Toby thought of the six peanuts which he had bought with the penny Uncle
Daniel had given him; and, amid all his homesickness, he could not help
wondering if Uncle Daniel ever made himself sick with only six peanuts
when he was a boy.

As no one paid any further attention to Toby, he pushed back his plate,
arose from the table, and went with a heavy heart to attend to his
regular evening chores. The cow, the hens, and even the pigs came in for
a share of his unusually kind attention; and as he fed them all the
big tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought that perhaps never
again would he see any of them. These dumb animals had all been Toby’s
confidants; he had poured out his griefs in their ears, and fancied,
when the world or Uncle Daniel had used him unusually hard, that they
sympathized with him. Now he was leaving them forever, and as he locked
the stable door he could hear the sounds of music coming from the
direction of the circus grounds, and he was angry at it, because it
represented that which was taking him away from his home, even though it
was not as pleasant as it might have been.

Still, he had no thought of breaking the engagement which he had made.
He went to his room, made a bundle of his worldly possessions, and crept
out of the back door, down the road to the circus.

Mr. Lord saw him as soon as he arrived on the grounds, and as he passed
another ticket to Toby he took his bundle from him, saying, as he did
so: “I’ll pack up your bundle with my things, and then you’ll be sure
not to lose it. Don’t you want some candy?”

Toby shook his head; he had just discovered that there was possibly some
connection between his heart and his stomach, for his grief at leaving
home had taken from him all desire for good things. It is also more than
possible that Mr. Lord had had experience enough with boys to know that
they might be homesick on the eve of starting to travel with a circus;
and in order to make sure that Toby would keep to his engagement he was
unusually kind.

That evening was the longest Toby ever knew. He wandered from one cage
of animals to another; then to see the performance in the ring, and back
again to the animals, in the vain hope of passing the time pleasantly.

But it was of no use; that lump in his throat would remain there, and
the thoughts of what he was about to do would trouble him severely.
The performance failed to interest him, and the animals did not attract
until he had visited the monkey cage for the third or fourth time. Then
he fancied that the same venerable monkey who had looked so knowing in
the afternoon was gazing at him with a sadness which could only have
come from a thorough knowledge of all the grief and doubt that was in
his heart.

There was no one around the cages, and Toby got just as near to the iron
bars as possible. No sooner had he flattened his little pug nose against
the iron than the aged monkey came down from the ring in which he had
been swinging, and, seating himself directly in front of Toby’s face,
looked at him most compassionately.

It would not have surprised the boy just then if the animal had spoken;
but as he did not, Toby did the next best thing and spoke to him.

“I s’pose you remember that you saw me this afternoon, an’ somebody told
you that I was goin’ to join the circus, didn’t they?”

The monkey made no reply, though Toby fancied that he winked an
affirmative answer; and he looked so sympathetic that he continued,
confidentially:

“Well, I’m the same feller, an’ I don’t mind telling you that I’m
awfully sorry that I promised that candy man I’d go with him. Do you
know that I came near crying at the supper table tonight; an’ Uncle
Dan’l looked real good an’ nice, though I never thought so before. I
wish I wasn’t goin’, after all, ‘cause it don’t seem a bit like a good
time now; but I s’pose I must, ‘cause I promised to, an’ ‘cause the
candy man has got all my things.”

The big tears had begun to roll down Toby’s cheeks, and as he ceased
speaking the monkey reached out one little paw, which Toby took as
earnestly as if it had been done purposely to console him.

“You’re real good, you are,” continued Toby; “an’ I hope I shall see you
real often, for it seems to me now, when there hain’t any folks around,
as if you was the only friend I’ve got in this great big world. It’s
awful when a feller feels the way I do, an’ when he don’t seem to want
anything to eat. Now if you’ll stick to me I’ll stick to you, an’ then
it won’t be half so bad when we feel this way.”

During this speech Toby had still clung to the little brown paw, which
the monkey now withdrew, and continued to gaze into the boy’s face.

“The fellers all say I don’t amount to anything,” sobbed Toby, “an’
Uncle Dan’l says I don’t, an’ I s’pose they know; but I tell you I feel
just as bad, now that I’m goin’ away from them all, as if I was as good
as any of them.”

At this moment Toby saw Mr. Lord enter the tent, and he knew that the
summons to start was about to be given.

“Goodby,” he said to the monkey, as he vainly tried to take him by the
hand again. “Remember what I’ve told you, an’ don’t forget that Toby
Tyler is feelin’ worse tonight than if he was twice as big an’ twice as
good.”

Mr. Lord had come to summon him away, and he now told Toby that he would
show him with which man he was to ride that night.

Toby looked another goodby at the venerable monkey, who was watching him
closely, and then followed his employer out of the tent, among the ropes
and poles and general confusion attendant upon the removal of a circus
from one place to another.



III. THE NIGHT RIDE


The wagon on which Mr. Lord was to send his new found employee was,
by the most singular chance, the one containing the monkeys, and Toby
accepted this as a good omen. He would be near his venerable friend all
night, and there was some consolation in that. The driver instructed
the boy to watch his movements, and when he saw him leading his horses
around, “to look lively and be on hand, for he never waited for anyone.”

Toby not only promised to do as ordered, but he followed the driver
around so closely that, had he desired, he could not have rid himself of
his little companion.

The scene which presented itself to Toby’s view was strange and weird in
the extreme. Shortly after he had attached himself to the man with whom
he was to ride, the performance was over, and the work of putting the
show and its belongings into such a shape as could be conveyed from one
town to another was soon in active operation. Toby forgot his grief,
forgot that he was running away from the only home he had ever known--in
fact, forgot everything concerning himself--so interested was he in that
which was going on about him.

As soon as the audience had got out of the tent and almost before the
work of taking down the canvas was begun.

Torches were stuck in the earth at regular intervals, the lights that
had shone so brilliantly in and around the ring had been extinguished,
the canvas sides had been taken off, and the boards that had formed the
seats were being packed into one of the carts with a rattling sound that
seemed as if a regular fusillade of musketry was being indulged in. Men
were shouting; horses were being driven hither and thither, harnessed to
the wagons, or drawing the huge carts away as soon as they were loaded;
and everything seemed in the greatest state of confusion, while really
the work was being done in the most systematic manner possible.

Toby had not long to wait before the driver informed him that the time
for starting had arrived, and assisted him to climb up to the narrow
seat whereon he was to ride that night.

The scene was so exciting, and his efforts to stick to the narrow seat
so great, that he really had no time to attend to the homesick feeling
that had crept over him during the first part of the evening.

The long procession of carts and wagons drove slowly out of the town,
and when the last familiar house had been passed the driver spoke to
Toby for the first time, since they started.

“Pretty hard work to keep on--eh, sonny?”

“Yes,” replied the boy, as the wagon jolted over a rock, bouncing him
high in air, and he, by strenuous efforts, barely succeeded in alighting
on the seat again, “it is pretty hard work; an’ my name’s Toby Tyler.”

Toby heard a queer sound that seemed to come from the man’s throat, and
for a few moments he feared that his companion was choking. But he soon
understood that this was simply an attempt to laugh, and he at once
decided that it was a very poor style of laughing.

“So you object to being called sonny, do you?”

“Well, I’d rather be called Toby, for, you see, that’s my name.”

“All right, my boy; we’ll call you Toby. I suppose you thought it was a
mighty fine thing to run away an’ jine a circus, didn’t you?”

Toby started in affright, looked around cautiously, and then tried to
peer down through the small square aperture, guarded by iron rods, that
opened into the cage just back of the seat they were sitting on. Then
he turned slowly around to the driver, and asked, in a voice sunk to a
whisper: “How did you know that I was runnin’ away? Did he tell you?”
 and Toby motioned with his thumb as if he were pointing out someone
behind him.

It was the driver’s turn now to look around in search of the “he”
 referred to by Toby.

“Who do you mean?” asked the man, impatiently.

“Why, the old feller; the one in the cart there. I think he knew I was
runnin’ away, though he didn’t say anything about it; but he looked just
as if he did.”

The driver looked at Toby in perfect amazement for a moment, and
then, as if suddenly understanding the boy, relapsed into one of those
convulsive efforts that caused the blood to rush up into his face and
gave him every appearance of having a fit.

“You must mean one of the monkeys,” said the driver, after he had
recovered his breath, which had been almost shaken out of his body by
the silent laughter. “So you thought a monkey had told me what any fool
could have seen if he had watched you for five minutes.”

“Well,” said Toby, slowly, as if he feared he might provoke one of those
terrible laughing spells again, “I saw him tonight, an’ he looked as if
he knew what I was doin’; so I up an’ told him, an’ I didn’t know but
he’d told you, though he didn’t look to me like a feller that would be
mean.”

There was another internal shaking on the part of the driver, which Toby
did not fear so much, since he was getting accustomed to it, and then
the man said, “Well, you are the queerest little cove I ever saw.”

“I s’pose I am,” was the reply, accompanied by a long drawn sigh. “I
don’t seem to amount to so much as the other fellers do, an’ I guess
it’s because I’m always hungry; you see, I eat awful, Uncle Dan’l says.”

The only reply which the driver made to this plaintive confession was to
put his hand down into the deepest recesses of one of his deep pockets
and to draw therefrom a huge doughnut, which he handed to his companion.

Toby was so much at his ease by this time that the appetite which had
failed him at supper had now returned in full force, and he devoured the
doughnut in a most ravenous manner.

“You’re too small to eat so fast,” said the man, in a warning tone, as
the last morsel of the greasy sweetness disappeared, and he fished up
another for the boy. “Some time you’ll get hold of one of the India
rubber doughnuts that they feed to circus people, an’ choke yourself to
death.”

Toby shook his head, and devoured this second cake as quickly as he had
the first, craning his neck, and uttering a funny little squeak as the
last bit went down, just as a chicken does when he gets too large a
mouthful of dough.

“I’ll never choke,” he said, confidently. “I’m used to it; and Uncle
Dan’l says I could eat a pair of boots an’ never wink at ‘em; but I
don’t just believe that.”

As the driver made no reply to this remark Toby watched with no little
interest all that was passing on around him. Each of the wagons had a
lantern fastened to the hind axle, and these lights could be seen far
ahead on the road, as if a party of fireflies had started in single file
on an excursion. The trees by the side of the road stood out weird and
ghostly looking in the darkness, and the rumble of the carts ahead
and behind formed a musical accompaniment to the picture that sounded
strangely doleful.

Mile after mile was passed over in perfect silence, save now and then
when the driver would whistle a few bars of some very dismal tune that
would fairly make Toby shiver with its mournfulness. Eighteen miles was
the distance from Guilford to the town where the next performance of the
circus was to be given, and as Toby thought of the ride before them it
seemed as if the time would be almost interminable. He curled himself up
on one corner of the seat, and tried very hard to go to sleep; but just
as his eyes began to grow heavy the wagon would jolt over some rock or
sink deep in some rut, till Toby, the breath very nearly shaken out
of his body, and his neck almost dislocated, would sit bolt upright,
clinging to the seat with both hands, as if he expected each moment to
be pitched out into the mud.

The driver watched him closely, and each time that he saw him shaken
up and awakened so thoroughly he would indulge in one of his silent
laughing spells, until Toby would wonder whether he would ever recover
from it. Several times had Toby been awakened, and each time he had seen
the amusement his sufferings caused, until he finally resolved to put an
end to the sport by keeping awake.

“What is your name?” he asked of the driver, thinking a conversation
would be the best way to rouse himself into wakefulness.

“Waal,” said the driver, as he gathered the reins carefully in one hand,
and seemed to be debating in his mind how he should answer the question,
“I don’t know as I know myself, it’s been so long since I’ve heard it.”

Toby was wide enough awake now, as this rather singular problem was
forced upon his mind. He revolved the matter silently for some moments,
and at last he asked, “What do folks call you when they want to speak to
you?”

“They always call me Old Ben, an’ I’ve got so used to the name that I
don’t need any other.”

Toby wanted very much to ask more questions, but he wisely concluded
that it would not be agreeable to his companion.

“I’ll ask the old man about it,” said Toby to himself, referring to the
aged monkey, whom he seemed to feel acquainted with; “he most likely
knows, if he’ll say anything.”

After this the conversation ceased, until Toby again ventured to
suggest, “It’s a pretty long drive, hain’t it?”

“You want to wait till you’ve been in this business a year or two,” said
Ben, sagely, “an’ then you won’t think much of it. Why, I’ve known the
show towns to be thirty miles apart, an’ them was the times when we had
lively work of it. Riding all night and working all day kind of wears on
a fellow.”

“Yes, I s’pose so,” said Toby, with a sigh, as he wondered whether he
had got to work as hard as that; “but I s’pose you get all you want to
eat, don’t you?”

“Now you’ve struck it!” said Ben, with the air of one about to impart a
world of wisdom, as he crossed one leg over the other, that his position
might be as comfortable as possible while he was initiating his young
companion into the mysteries of the life. “I’ve had all the boys ride
with me since I’ve been with this show, an’ I’ve tried to start them
right; but they didn’t seem to profit by it, an’ always got sick of the
show an’ run away, just because they didn’t look out for themselves as
they ought to. Now listen to me, Toby, an’ remember what I say. You see
they put us all in a hotel together, an’ some of these places where we
go don’t have any too much stuff on the table. Whenever we strike a new
town you find out at the hotel what time they have the grub ready, an’
you be on hand, so’s to get in with the first. Eat all you can, an’ fill
your pockets.”

“If that’s all a feller has to do to travel with a circus,” said Toby,
“I’m just the one, ‘cause I always used to do just that when I hadn’t
any idea of bein’ a circus man.”

“Then you’ll get along all right,” said Ben, as he checked the speed of
his horses and, looking carefully ahead, said, as he guided his team to
one side of the road, “This is as far as we’re going tonight.”

Toby learned that they were within a couple of miles of the town, and
that the entire procession would remain by the roadside until time to
make the grand entree into the village, when every wagon, horse, and man
would be decked out in the most gorgeous array, as they had been when
they entered Guilford.

Under Ben’s direction he wrapped himself in an old horse blanket,
and lay down on the top of the wagon; and he was so tired from the
excitement of the day and night that he had hardly stretched out at full
length before he was fast asleep.



IV. THE FIRST DAY WITH THE CIRCUS


When Toby awakened and looked around he could hardly realize where he
was or bow he came there. As far ahead and behind on the road as he
could see the carts were drawn up on one side; men were hurrying to and
fro, orders were being shouted, and everything showed that the entry
into the town was about to be made. Directly opposite the wagon on which
he had been sleeping were the four elephants and two camels, and close
behind, contentedly munching their breakfasts, were a number of tiny
ponies. Troops of horses were being groomed and attended to; the road
was littered with saddles, flags, and general decorations, until it
seemed to Toby that there must have been a smash up, and that he now
beheld ruins rather than systematic disorder.

How different everything looked now, compared to the time when the
cavalcade marched into Guilford, dazzling everyone with the gorgeous
display! Then the horses pranced gayly under their gaudy decorations,
the wagons were bright with glass, gilt, and flags, the lumbering
elephants and awkward camels were covered with fancifully embroidered
velvets, and even the drivers of the wagons were resplendent in their
uniforms of scarlet and gold. Now, in the gray light of the early
morning, everything was changed. The horses were tired and muddy, and
wore old and dirty harness; the gilded chariots were covered with mud
bespattered canvas, which caused them to look like the most ordinary
of market wagons; the elephants and camels looked dingy, dirty, almost
repulsive; and the drivers were only a sleepy looking set of men, who,
in their shirt sleeves, were getting ready for the change which would
dazzle the eyes of the inhabitants of the town.

Toby descended from his lofty bed, rubbed his eyes to thoroughly awaken
himself, and, under the guidance of Ben, went to a little brook near by
and washed his face. He had been with the circus not quite ten hours,
but now he could not realize that it had ever seemed bright and
beautiful. He missed his comfortable bed, the quiet and cleanliness, and
the well spread table; even although he had felt the lack of parents’
care, Uncle Daniel’s home seemed the very abode of love and friendly
feeling compared with this condition, where no one appeared to care even
enough for him to scold at him. He was thoroughly homesick, and heartily
wished that he was back in his old native town.

While he was washing his face in the brook he saw some of the boys who
had come out from the town to catch the first glimpse of the circus, and
he saw at once that he was the object of their admiring gaze. He heard
one of the boys say, when they first discovered him:

“There’s one of them, an’ he’s only a little feller; so I’m going to
talk to him.”

The evident admiration which the boys had for Toby pleased him, and this
pleasure was the only drop of comfort he had had since he started. He
hoped they would come and talk with him; and, that they might have the
opportunity, he was purposely slow in making his toilet.

The boys approached him shyly, as if they had their doubts whether he
was made of the same material as themselves, and when they got quite
near to him and satisfied themselves that he was only washing his face
in much the same way that any well regulated boy would do, the one who
had called attention to him said, half timidly, “Hello!”

“Hello!” responded Toby, in a tone that was meant to invite confidence.

“Do you belong to the circus?”

“Yes,” said Toby, a little doubtfully.

Then the boys stared at him again as if he were one of the strange
looking animals, and the one who had been the spokesman drew a long
breath of envy as he said, longingly, “My! what a nice time you must
have!”

Toby remembered that only yesterday he himself had thought that boys
must have a nice time with a circus, and he now felt what a mistake
that thought was; but he concluded that he would not undeceive his new
acquaintance.

“And do they give you frogs to eat, so’s to make you limber?”

This was the first time that Toby had thought of breakfast, and the very
mention of eating made him hungry. He was just at that moment so very
hungry that he did not think he was replying to the question when he
said, quickly: “Eat frogs! I could eat anything, if I only had the
chance.”

The boys took this as an answer to their question, and felt perfectly
convinced that the agility of circus riders and tumblers depended upon
the quantity of frogs eaten, and they looked upon Toby with no little
degree of awe.

Toby might have undeceived them as to the kind of food he ate, but just
at that moment the harsh voice of Mr. Job Lord was heard calling him,
and he hurried away to commence his first day’s work.

Toby’s employer was not the same pleasant, kindly spoken man that he
had been during the time they were in Guilford and before the boy was
absolutely under his control. He looked cross, he acted cross, and it
did not take the boy very long to find out that he was very cross.

He scolded Toby roundly, and launched more oaths at his defenseless head
than Toby had ever heard in his life. He was angry that the boy had not
been on hand to help him, and also that he had been obliged to hunt for
him.

Toby tried to explain that he had no idea of what he was expected to
do, and that he had been on the wagon to which he had been sent, only
leaving it to wash his face; but the angry man grew still more furious.

“Went to wash your face, did yer? Want to set yourself up for a dandy, I
suppose, and think that you must souse that speckled face of yours into
every brook you come to? I’ll soon break you of that; and the sooner you
understand that I can’t afford to have you wasting your time in washing
the better it will be for you.”

Toby now grew angry, and, not realizing how wholly he was in the man’s
power, he retorted: “If you think I’m going round with a dirty face,
even if it is speckled, for a dollar a week, you’re mistaken, that’s
all. How many folks would eat your candy if they knew you handled it
over before you washed your hands?”

“Oho! I’ve picked up a preacher, have I? Now I want you to understand,
my bantam, that I do all the preaching as well as the practicing myself,
and this is about as quick a way as I know of to make you understand
it.”

As the man spoke he grasped the boy by the coat collar with one hand and
with the other plied a thin rubber cane with no gentle force to every
portion of Toby’s body that he could reach.

Every blow caused the poor boy the most intense pain; but he determined
that his tormentor should not have the satisfaction of forcing an outcry
from him, and he closed his lips so tightly that not a single sound
could escape from them.

This very silence enraged the man so much that he redoubled the force
and rapidity of his blows, and it is impossible to say what might have
been the consequences had not Ben come that way just then and changed
the aspect of affairs.

“Up to your old tricks of whipping the boys, are you, Job?” he said,
as he wrested the cane from the man’s hand and held him off at arm’s
length, to prevent him from doing Toby more mischief.

Mr. Lord struggled to release himself, and insisted that, since the boy
was in his employ, he should do with him just as he saw fit.

“Now look here, Mr. Lord,” said Ben, as gravely as if he was delivering
some profound piece of wisdom, “I’ve never interfered with you before;
but now I’m going to stop your game of thrashing your boy every morning
before breakfast. You just tell this youngster what you want him to do,
and if he don’t do it you can discharge him. If I hear of your flogging
him, I shall attend to your case at once. You hear me?”

Ben shook the now terrified candy vender much as if he had been a child,
and then released him, saying to Toby as he did so, “Now, my boy, you
attend to your business as you ought to, and I’ll settle his accounts if
he tries the flogging game again.”

“You see, I don’t know what there is for me to do,” sobbed Toby, for
the kindly interference of Ben had made him show more feeling than Mr.
Lord’s blows had done.

“Tell him what he must do,” said Ben, sternly.

“I want him to go to work and wash the tumblers, and fix up the things
in that green box, so we can commence to sell as soon as we get into
town,” snarled Mr. Lord, as he motioned toward a large green chest that
had been taken out of one of the carts, and which Toby saw was filled
with dirty glasses, spoons, knives, and other utensils such as were
necessary to carry on the business.

Toby got a pail of water from the brook, hunted around and found towels
and soap, and devoted himself to his work with such industry that Mr.
Lord could not repress a grunt of satisfaction as he passed him, however
angry he felt because he could not administer the whipping which would
have smoothed his ruffled temper.

By the time the procession was ready to start for the town Toby had as
much of his work done as he could find that it was necessary to do, and
his master, in his surly way, half acknowledged that this last boy of
his was better than any he had had before.

Although Toby had done his work so well he was far from feeling happy;
he was both angry and sad as he thought of the cruel blows that had been
inflicted, and he had plenty of leisure to repent of the rash step he
had taken, although he could not see very clearly how he was to get away
from it. He thought that he could not go back to Guilford, for Uncle
Daniel would not allow him to come to his house again; and the hot
scalding tears ran down his cheeks as he realized that he was homeless
and friendless in this great big world.

It was while he was in this frame of mind that the procession, all gaudy
with flags, streamers, and banners, entered the town. Under different
circumstances this would have been a most delightful day for him, for
the entrance of a circus into Guilford had always been a source of one
day’s solid enjoyment; but now he was the most disconsolate and unhappy
boy in all that crowd.

He did not ride throughout the entire route of the procession, for Mr.
Lord was anxious to begin business, and the moment the tenting ground
was reached the wagon containing Mr. Lord’s goods was driven into the
inclosure and Toby’s day’s work began.

He was obliged to bring water, to cut up the lemons, fetch and carry
fruit from the booth in the big tent to the booth on the outside,
until he was ready to drop with fatigue, and, having had no time for
breakfast, was nearly famished.

It was quite noon before he was permitted to go to the hotel for
something to eat, and then Ben’s advice to be one of the first to get to
the tables was not needed.

In the eating line that day he astonished the servants, the members of
the company, and even himself, and by the time he arose from the table,
with both pockets and his stomach full to bursting, the tables had been
set and cleared away twice while he was making one meal.

“Well, I guess you didn’t hurry yourself much,” said Mr. Lord, when Toby
returned to the circus ground.

“Oh yes, I did,” was Toby’s innocent reply: “I ate just as fast as I
could”; and a satisfied smile stole over the boy’s face as he thought of
the amount of solid food he had consumed.

The answer was not one which was calculated to make Mr. Lord feel any
more agreeably disposed toward his new clerk, and he showed his ill
temper very plainly as he said, “It must take a good deal to satisfy
you.”

“I s’pose it does,” calmly replied Toby. “Sam Merrill used to say that
I took after Aunt Olive and Uncle Dan’l; one ate a good while, an’ the
other ate awful fast.”

Toby could not understand what it was that Mr. Lord said in reply,
but he could understand that his employer was angry at somebody or
something, and he tried unusually hard to please him. He talked to the
boys who had gathered around, to induce them to buy, washed the glasses
as fast as they were used, tried to keep off the flies, and in every way
he could think of endeavored to please his master.



V. THE COUNTERFEIT TEN CENT PIECE


When the doors of the big tent were opened, and the people began to
crowd in, just as Toby had seen them do at Guilford, Mr. Lord announced
to his young clerk that it was time for him to go into the tent to work.
Then it was that Toby learned for the first time that he had two masters
instead of one, and this knowledge caused him no little uneasiness. If
the other one was anything like Mr. Lord, his lot would be just twice
as bad, and he began to wonder whether he could even stand it one day
longer.

As the boy passed through the tent on his way to the candy stand, where
he was really to enter upon the duties for which he had run away from
home, he wanted to stop for a moment and speak with the old monkey who
he thought had taken such an interest in him. But when he reached the
cage in which his friend was confined, there was such a crowd around it
that it was impossible for him to get near enough to speak without being
overheard.

This was such a disappointment to the little fellow that the big tears
came into his eyes, and in another instant would have gone rolling down
his cheeks if his aged friend had not chanced to look toward him. Toby
fancied that the monkey looked at him in the most friendly way, and
then he was Certain that he winked one eye. Toby felt that there was no
mistake about that wink, and it seemed as if it was intended to convey
comfort to him in his troubles. He winked back at the monkey in the most
emphatic and grave manner possible, and then went on his way, feeling
wonderfully comforted.

The work inside the tent was far different and much harder than it was
outside. He was obliged to carry around among the audience trays of
candy, nuts, and lemonade for sale, and he was expected to cry aloud the
description of that which he offered. The partner of Mr. Lord, who had
charge of the stand inside the tent, showed himself to be neither better
nor worse than Mr. Lord himself. When Toby first presented himself for
work he handed him a tray filled with glasses of lemonade, and told him
to go among the audience, crying, “Here’s your nice cold lemonade, only
five cents a glass!”

Toby started to do as he was bidden; but when he tried to repeat the
words in anything like a loud tone of voice they stuck in his throat,
and he found it next to impossible to utter a sound above a whisper. It
seemed to him that everyone in the audience was looking only at him, and
the very sound of his own voice made him afraid.

He went entirely around the tent once without making a sale, and when he
returned to the stand he was at once convinced that one of his masters
was quite as bad as the other. This one--and he knew that his name was
Jacobs, for he heard someone call him so--very kindly told him that he
would break every bone in his body if he didn’t sell something, and Toby
confidently believed that he would carry out his threat.

It was with a very heavy heart that he started around again in obedience
to Mr. Jacobs’s angry command; but this time he did manage to cry out,
in a very thin and very squeaky voice, the words which he had been told
to repeat.

This time--perhaps owing to his pitiful and imploring look, certainly
not because of the noise he made--he met with very good luck, and
sold every glass of the mixture which Messrs. Lord and Jacobs called
lemonade, and went back to the stand for more.

He certainly thought he had earned a word of praise, and fully expected
it as he put the empty glasses and money on the stand in front of Mr.
Jacobs. But, instead of the kind words, he was greeted with a volley of
curses; and the reason for it was that he had taken in payment for two
of the glasses a lead ten cent piece. Mr. Jacobs, after scolding poor
little Toby to his heart’s content, vowed that the amount should be kept
from his first week’s wages, and then handed back the coin, with orders
to give it to the first man who gave him money to change, under the
penalty of a severe flogging if he failed to do so.

Poor Toby tried to explain matters by saying: “You see, I don’t know
anything about money; I never had more ‘n a cent at a time, an’ you
mustn’t expect me to get posted all at once.”

“I’ll post you with a stick if you do it again; an’ it won’t be well for
you if you bring that ten cent piece back here!”

Now Toby was very well aware that to pass the coin, knowing it to be
bad, would be a crime, and be resolved to take the consequences of which
Mr. Jacobs had intimated, if he could not find the one who had given him
the counterfeit and persuade him to give him good money in its stead. He
remembered very plainly where he had sold each glass of lemonade, and
he retraced his steps, glancing at each face carefully as he passed. At
last he was confident that he saw the man who had gotten him into such
trouble, and he climbed up the board seats, saying, as he stood in front
of him and held out the coin: “Mister, this money that you gave me is
bad. Won’t you give me another one for it?”

The man was a rough looking party who had taken his girl to the circus,
and who did not seem at all disposed to pay any heed to Toby’s request.
Therefore he repeated it, and this time more loudly.

“Get out the way!” said the man, angrily. “How can you expect me to see
the show if you stand right in front of me?”

“You’ll like it better,” said Toby, earnestly, “if you give me another
ten cent piece.”

“Get out an’ don’t bother me!” was the angry rejoinder; and the little
fellow began to think that perhaps he would be obliged to “get out”
 without getting his money.

It was becoming a desperate case, for the man was growing angry very
fast and if Toby did not succeed in getting good money for the bad, he
would have to take the consequences of which Mr. Jacobs had spoken.

“Please, mister,” he said, imploringly--for his heart began to grow very
heavy, and he was fearing that he should not succeed--“won’t you please
give me the money back? You know you gave it to me, an’ I’ll have to pay
it if you don’t.”

The boy’s lip was quivering, and those around began to be interested in
the affair, while several in the immediate vicinity gave vent to their
indignation that a man should try to cheat a boy out of ten cents by
giving him counterfeit money.

The man whom Toby was speaking to was about to dismiss him with an angry
reply, when he saw that those about him were not only interested in the
matter, but were evidently taking sides with the boy against him; and
knowing well that he had given the counterfeit money, he took another
coin from his pocket and, handing it to Toby, said, “I didn’t give you
the lead piece; but you’re making such a fuss about it that here’s ten
cents to make you keep quiet.”

“I’m sure you did give me the money,” said Toby, as he took the extended
coin, “an’ I’m much obliged to you for takin’ it back. I didn’t want to
tell you before, ‘cause you’d thought I was beggin’; but if you hadn’t
given me this, I ‘xpect I’d have got an awful whippin’, for Mr. Jacobs
said he’d fix me if I didn’t get the money for it.”

The man looked sheepish enough as he put the bad money in his pocket,
and Toby’s innocently told story caused such a feeling in his behalf
among those who sat near that he not only disposed of his entire stock
then and there, but received from one gentleman twenty-five cents for
himself. He was both proud and happy as he returned to Mr. Jacobs with
empty glasses, and with the money to refund the amount of loss which
would have been caused by the counterfeit.

But the worthy partner of Mr. Lord’s candy business had no words of
encouragement for the boy who was trying so hard to please.

“Let that make you keep your eyes open,” he growled out, sulkily; “an’
if you get caught in that trap again, you won’t be let off so easy.”

Poor little Toby! his heart seemed ready to break; but his few hours’
previous experience had taught him that there was but one thing to do,
and that was to work just as hard as possible, trusting to some good
fortune to enable him to get out of the very disagreeable position in
which he had voluntarily placed himself.

He took the basket of candy that Mr. Jacobs handed him, and trudged
around the circle of seats, selling far more because of the pitifulness
of his face than because of the excellence of his goods; and even this
worked to his disadvantage. Mr. Jacobs was keen enough to see why his
little clerk sold so many goods, and each time that he returned to the
stand he said something to him in an angry tone, which had the effect of
deepening the shadow on the boy’s face and at the same time increasing
trade.

By the time the performance was over Toby had in his pocket a dollar and
twenty-five cents which had been given him for himself by some of the
kind hearted in the audience, and he kept his hand almost constantly
upon it, for the money seemed to him like some kind friend who would
help him out of his present difficulties.

After the audience had dispersed, Mr. Jacobs set Toby at work washing
the glasses and clearing up generally, and then the boy started toward
the other portion of the store--that watched over by Mr. Lord. Not a
person save the watchman was in the tent, and as Toby went toward the
door he saw his friend the monkey sitting in one corner of the cage, and
apparently watching his every movement.

It was as if he had suddenly seen one of the boys from home, and Toby,
uttering an exclamation of delight, ran up to the cage and put his hand
through the wires.

The monkey, in the gravest possible manner, took one of the fingers in
his paw, and Toby shook hands with him very earnestly.

“I was sorry that I couldn’t speak to you when I went in this noon,”
 said Toby, as if making an apology; “but, you see, there were so many
around here to see you that I couldn’t get the chance. Did you see me
wink at you?”

The monkey made no reply, but he twisted his face into such a funny
little grimace that Toby was quite as well satisfied as if he had
spoken.

“I wonder if you hain’t some relation to Steve Stubbs?” Toby continued,
earnestly, “for you look just like him, only he don’t have quite so many
whiskers. What I wanted to say was that I’m awful sorry I run away. I
used to think that Uncle Dan’l was bad enough; but he was just a perfect
good Samarathon to what Mr. Lord an’ Mr. Jacobs are; an’ when Mr. Lord
looks at me with that crooked eye of his I feel it ‘way down in my
boots. Do you know”--and here Toby put his mouth nearer to the monkey’s
head and whispered--“I’d run away from this circus if I could get the
chance. Wouldn’t you?”

Just at this point, as if in answer to the question, the monkey stood up
on his hind feet and reached out his paw to the boy, who seemed to think
this was his way of being more emphatic in saying “Yes.”

Toby took the paw in his hand, shook it again earnestly, and said, as he
released it: “I was pretty sure you felt just about the same way I did,
Mr. Stubbs, when I passed you this noon. Look here”--and Toby took the
money from his pocket which had been given him--“I got all that this
afternoon, an’ I’ll try an’ stick it out somehow till I get as much as
ten dollars, an’ then we’ll run away some night, an’ go ‘way off as far
as--as--as out West; an’ we’ll stay there, too.”

The monkey, probably tired with remaining in one position so long;
started toward the top of the cage, chattering and screaming, joining
the other monkeys, who had gathered in a little group in one of the
swings.

“Now see here, Mr. Stubbs,” said Toby, in alarm, “you mustn’t go to
telling everybody about it, or Mr. Lord will know, an’ then we’ll be
dished, sure.”

The monkey sat quietly in the swing, as if he felt reproved by what the
boy had said; and Toby, considerably relieved by his silence, said,
as he started toward the door, “That’s right--mum’s the word; you keep
quiet, an’ so will I, an’ pretty soon we’ll get away from the whole
crowd.”

All the monkeys chattered; and Toby, believing that everything which
he had said had been understood by the animals, went out of the door to
meet his other taskmaster.



VI. A TENDER HEARTED SKELETON


“Now, then, lazybones,” was Mr. Lord’s warning cry as Toby came out of
the tent, “if you’ve fooled away enough of your time, you can come here
an’ tend shop for me while I go to supper. You crammed yourself this
noon, an’ it ‘ll teach you a good lesson to make you go without anything
to eat tonight; it ‘ll make you move round more lively in future.”

Instead of becoming accustomed to such treatment as he was receiving
from his employers, Toby’s heart grew more tender with each brutal word,
and this last punishment--that of losing his supper--caused the poor
boy more sorrow than blows would. Mr. Lord started for the hotel as
he concluded his cruel speech; and poor little Toby, going behind the
counter, leaned his head upon the rough boards and cried as if his heart
would break.

All the fancied brightness and pleasure of a circus life had vanished,
and in its place was the bitterness of remorse that he had repaid Uncle
Daniel’s kindness by the ingratitude of running away. Toby thought that
if he could only nestle his little red head on the pillows of his little
bed in that rough room at Uncle Daniel’s, he would be the happiest and
best boy, in the future, in all the great wide world.

While he was still sobbing away at a most furious rate he heard a voice
close at his elbow, and, looking up, saw the thinnest man he had
ever seen in all his life. The man had flesh colored tights on, and a
spangled red velvet garment--that was neither pants, because there were
no legs to it, nor a coat, because it did not come above his waist--made
up the remainder of his costume.

Because he was so wonderfully thin, because of the costume which he
wore, and because of a highly colored painting which was hanging in
front of one of the small tents, Toby knew that the Living Skeleton was
before him, and his big brown eyes opened all the wider as he gazed at
him.

“What is the matter, little fellow?” asked the man, in a kindly tone.
“What makes you cry so? Has Job been up to his old tricks again?”

“I don’t know what his old tricks are--” and Toby sobbed, the tears
coming again because of the sympathy which this man’s voice expressed
for him--“but I know that he’s a mean, ugly thing--that’s what I know;
an’ if I could only get back to Uncle Dan’l, there hain’t elephants
enough in all the circuses in the world to pull me away again.”

“Oh, you run away from home, did you?”

“Yes, I did,” sobbed Toby, “an’ there hain’t any boy in any Sunday
School book that ever I read that was half so sorry he’d been bad as
I am. It’s awful; an’ now I can’t have any supper, ‘cause I stopped to
talk with Mr. Stubbs.”

“Is Mr. Stubbs one of your friends?” asked the skeleton, as he seated
himself in Mr. Lord’s own private chair.

“Yes, he is, an’ he’s the only one in this whole circus who ‘pears to
be sorry for me. You’d better not let Mr. Lord see you sittin’ in that
chair or he’ll raise a row.”

“Job won’t raise any row with me,” said the skeleton. “But who is this
Mr. Stubbs? I don’t seem to know anybody by that name.”

“I don’t think that is his name. I only call him so, ‘cause he looks so
much like a feller I know who is named Stubbs.”

This satisfied the skeleton that this Mr. Stubbs must be someone
attached to the show, and he asked:

“Has Job been whipping you?”

“No; Ben, the driver on the wagon where I ride, told him not to do that
again; but he hain’t going to let me have any supper, ‘cause I was so
slow about my work--though I wasn’t slow; I only talked to Mr. Stubbs
when there wasn’t anybody round his cage.”

“Sam! Sam! Sam-u-el!”

This name, which was shouted twice in a quick, loud voice, and the third
time in a slow manner, ending almost in a screech, did not come from
either Toby or the skeleton, but from an enormously large woman, dressed
in a gaudy red and black dress, cut very short, and with low neck and
an apology for sleeves, who had just come out from the tent whereon the
picture of the Living Skeleton hung.

“Samuel,” she screamed again, “come inside this minute, or you’ll
catch your death o’ cold, an’ I shall have you wheezin’ around with the
phthisic all night. Come in, Sam-u-el.”

“That’s her,” said the skeleton to Toby, as he pointed his thumb in the
direction of the fat woman, but paying no attention to the outcry she
was making--“that’s my wife Lilly, an’ she’s the Fat Woman of the show.
She’s always yellin’ after me that way the minute I get out for a little
fresh air, an’ she’s always sayin’ just the same thing. Bless you, I
never have the phthisic, but she does awful; an’ I s’pose ‘cause she’s
so large she can’t feel all over her, an’ thinks it’s me that has it.”

“Is--is all that--is that your wife?” stammered Toby, in astonishment,
as he looked at the enormously fat woman who stood in the tent door, and
then at the wonderfully thin man who sat beside him.

“Yes, that’s her,” said the skeleton. “She weighs pretty nigh four
hundred, though of course the show cards says it’s over six hundred, an’
she earns almost as much money as I do. Of course she can’t get so much,
for skeletons is much scarcer than fat folks; but we make a pretty good
thing travelin’ together.”

“Sam-u-el!” again came the cry from the fat woman, “are you never coming
in?”

“Not yet, my angel,” said the skeleton, placidly, as he crossed one thin
leg over the other and looked calmly at her. “Come here an’ see Job’s
new boy.”

“Your imprudence is wearin’ me away so that I sha’n’t be worth five
dollars a week to any circus,” she said, impatiently, at the same time
coming toward the candy stand quite as rapidly as her very great size
would admit.

“This is my wife Lilly--Mrs. Treat,” said the skeleton, with a proud
wave of his hand, as he rose from his seat and gazed admiringly at her.
“This is my flower--my queen, Mr. -- Mr. --”

“Tyler,” said Toby, supplying the name which the skeleton--or Mr. Treat,
as Toby now learned his name was--did not know; “Tyler is my name--Toby
Tyler.”

“Why, what a little chap you are!” said Mrs. Treat, paying no attention
to the awkward little bend of the head which Toby intended for a bow.
“How small he is, Samuel!”

“Yes,” said the skeleton, reflectively, as he looked Toby over from head
to foot, as if he were mentally trying to calculate exactly how many
inches high he was, “he is small; but he’s got all the world before
him to grow in, an’ if he only eats enough--There, that reminds me. Job
isn’t going to give him any supper, because he didn’t work hard enough.”

“He won’t, won’t he?” exclaimed the large lady, savagely. “Oh, he’s a
precious one, he is! An’ some day I shall just give him a good shakin’
up, that’s what I’ll do. I get all out of patience with that man’s
ugliness.”

“An’ she’ll do just what she says,” said the skeleton to Toby, with an
admiring shake of the head. “That woman hain’t afraid of anybody, an’ I
wouldn’t be a bit surprised if she did give Job a pretty rough time.”

Toby thought, as he looked at her, that she was large enough to give
‘most anyone a pretty rough time, but he did not venture to say so.
While he was looking first at her, and then at her very thin husband,
the skeleton told his wife the little that he had learned regarding the
boy’s history; and when he had concluded she waddled away toward her
tent.

“Great woman that,” said the skeleton, as he saw her disappear within
the tent.

“Yes,” said Toby, “she’s the greatest I ever saw.”

“I mean that she’s got a great head. Now you’ll see about how much she
cares for what Job says.”

“If I was as big as her,” said Toby, with just a shade of envy in his
voice, “I wouldn’t be afraid of anybody.”

“It hain’t so much the size,” said the skeleton, sagely--“it hain’t so
much the size, my boy; for I can scare that woman almost to death when I
feel like it.”

Toby looked for a moment at Mr. Treat’s thin legs and arms, and then he
said, warningly, “I wouldn’t feel like it very often if I was you, Mr.
Treat, ‘cause she might break some of your bones if you didn’t happen to
scare her enough.”

“Don’t fear for me, my boy--don’t fear for me; you’ll see how I manage
her if you stay with the circus long enough. Now I often--”

If Mr. Treat was about to confide a family secret to Toby, it was fated
that he should not hear it then, for Mrs. Treat had just come out of
her tent, carrying in her hands a large tin plate piled high with a
miscellaneous assortment of pie, cake, bread, and meat.

She placed this in front of Toby, and as she did so she handed him two
pictures.

“There, little Toby Tyler,” she said--“there’s something for you to eat,
if Mr. Job Lord and his precious partner Jacobs did say you shouldn’t
have any supper; an’ I’ve brought you a picture of Samuel an’ me.
We sell ‘em for ten cents apiece, but I’m going to give them to you,
because I like the looks of you.”

Toby was quite overcome with the presents, and seemed at a loss how to
thank her for them. He attempted to speak, but could not get the words
out at first; and then he said, as he put the two photographs in the
same pocket with his money: “You’re awful good to me, an’ when I get to
be a man I’ll give you lots of things. I wasn’t so very hungry, if I am
such a big eater, but I did want something.”

“Bless your dear little heart, and you shall have something to eat,”
 said the Fat Woman, as she seized Toby, squeezed him close up to her,
and kissed his freckled face as kindly as if it had been as fair and
white as possible. “You shall eat all you want to; an’ if you get the
stomachache, as Samuel does sometimes when he’s been eatin’ too much,
I’ll give you some catnip tea out of the same dipper that I give
him his. He’s a great eater, Samuel is,” she added, in a burst
of confidence, “an’ it’s a wonder to me what he does with it all
sometimes.”

“Is he?” exclaimed Toby, quickly. “How funny that is! for I’m an awful
eater. Why, Uncle Dan’l used to say that I ate twice as much as I ought
to, an’ it never made me any bigger. I wonder what’s the reason?”

“I declare I don’t know,” said the Fat Woman, thoughtfully, “an’ I’ve
wondered at it time an’ time again. Some folks is made that way, an’
some folks is made different. Now I don’t eat enough to keep a chicken
alive, an’ yet I grow fatter an’ fatter every day--don’t I, Samuel?”

“Indeed you do, my love,” said the skeleton, with a world of pride in
his voice; “but you mustn’t feel bad about it, for every pound you gain
makes you worth just so much more to the show.”

“Oh, I wasn’t worryin’, I was only wonderin’. But we must go, Samuel,
for the poor child won’t eat a bit while we are here. After you’ve eaten
what there is there, bring the plate in to me,” she said to Toby, as
she took her lean husband by the arm and walked him off toward their own
tent.

Toby gazed after them a moment, and then he commenced a vigorous attack
upon the eatables which had been so kindly given him. Of the food which
he had taken from the dinner table he had eaten some while he was in the
tent, and after that he had entirely forgotten that he had any in his
pocket; therefore, at the time that Mrs. Treat had brought him such a
liberal supply he was really very hungry.

He succeeded in eating nearly all the food which had been brought to
him, and the very small quantity which remained he readily found room
for in his pockets. Then he washed the plate nicely; and seeing no one
in sight, he thought he could leave the booth long enough to return the
plate.

He ran with it quickly into the tent occupied by the thin man and
fat woman, and handed it to her, with a profusion of thanks for her
kindness.

“Did you eat it all?” she asked.

“Well,” hesitated Toby, “there was two doughnuts an’ a piece of pie left
over, an’ I put them in my pocket. If you don’t care, I’ll eat them some
time tonight.”

“You shall eat it whenever you want to; an’ any time that you get hungry
again you come right to me.”

“Thank you, marm. I must go now, for I left the store all alone.”

“Run, then; an’ if Job abuses you, just let me know it, an’ I’ll keep
him from cuttin’ up any monkeyshines.”

Toby hardly heard the end of her sentence, so great was his haste to get
back to the booth; and just as he emerged from the tent, on a quick run,
he received a blow on the ear which sent him sprawling in the dust, and
he heard Mr. Job Lord’s angry voice as it said,

“So, just the moment my back is turned you leave the stand to take care
of itself, do you, an’ run around tryin’ to plot some mischief against
me, eh?” And the brute kicked the prostrate boy twice with his heavy
boot.

“Please don’t kick me again!” pleaded Toby. “I wasn’t gone but a minute,
an’ I wasn’t doing anything bad.”

“You’re lying now, an’ you know it, you young cub!” exclaimed the angry
man as he advanced to kick the boy again. “I’ll let you know who you’ve
got to deal with when you get hold of me!”

“And I’ll let you know who you’ve got to deal with when you get hold of
me!” said a woman’s voice; and just as Mr. Lord raised his foot to kick
the boy again the fat woman seized him by the collar, jerked him back
over one of the tent ropes, and left him quite as prostrate as he had
left Toby.

“Now, Job Lord,” said the angry woman, as she towered above the
thoroughly enraged but thoroughly frightened man, “I want you to
understand that you can’t knock and beat this boy while I’m around. I’ve
seen enough of your capers, an’ I’m going to put a stop to them. That
boy wasn’t in this tent more than two minutes, an’ he attends to his
work better than anyone you have ever had; so see that you treat him
decent. Get up,” she said to Toby, who had not dared to rise from the
ground; “and if he offers to strike you again, come to me.”

Toby scrambled to his feet, and ran to the booth in time to attend to
one or two customers who had just come up. He could see from out the
corner of his eye that Mr. Lord had arisen to his feet also, and was
engaged in an angry conversation with Mrs. Treat, the result of which he
very much feared would be another and a worse whipping for him.

But in this he was mistaken, for Mr. Lord, after the conversation
was ended, came toward the booth, and began to attend to his business
without speaking one word to Toby. When Mr. Jacobs returned from his
supper, Mr. Lord took him by the arm and walked him out toward the rear
of the tents; and Tony was very positive that he was to be the subject
of their conversation, which made him not a little uneasy.

It was not until nearly time for the performance to begin that Mr. Lord
returned, and he had nothing to say to Toby save to tell him to go into
the tent and begin his work there. The boy was only too glad to escape
so easily, and he went to his work with as much alacrity as if he were
about entering upon some pleasure.

When he met Mr. Jacobs that gentleman spoke to him very sharply about
being late, and seemed to think it no excuse at all that he had just
been relieved from the outside work by Mr. Lord.



VII. AN ACCIDENT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES


Toby’s experience in the evening was very similar to that of the
afternoon, save that he was so fortunate as not to take any more
bad money in payment for his goods. Mr. Jacobs scolded and swore
alternately, and the boy really surprised him by his way of selling
goods, though he was very careful not to say anything about it, but made
Toby believe that he was doing only about half as much work as he ought
to do. Toby’s private hoard of money was increased that evening, by
presents, ninety cents, and he began to look upon himself as almost a
rich man.

When the performance was nearly over Mr. Jacobs called to him to help
in packing up; and by the time the last spectator had left the tent the
worldly possessions of Messrs. Lord and Jacobs were ready for removal,
and Toby allowed to do as he had a mind to, so long as he was careful to
be on hand when Old Ben was ready to start.

Toby thought that he would have time to pay a visit to his friends the
skeleton and the Fat Woman, and to that end started toward the place
where their tent had been standing; but to his sorrow he found that it
was already being taken down, and he had only time to thank Mrs. Treat
and to press the fleshless hand of her shadowy husband as they entered
their wagon to drive away.

He was disappointed, for he had hoped to be able to speak with his new
made friends a few moments before the weary night’s ride commenced; but,
failing in that, he went hastily back to the monkeys’ cage. Old Ben was
there, getting things ready for a start; but the wooden sides of the
cage had not been put up, and Toby had no difficulty in calling the aged
monkey up to the bars. He held one of the Fat Woman’s doughnuts in his
hand, and said, as he passed it through to the animal:

“I thought perhaps you might be hungry, Mr. Stubbs, and this is some of
what the skeleton’s wife gave me. I hain’t got very much time to talk
with you now; but the first chance I can get away tomorrow, an’ when
there hain’t anybody round, I want to tell you something.”

The monkey had taken the doughnut in his handlike paws, and was tearing
it to pieces, eating small portions of it very rapidly.

“Don’t hurry yourself,” said Toby, warningly, “for Uncle Dan’l always
told me the worst thing a feller could do was to eat fast. If you want
any more, after we start, just put your hand through the little hole up
there near the seat, an’ I’ll give you all you want.”

From the look on his face Toby confidently believed the monkey was about
to make some reply; but just then Ben shut up the sides, separating Toby
and Mr. Stubbs, and the order was given to start.

Toby clambered up on to the high seat, Ben followed him, and in another
instant the team was moving along slowly down the dusty road, preceded
and followed by the many wagons, with their tiny swinging lights.

“Well,” said Ben, when he had got his team well under way and felt
that he could indulge in a little conversation, “how did you get along
today?”

Toby related all of his movements, and gave the driver a faithful
account of all that had happened to him, concluding his story by saying,
“That was one of Mrs. Treat’s doughnuts that I just gave to Mr. Stubbs.”

“To whom?” asked Ben, in surprise.

“To Mr. Stubbs--the old fellow here in the cart, you know, that’s been
so good to me.”

Toby heard a sort of gurgling sound, saw the driver’s body sway back and
forth in a trembling way, and was just becoming thoroughly alarmed,
when he thought of the previous night, and understood that Ben was only
laughing in his own peculiar way.

“How did you know his name was Stubbs?” asked Ben, after he had
recovered his breath.

“Oh, I don’t know that that is his real name,” was the quick reply; “I
only call him that because he looks so much like a feller with that name
that I knew at home. He don’t seem to mind because I call him Stubbs.”

Ben looked at Toby earnestly for a moment, acting all the time as if
he wanted to laugh again, but didn’t dare to, for fear he might burst a
blood vessel; and then he said, as he patted him on the shoulder: “Well,
you are the queerest little fish that I ever saw in all my travels. You
seem to think that that monkey knows all you say to him.”

“I’m sure he does,” said Toby, positively. “He don’t say anything right
out to me, but he knows everything I tell him. Do you suppose he could
talk if he tried to?”

“Look here, Mr. Toby Tyler”--and Ben turned half around in his seat
and looked Toby full in the face, so as to give more emphasis to his
words--“are you heathen enough to think that that monkey could talk if
he wanted to?”

“I know I hain’t a heathen,” said Toby, thoughtfully, “for if I had been
some of the missionaries would have found me out a good while ago; but
I never saw anybody like this old Mr. Stubbs before, an’ I thought he
could talk if he wanted to, just as the Living Skeleton does, or his
wife. Anyhow, Mr. Stubbs winked at me; an’ how could he do that if he
didn’t know what I’ve been sayin’ to him?”

“Look here, my son,” said Ben, in a most fatherly fashion, “monkeys
hain’t anything but beasts, an’ they don’t know how to talk any more
than they know what you say to ‘em.”

“Didn’t you ever hear any of them speak a word?”

“Never. I’ve been in a circus, man an’ boy, nigh on to forty years, an’
I never seen nothin’ in a monkey more ‘n any other beast, except their
awful mischiefness.”

“Well,” said Toby, still unconvinced, “I believe Mr. Stubbs knows what I
say to him, anyway.”

“Now don’t be foolish, Toby,” pleaded Ben. “You can’t show me one thing
that a monkey ever did because you told him to.”

Just at this moment Toby felt someone pulling at the back of his coat,
and, looking round, he saw it was a little brown hand, reaching through
the bars of the air hole of the cage, that was tugging away at his coat.

“There!” he said, triumphantly, to Ben. “Look there! I told Mr. Stubbs
if he wanted anything more to eat, to tell me an’ I would give it to
him. Now you can see for yourself that he’s come for it.” And Toby took
a doughnut from his pocket and put it into the tiny hand, which was
immediately withdrawn.

“Now what do you think of Mr. Stubbs knowing what I say to him?”

“They often stick their paws up through there,” said Ben, in a matter of
fact tone. “I’ve had ‘em pull my coat in the night till they made me
as nervous as ever any old woman was. You see, Toby my boy, monkeys is
monkeys; an’ you mustn’t go to gettin’ the idea that they’re anything
else, for it’s a mistake. You think this old monkey in here knows what
you say? Why, that’s just the cuteness of the old fellow--he watches you
to see if he can’t do just as you do, an’ that’s all there is about it.”

Toby was more than half convinced that Ben was putting the matter in its
proper light, and he would have believed all that had been said if, just
at that moment, he had not seen that brown hand reaching through the
hole to clutch him again by the coat.

The action seemed so natural, so like a hungry boy who gropes in
the dark pantry for something to eat, that it would have taken more
arguments than Ben had at his disposal to persuade Toby that his Mr.
Stubbs could not understand all that was said to him. Toby put another
doughnut in the outstretched hand, and then sat silently, as if in a
brown study over some difficult problem.

For some time the ride was continued in silence. Ben was going through
all the motions of whistling without uttering a sound--a favorite
amusement of his--and Toby’s thoughts were far away in the humble home
he had scorned, with Uncle Daniel, whose virtues had increased in his
esteem with every mile of distance which had been put between them, and
whose faults had decreased in a corresponding ratio.

Toby’s thoughtfulness had made him sleepy, and his eyes were almost
closed in slumber, when he was startled by a crashing sound, was
conscious of a feeling of being hurled from his seat by some great
force, and then he lay senseless by the side of the road, while the
wagon became a perfect wreck, from out of which a small army of monkeys
was escaping.

Ben’s experienced ear had told him at the first crash that his wagon was
breaking down, and, without having time to warn Toby of his peril, he
had leaped clear of the wreck, keeping his horses under perfect control
and thus averting more trouble. It was the breaking of one of the axles
which Toby had heard just before he was thrown from his seat and when
the body of the wagon came down upon the hard road.

The monkeys, thus suddenly released from confinement, had scampered off
in every direction, and by a singular chance Toby’s aged friend started
for the woods in such a direction as to bring him directly before the
boy’s insensible form. The monkey, on coming up to Toby, stopped, urged
by the well known curiosity of its race, and began to examine the boy’s
person carefully, prying into pockets and trying to open the boy’s half
closed eyelids. Fortunately for Toby, he had fallen upon a mud bank and
was only stunned for the moment, having received no serious bruises.
The attentions bestowed upon him by the monkey served the purpose of
bringing him to his senses; and, after he had looked around him in the
gray light of the coming morning, it would have taken far more of a
philosopher than Old Ben was to persuade the boy that monkeys did not
possess reasoning faculties.

The monkey was busy at Toby’s ears, nose, and mouth, as monkeys will
do when they get an opportunity, and the expression of its face was as
grave as possible. Toby firmly believed that the monkey’s face showed
sorrow at his fall, and he imagined that the attentions which were
bestowed upon him were for the purpose of learning whether he had been
injured or not.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Stubbs,” said Toby, anxious to reassure his friend, as
he sat upright and looked about him. “I didn’t get hurt any; but I would
like to know how I got way over here.”

It really seemed as if the monkey was pleased to know that his little
friend was not hurt, for he seated himself on his haunches, and his face
expressed the liveliest pleasure that Toby was well again--or at least
that was how the boy interpreted the look.

By this time the news of the accident had been shouted ahead from one
team to the other, and all hands were hurrying to the scene for the
purpose of rendering aid. As Toby saw them coming he also saw a number
of small forms, looking something like diminutive men, hurrying past
him, and for the first time he understood how it was that the aged
monkey was at liberty, and knew that those little dusky forms were the
other occupants of the cage escaping to the woods.

“See there, Mr. Stubbs! see there!” he exclaimed, pointing toward the
fugitives; “they’re all going off into the woods! What shall we do?”

The sight of the runaways seemed to excite the old monkey quite as much
as it did the boy. He sprang to his feet, chattering in the most excited
way, screamed two or three times, as if he were calling them back, and
then started off in vigorous pursuit.

“Now he’s gone too!” said Toby, disconsolately, believing the old fellow
had run away from him. “I didn’t think Mr. Stubbs would treat me this
way!”



VIII. CAPTURE OF THE MONKEYS


The boy tried to rise to his feet, but his head whirled so, and he felt
so dizzy and sick from the effects of his fall, that he was obliged to
sit down again until he should feel able to stand. Meanwhile the crowd
around the wagon paid no attention to him, and he lay there quietly
enough, until he heard the hateful voice of Mr. Lord asking if his boy
were hurt.

The sound of his voice affected Toby very much as the chills and fever
affect a sufferer, and he shook so with fear, and his heart beat so
loudly, that he thought Mr. Lord must know where he was by the sound.
Seeing, however, that his employer did not come directly toward him,
the thought flashed upon his mind that now would be a good chance to run
away, and he acted upon it at once. He rolled himself over in the mud
until he reached a low growth of fir trees that skirted the road, and
when beneath their friendly shade he rose to his feet and walked swiftly
toward the woods, following the direction the monkeys had taken.

He no longer felt dizzy and sick; the fear of Mr. Lord had dispelled all
that, and he felt strong and active again.

He had walked rapidly for some distance, and was nearly beyond the
sound of the voices in the road, when he was startled by seeing quite
a procession of figures emerge from the trees and come directly toward
him.

He could not understand the meaning of this strange company, and it so
frightened him that he attempted to hide behind a tree, in the hope
that they might pass without seeing him. But no sooner had he secreted
himself than a strange, shrill chattering came from the foremost of the
group, and in an instant Toby emerged from his place of concealment.

He had recognized the peculiar sound as that of the old monkey who had
left him a few moments before, and he knew now what he did not know
then, owing to the darkness. The newcomers were the monkeys that had
escaped from the cage, and had been overtaken and compelled to come
back by the old monkey, who seemed to have the most perfect control over
them.

The old fellow was leading the band, and all were linked “hand in hand”
 with each other, which gave the whole crowd a most comical appearance
as they came up to Toby, half hopping, half walking upright, and all
chattering and screaming, like a crowd of children out for a holiday.

Toby stepped toward the noisy crowd, held out his hand gravely to the
old monkey, and said, in tones of heartfelt sorrow:

“I felt awful bad because I thought you had gone off an’ left me, when
you went off to find the other fellows. You’re awful good, Mr. Stubbs;
an’ now, instead of runnin’ away, as I was goin’ to do, we’ll all go
back together.”

The old monkey grasped Toby’s extended hand with his disengaged paw,
and, clinging firmly to it, the whole crowd followed in unbroken line,
chattering and scolding at the most furious rate, while every now and
then Mr. Stubbs would look back and scream out something, which would
cause the confusion to cease for an instant.

It was really a comical sight, but Toby seemed to think it the most
natural thing in the world that they should follow him in this manner,
and he chattered to the old monkey quite as fast as any of the others
were doing. He told him very gravely all that he knew about the
accident, explained why it was that he conceived the idea of running
away, and really believed that Mr. Stubbs understood every word he was
saying.

Very shortly after Toby had started to run away the proprietor of the
circus drove up to the scene of disaster, and, after seeing that the
wagon was being rapidly fixed up so that it could be hauled to the next
town, he ordered that search should be made for the monkeys. It was very
important that they should be captured at once, and he appeared to think
more of the loss of the animals than of the damage done to the wagon.

While the men were forming a plan for a search for the truants, so that
in case of a capture they could let one another know, the noise made by
Toby and his party was heard, and the men stood still to learn what it
meant.

The entire party burst into shouts of laughter as Toby and his
companions walked into the circle of light formed by the glare of the
lanterns, and the merriment was by no means abated at Toby’s serious
demeanor. The wagon was now standing upright, with the door open, and
Toby therefore led his companions directly to it, gravely motioning them
to enter.

The old monkey, instead of obeying, stepped back to Toby’s side, and
screamed to the others in such a manner that they all entered the cage,
leaving him on the outside with the boy.

Toby motioned him to get in, too, but he clung to his hand, and scolded
so furiously that it was apparent he had no idea of leaving his boy
companion. One of the men stepped up and was about to force him into the
wagon, when the proprietor ordered him to stop.

“What boy is that?” he asked.

“Job Lord’s new boy,” said someone in the crowd.

The man asked Toby how it was that he had succeeded in capturing all the
runaways; and he answered, gravely:

“Mr. Stubbs an’ I are good friends, an’ when he saw the others runnin’
away he just stopped ‘em an’ brought ‘em back to me. I wish you’d let
Mr. Stubbs ride with me; we like each other a good deal.”

“You can do just what you please with Mr. Stubbs, as you call him. I
expected to lose half the monkeys in that cage, and you have brought
back every one. That monkey shall be yours, and you may put him in the
cage whenever you want to, or take him with you, just as you choose, for
he belongs entirely to you.”

Toby’s joy knew no bounds; he put his arm around the monkey’s neck, and
the monkey clung firmly to him, until even Job Lord was touched at the
evidence of affection between the two.

While the wagon was being repaired Toby and the monkey stood hand in
hand watching the work go on, while those in the cage scolded and raved
because they had been induced to return to captivity. After a while the
old monkey seated himself on Toby’s arm and cuddled close up to him,
uttering now and then a contented sort of a little squeak as the boy
talked to him.

That night Mr. Stubbs slept in Toby’s arms, in the band wagon, and both
boy and monkey appeared very well contented with their lot, which a
short time previous had seemed so hard.

When Toby awakened to his second day’s work with the circus his monkey
friend was seated by his side, gravely exploring his pockets, and all
the boy’s treasures were being spread out on the floor of the wagon by
his side. Toby remonstrated with him on this breach of confidence, but
Mr. Stubbs was more in the mood for sport than for grave conversation,
and the more Toby talked the more mischievous did he become, until
at length the boy gathered up his little store of treasures, took the
monkey by the paw, and walked him toward the cage from which he had
escaped on the previous night.

“Now, Mr. Stubbs,” said Toby, speaking in an injured tone, “you must go
in here and stay till I have got more time to fool with you.”

He opened the door of the cage, but the monkey struggled as well as he
was able, and Toby was obliged to exert all his strength to put him in.

When once the door was fastened upon him Toby tried to impress upon his
monkey friend’s mind the importance of being more sedate, and he was
convinced that the words had sunk deep into Mr. Stubbs’s heart, for, by
the time he had concluded, the old monkey was seated in the corner
of the cage, looking up from under his shaggy eyebrows in the most
reproachful manner possible.

Toby felt sorry that he had spoken so harshly, and was about to make
amends for his severity, when Mr. Lord’s gruff voice recalled him to the
fact that his time was not his own, and he therefore commenced his day’s
work, but with a lighter heart than he had had since he stole away from
Uncle Daniel and Guilford.

This day was not very much different from the preceding one so far as
the manner of Mr. Lord and his partner toward the boy was concerned;
they seemed to have an idea that he was doing only about half as much
work as he ought to, and both united in swearing at and abusing him as
much as possible.

So far as his relations with other members of the company were
concerned, Toby now stood in a much better position than before. Those
who had witnessed the scene told the others how Toby had led in the
monkeys on the night previous, and nearly every member of the company
had a kind word for the little fellow whose head could hardly be seen
above the counter of Messrs. Lord and Jacobs’s booth.



IX. THE DINNER PARTY


At noon Toby was thoroughly tired out, for whenever anyone spoke kindly
to him Mr. Lord seemed to take a malicious pleasure in giving him extra
tasks to do, until Toby began to hope that no one else would pay any
attention to him. On this day he was permitted to go to dinner first,
and after he returned he was left in charge of the booth. Trade being
dull--as it usually was during the dinner hour--he had very little
work to do after he had cleaned the glasses and set things to rights
generally.

When, therefore, he saw the gaunt form of the skeleton emerge from his
tent and come toward him he was particularly pleased, for he had begun
to think very kindly of the thin man and his fleshy wife.

“Well, Toby,” said the skeleton, as he came up to the booth, carefully
dusted Mr. Lord’s private chair, and sat down very cautiously in it, as
if he expected that it would break down under his weight, “I hear you’ve
been making quite a hero of yourself by capturing the monkeys last
night.”

Toby’s freckled face reddened with pleasure as he heard these words, and
he stammered out, with considerable difficulty, “I didn’t do anything;
it was Mr. Stubbs that brought ‘em back.”

“Mr. Stubbs!” And the skeleton laughed so heartily that Toby was afraid
he would dislocate some of his thinly covered joints. “When you was
tellin’ about Mr. Stubbs yesterday I thought you meant someone belonging
to the company. You ought to have seen my wife Lilly shake with laughing
when I told her who Mr. Stubbs was!”

“Yes,” said Toby, at a loss to know just what to say, “I should think
she would shake when she laughs.”

“She does,” replied the skeleton. “If you could see her when something
funny strikes her you’d think she was one of those big plates of jelly
that they have in the bakeshop windows.” And Mr. Treat looked proudly at
the gaudy picture which represented his wife in all her monstrosity of
flesh. “She’s a great woman, Toby, an’ she’s got a great head.”

Toby nodded his head in assent. He would have liked to say something
nice regarding Mrs. Treat, but he really did not know what to say, so he
simply contented himself and the fond husband by nodding.

“She thinks a good deal of you, Toby,” continued the skeleton, as he
moved his chair to a position more favorable for him to elevate his feet
on the edge of the counter, and placed his handkerchief under him as a
cushion; “she’s talking of you all the time, and if you wasn’t such a
little fellow I should begin to be jealous of you--I should, upon my
word.”

“You’re--both--very--good,” stammered Toby, so weighted down by a sense
of the honor heaped upon him as to be at a loss for words.

“An’ she wants to see more of you. She made me come out here now, when
she knew Mr. Lord would be away, to tell you that we’re goin’ to have a
little kind of a friendly dinner in our tent tomorrow--she’s cooked it
all herself, or she’s going to--and we want you to come in an’ have some
with us.”

Toby’s eyes glistened at the thought of the unexpected pleasure, and
then his face grew sad as he replied, “I’d like to come first rate, Mr.
Treat, but I don’t s’pose Mr. Lord would let me stay away from the shop
long enough.”

“Why, you won’t have any work to do tomorrow, Toby--it’s Sunday.”

“So it is!” said the boy, with a pleased smile, as he thought of the
day of rest which was so near. And then he added, quickly: “An’ this is
Saturday afternoon. What fun the boys at home are havin’! You see, there
hain’t any school Saturday afternoon, an all the fellers go out in the
woods.”

“And you wish you were there to go with them, don’t you?” asked the
skeleton, sympathetically.

“Indeed I do!” exclaimed Toby, quickly. “It’s twice as good as any
circus that ever was.”

“But you didn’t think so before you came with us, did you?”

“I didn’t know so much about circuses then as I do now,” replied the
boy, sadly.

Mr. Treat saw that he was touching on a sore subject, and one which was
arousing sad thoughts in his little companion’s mind, and he hastened to
change it at once.

“Then I can tell Lilly that you’ll come, can I?”

“Oh yes, I’ll be sure to be there; an’ I want you to know just how good
I think you both are to me.”

“That’s all right, Toby,” said Mr. Treat, with a pleased expression on
his face; “an’ you may bring Mr. Stubbs with you, if you want.”

“Thank you,” said Toby. “I’m sure Mr. Stubbs will be just as glad to
come as I shall. But where will we be tomorrow?”

“Right here. We always stay over Sunday at the place where we show
Saturday. But I must be going, or Lilly will worry her life out of her
for fear I’m somewhere getting cold. She’s awful careful of me, that
woman is. You’ll be on hand tomorrow at one o’clock, won’t you?”

“Indeed I will,” said Toby, emphatically, “an’ I’ll bring Mr. Stubbs
with me, too.”

With a friendly nod of his head, the skeleton hurried away to reassure
his wife that he was safe and well; and before he had hardly disappeared
within the tent Toby had another caller, who was none other than his old
friend Old Ben, the driver.

“Well, my boy,” shouted Ben, in his cheery, hearty tones, “I haven’t
seen you since you left the wagon so sudden last night. Did you get
shook up much?”

“Oh no,” replied Toby. “You see I hain’t very big; an’ then I struck in
the mud; so I got off pretty easy.”

“That’s a fact; an’ you can thank your lucky stars for it, too, for I’ve
seen grown up men get pitched off a wagon in that way an break their
necks doin’ it. But has Job told you where you was going to sleep
tonight? You know we stay over here till tomorrow.”

“I didn’t think anything about that; but I s’pose I’ll sleep in the
wagon, won’t I?”

“You can sleep at the hotel, if you want to; but the beds will likely be
dirty; an’ if you take my advice you’ll crawl into some of the wagons in
the tent.”

Ben then explained to him that, after his work was done that night, he
would not be expected to report for duty until the time for starting on
Sunday night, and concluded his remarks by saying:

“Now you know what your rights are, an don’t you let Job impose on you
in any way. I’ll be round here after you get through work, an’ we’ll
bunk in somewhere together.”

The arrival of Messrs. Lord and Jacobs put a stop to the conversation,
and was the signal for Toby’s time of trial. It seemed to him, and with
good reason, that the chief delight these men had in life was to torment
him, for neither ever spoke a pleasant word to him; and when one was not
giving him some difficult work to do, or finding fault in some way, the
other would be sure to do so; and Toby had very little comfort from the
time he began work in the morning until he stopped at night.

It was not until after the evening performance was over that Toby had a
chance to speak with Mr. Stubbs, and then he was so tired that he simply
took the old monkey from the cage, nestled him under his jacket, and lay
down with him to sleep in the place which Old Ben had selected.

When the morning came Mr. Stubbs aroused his young master at a much
‘earlier hour than he would have awakened had he been left to himself,
and the two went out for a short walk before breakfast. They went
instinctively toward the woods; and when the shade of the trees was once
reached, how the two reveled in their freedom! Mr. Stubbs climbed into
the trees, swung himself from one to the other by means of his tail,
gathered half ripe nuts, which he threw at his master, tried to catch
the birds, and had a good time generally.

Toby, stretched at full length on the mossy bank, watched the antics of
his pet, laughing boisterously at times as Mr. Stubbs would do some one
thing more comical than usual, and forgot there was in this world such
a thing as a circus or such a man as Job Lord. It was to Toby a morning
without a flaw, and he took no heed of the time, until the sound of the
church bells warned him of the lateness of the hour, reminding him at
the same time of where he should be--where he would be, if he were at
home with Uncle Daniel.

In the mean time the old monkey had been trying to attract his young
master’s attention, and, failing in his efforts, he came down from the
tree, crept softly up to Toby, and nestled his head under the boy’s arm.

This little act of devotion seemed to cause Toby’s grief to burst forth
afresh, and, clasping the monkey around the neck, hugging him close to
his bosom, he sobbed:

“Oh, Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Stubbs, how lonesome we are! If we was only at
Uncle Dan’l’s we’d be the two happiest people in all this world. We
could play on the hay, or go up to the pasture, or go down to the
village; an’ I’d work my fingers off if I could only be there just once
more. It was wicked for me to run away, an’ now I’m gettin’ paid for
it.”

He hugged the monkey closely, swaying his body to and fro, and
presenting a perfect picture of grief. The monkey, not knowing what to
make of this changed mood, cowered whimperingly in his arms, looking
up into his face, and licking the boy’s hands whenever he had the
opportunity.

It was some time before Toby’s grief exhausted itself; and then, still
clasping the monkey, he hurried out of the woods toward the town and the
now thoroughly hated circus tents.

The clocks were just striking one as Toby entered the inclosure used by
the show as a place of performance, and, remembering his engagement
with the skeleton and his wife, he went directly to their tent. From the
odors which assailed him as he entered, it was very evident that a feast
of no mean proportions was in course of preparation, and Toby’s keen
appetite returned in full vigor. Even the monkey seemed affected by the
odor, for he danced about on his master’s shoulder, and chattered so
that Toby was obliged to choke him a little in order to make him present
a respectable appearance.

When Toby reached the interior of the tent he was astonished at the
extent of the preparations that were being made, and gazed around him in
surprise. The platform on which the lean man and fat woman were in
the habit of exhibiting themselves now bore a long table, loaded with
eatables; and, from the fact that eight or ten chairs were ranged around
it, Toby understood that he was not the only guest invited to the feast.
Some little attempt had also been made at decoration by festooning that
end of the tent where the platform was placed with two or three flags
and some streamers, and the tent poles also were fringed with tissue
paper of the brightest colors.

Toby had only time enough to notice this when the skeleton advanced
toward him, and, with the liveliest appearance of pleasure, said, as he
took him by the hands with a grip that made him wince:

“It gives me great joy, Mr. Tyler, to welcome you at one of our little
home reunions, if one can call a tent, that is moved every day in the
week, home.”

Toby hardly knew whom Mr. Treat referred to when he said “Mr. Tyler”;
but by the time his hands were released from the bony grasp he
understood that it was himself who was spoken to.

The skeleton then formally introduced him to the other guests present,
who were sitting at one end of the tent, and evidently anxiously
awaiting the coming feast.

“These,” said Mr. Treat, as he waved his hand toward two white haired,
pink eyed young ladies who sat with their arms twined around each
other’s waist, and had been eying the monkey with some appearance of
fear, “are the Miss Cushings, known to the world as the Albino Children;
they command a large salary and form a very attractive feature of our
exhibition.”

The young ladies arose at the same time, as if they had been the Siamese
Twins and could not act independently of each other, and bowed.

Toby made the best bow he was capable of; and the monkey made frantic
efforts to escape, as if he would enjoy twisting his paws in their
perpendicular hair.

“And this,” continued Mr. Treat, pointing to a sickly, sour looking
individual who was sitting apart from the others, with his arms folded,
and looking as if he was counting the very seconds before the dinner
should begin, “is the wonderful Signor Castro, whose sword swallowing
feats you have doubtless heard of.”

Toby stepped back just one step, as if overwhelmed by awe at beholding
the signor in the guise of a humble individual; and the gentleman who
gained his livelihood by swallowing swords unbent his dignity so far
as to unfold his arms and present a very dirty looking hand for Toby
to shake. The boy took hold of the outstretched hand, wondering why the
signor never used soap and water; and Mr. Stubbs, apparently afraid
of the sour looking man, retreated to Toby’s shoulder, where he sat
chattering and scolding about the introduction.

Again the skeleton waved his hand, and this time he introduced
“Mademoiselle Spelletti, the wonderful snake charmer, whose exploits
in this country, and before the crowned heads of Europe had caused the
whole world to stand aghast at her daring.”

Mademoiselle Spelletti was a very ordinary looking young lady of about
twenty-five years of age, who looked very much as if her name might
originally have been Murphy, and she, too, extended a hand for Toby to
grasp--only her hand was clean, and she appeared to be a very much more
pleasant acquaintance than the gentleman who swallowed swords.

This ended the introductions; and Toby was just looking around for a
seat, when Mrs. Treat, the fat lady and the giver of the feast which
was about to come, and which already smelled so invitingly, entered from
behind a curtain of canvas, where the cooking stove was supposed to be
located.

She had every appearance of being the cook for the occasion. Her sleeves
were rolled up, her hair tumbled and frowzy, and there were several
unmistakable marks of grease on the front of her calico dress.

She waited for no ceremony, but rushed up to Toby and, taking him in her
arms, gave him such a squeeze that there seemed to be every possibility
that she would break all the bones in his body; and she kept him so long
in this bearlike embrace that Mr. Stubbs reached his little brown paws
over and got such a hold of her hair that all present, save Signor
Castro, rushed forward to release her from the monkey’s grasp.

“You dear little thing!” said Mrs. Treat, paying but slight attention
to the hair pulling she had just undergone, and holding Toby at arm’s
length so that she could look into his face, “you were so late that I
was afraid you wasn’t coming; and my dinner wouldn’t have tasted half so
good if you hadn’t been here to eat some.”

Toby hardly knew what to say for this hearty welcome, and he managed to
tell the large and kind hearted lady that he had had no idea of missing
the dinner, and that he was very glad she wanted him to come.

“Want you to come, you dear little thing!” she exclaimed, as she gave
him another hug, but careful not to give Mr. Stubbs a chance of grasping
her hair again. “Of course I wanted you to come, for this dinner has
been got up so that you could meet these people here, and so that they
could see you.”

Toby was entirely at a loss to know what to say to this overwhelming
compliment, and for that reason did not say anything, only submitting
patiently to the third hug, which was all Mrs. Treat had time to give
him, as she was obliged to rush behind the canvas screen again, as there
were unmistakable sounds of something boiling over on the stove.

“You’ll excuse me,” said the skeleton, with an air of dignity, waving
his hand once more toward the assembled company, “but while introducing
you to Mr. Tyler I had almost forgotten to introduce him to you. This,
ladies and gentlemen”--and here he touched Toby on the shoulder, as if
he were some living curiosity whose habits and mode of capture he was
about to explain to a party of spectators--“is Mr. Toby Tyler, of whom
you heard on the night when the monkey cage was smashed, and who now
carries with him the identical monkey which was presented to him by
the manager of this great show as a token of esteem for his skill and
bravery in capturing the entire lot of monkeys without a single blow.”

By the time that Mr. Treat got through with his long speech Toby felt
very much as if he were some wonderful creature whom the skeleton was
exhibiting; but he managed to rise to his feet and duck his little red
head in his best imitation of a bow. Then he sat down and hugged Mr.
Stubbs to cover his confusion.

One of the Albino Children now came forward, and, while stroking Mr.
Stubbs’s hair, looked so intently at Toby that for the life of him he
couldn’t say which she regarded as the curiosity, himself or the monkey;
therefore he hastened to say, modestly:

“I didn’t do much toward catchin’ the monkeys; Mr. Stubbs here did
almost all of it, an’ I only led ‘em in.

“There, there, my boy,” said the skeleton, in a fatherly tone, “I’ve
heard the whole story from Old Ben, an’ I sha’n’t let you get out of it
like that. We all know what you did, an’ it’s no use for you to deny any
part of it.”



X. MR. STUBBS AT A PARTY


Toby was about to say that he did not intend to represent the matter
other than it really was, when a voice from behind the canvas screen
arrested further conversation.

“Sam-u-el, come an’ help me carry these things in.”

Something very like a smile of satisfaction passed over Signor Castro’s
face as he heard this, which told him that the time for the feast was
near at hand; and the snake charmer, as well as the Albino Children,
seemed quite as much pleased as did the sword swallower.

“You will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” said the skeleton, in an
important tone; “I must help Lilly, and then I shall have the pleasure
of helping you to some of her cooking, which, if I do say it, that
oughtn’t, is as good as can be found in this entire country.”

Then he, too, disappeared behind the canvas screen.

Left alone, Toby looked at the ladies, and the ladies looked at him,
in perfect silence, while the sword swallower grimly regarded them all,
until Mr. Treat reappeared, bearing on a platter an immense turkey, as
nicely browned as any Thanksgiving turkey Toby ever saw. Behind him
came his fat wife, carrying several dishes, each of which emitted a most
fragrant odor; and as these were placed upon the table the spirits of
the sword swallower seemed to revive, and he smiled pleasantly; while
even the ladies appeared animated by the sight and odor of the good
things which they were to be called upon so soon to pass judgment.

Several times did Mr. and Mrs. Treat bustle in and out from behind the
screen, and each time they made some addition to that which was upon the
table, until Toby began to fear that they would never finish, and the
sword swallower seemed unable to restrain his impatience.

At last the finishing touch had been put to the table, the last dish
placed in position, and then, with a certain kind of grace, which no one
but a man as thin as Mr. Treat could assume, he advanced to the edge of
the platform and said:

“Ladies and gentlemen, nothing gives me greater pleasure than to invite
you all, including Mr. Tyler’s friend Stubbs, to the bountiful repast
which my Lilly has prepared for--”

At this point Mr. Treat’s speech--for it certainly seemed as if he had
commenced to make one--was broken off in a most summary manner. His wife
had come up behind him and, with as much ease as if he had been a child,
lifted him from off the floor and placed him gently in the chair at the
head of the table.

“Come right up and get dinner,” she said to her guests. “If you had
waited until Samuel had finished his speech everything on the table
would have been stone cold.”

The guests proceeded to obey her kindly command; and it is to be
regretted that the sword swallower had no better manners than to jump
on to the platform with one bound and seat himself at the table with the
most unseemly haste. The others, and more especially Toby, proceeded in
a leisurely and more dignified manner.

A seat had been placed by the side of the one intended for Toby for the
accommodation of Mr. Stubbs, who suffered a napkin to be tied under his
chin, and behaved generally in a manner that gladdened the heart of his
young master.

Mr. Treat cut generous slices from the turkey for each guest, and Mrs.
Treat piled their plates high with all sorts of vegetables, complaining,
after the manner of housewives generally, that the food was not cooked
as she would like to have had it, and declaring that she had had poor
luck with everything that morning, when she firmly believed in her heart
that her table had never looked better.

After the company had had the edge taken off their appetites--which
effect was produced on the sword swallower only after he had been helped
three different times, the conversation began by the fat woman asking
Toby how he got along with Mr. Lord.

Toby could not give a very good account of his employer, but he had the
good sense not to cast a damper on a party of pleasure by reciting his
own troubles; so he said, evasively:

“I guess I shall get along pretty well, now that I have got so many
friends.”

Just as he had commenced to speak the skeleton had put into his mouth
a very large piece of turkey--very much larger in proportion than
himself--and when Toby had finished speaking he started to say something
evidently not very complimentary to Mr. Lord. But what it was the
company never knew; for just as he opened his mouth to speak, the food
went down the wrong way, his face became a bright purple, and it was
quite evident that he was choking.

Toby was alarmed, and sprang from his chair to assist his friend,
upsetting Mr. Stubbs from his seat, causing him to scamper up the tent
pole, with the napkin still tied around his neck, and to scold in his
most vehement manner. Before Toby could reach the skeleton, however, the
fat woman had darted toward her lean husband, caught him by the arm, and
was pounding his back, by the time Toby got there, so vigorously that
the boy was afraid her enormous hand would go through his tissue paper
like frame.

“I wouldn’t,” said Toby, in alarm; “you may break him.”

“Don’t you get frightened,” said Mrs. Treat, turning her husband
completely over, and still continuing the drumming process. “He’s often
taken this way; he’s such a glutton that he’d try to swallow the turkey
whole if he could get it in his mouth, an’ he’s so thin that ‘most
anything sticks in his throat.”

“I should think you’d break him all up,” said Toby, apologetically, as
he resumed his seat at the table; “he don’t look as if he could stand
very much of that sort of thing.”

But apparently Mr. Treat could stand very much more than Toby gave him
credit for, because at this juncture he stopped coughing, and his face
fast assumed its natural hue.

His attentive wife, seeing that he had ceased struggling, lifted him in
her arms and sat him down in his chair with a force that threatened to
snap his head off.

“There!” she said, as he wheezed a little from the effects of the shock,
“now see if you can behave yourself an’ chew your meat as you ought to!
One of these days when you’re alone you’ll try that game, and that ‘ll
be the last of you.”

“If he’d try to do one of my tricks long enough he’d get so that there
wouldn’t hardly anything choke him,” the sword swallower ventured to
suggest, mildly, as he wiped a small stream of cranberry sauce from his
chin and laid a well polished turkey bone by the side of his plate.

“I’d like to see him try it!” said the fat lady, with just a shade
of anger in her voice. Then turning toward her husband, she said,
emphatically, “Samuel, don’t you ever let me catch you swallowing a
sword!”

“I won’t, my love, I won’t; and I will try to chew my meat more,”
 replied the very thin glutton, in a feeble tone. Toby thought that
perhaps the skeleton might keep the first part of that promise, but he
was not quite sure about the last.

It required no little coaxing on the part of both Toby and Mrs. Treat
to induce Mr. Stubbs to come down from his lofty perch; but the task was
accomplished at last, and by the gift of a very large doughnut he was
induced to resume his seat at the table.

The time had now come when the duties of a host, in his own peculiar way
of viewing them, devolved upon Mr. Treat, and he said, as he pushed his
chair back a short distance from the table and tried to polish the front
of his vest with his napkin:

“I don’t want this fact lost sight of, because it is an important one:
everyone must remember that we have gathered here to meet and become
better acquainted with the latest and best addition to this circus, Mr.
Toby Tyler.”

Poor Toby! As the company all looked directly at him, and Mrs. Treat
nodded her enormous head energetically, as if to say that she agreed
exactly with her husband, the poor boy’s face grew very red and the
squash pie lost its flavor.

“Although Mr. Tyler may not be exactly one of us, owing to the fact that
he does not belong to the profession, but is only one of the adjuncts
to it, so to speak,” continued the skeleton, in a voice which was fast
being raised to its highest pitch, “we feel proud, after his exploits
at the time of the accident, to have him with us, and gladly welcome him
now, through the medium of this little feast prepared by my Lilly.”

Here the Albino Children nodded their heads in approval, and the sword
swallower gave a grunt of assent; and, thus encouraged, the skeleton
proceeded:

“I feel, when I say that we like and admire Mr. Tyler, all present will
agree with me and all would like to hear him say a word for himself.”

The skeleton seemed to have expressed the views of those present
remarkably well, judging from their expressions of pleasure and assent,
and all waited for the honored guest to speak.

Toby knew that he must say something, but he couldn’t think of a single
thing; he tried over and over again to call to his mind something which
he had read as to how people acted and what they said when they were
expected to speak at a dinner table, but his thoughts refused to go back
for him, and the silence was actually becoming painful. Finally, and
with the greatest effort, he managed to say, with a very perceptible
stammer, and while his face was growing very red:

“I know I ought to say something to pay for this big dinner that you
said was gotten up for me, but I don’t know what to say, unless to thank
you for it. You see, I hain’t big enough to say much, an’, as Uncle
Dan’l says, I don’t amount to very much, ‘cept for eatin’, an’ I guess
he’s right. You’re all real good to me, an’ when I get to be a man I’ll
try to do as much for you.”

Toby had risen to his feet when he began to make his speech, and while
he was speaking Mr. Stubbs had crawled over into his chair. When he
finished he sat down again without looking behind him, and of course sat
plump on the monkey. There was a loud outcry from Mr. Stubbs, a little
frightened noise from Toby, an instant’s scrambling, and then boy,
monkey, and chair tumbled off the platform, landing on the ground in
an indescribable mass, from which the monkey extricated himself more
quickly than Toby could, and again took refuge on the top of the tent
pole.

Of course all the guests ran to Toby’s assistance; and while the fat
woman poked him all over to see that none of his bones were broken, the
skeleton brushed the dirt from his clothes.

All this time the monkey screamed, yelled, and danced around on the tent
pole and ropes, as if his feelings had received a shock from which he
could never recover.

“I didn’t mean to end it up that way, but it was Mr. Stubbs’s fault,”
 said Toby, as soon as quiet had been restored and the guests, with the
exception of the monkey, were seated at the table once more.

“Of course you didn’t,” said Mrs. Treat, in a kindly tone. “But don’t
you feel bad about it one bit, for you ought to thank your lucky stars
that you didn’t break any of your bones.”

“I s’pose I had,” said Toby, soberly, as he looked back at the scene of
his disaster, and then up at the chattering monkey that had caused all
the trouble.

Shortly after this, Mr. Stubbs having again been coaxed down from his
lofty position, Toby took his departure, promising to call as often
during the week as he could get away from his exacting employers.

Just outside the tent he met Old Ben, who said, as he showed signs of
indulging in another of his internal laughing spells:

“Hello! has the skeleton an’ his lily of a wife been givin’ a blowout to
you, too?”

“They invited me in there to dinner,” said Toby, modestly.

“Of course they did--of course they did,” replied Ben, with a chuckle;
“they carries a cookin’ stove along with ‘em, so’s they can give these
little spreads whenever we stay over a day in a place. Oh, I’ve been
there!”

“And did they ask you to make a speech?”

“Of course. Did they try it on you?”

“Yes,” said Toby, mournfully, “an’ I tumbled off the platform when I got
through.”

“I didn’t do exactly that,” replied Ben, thoughtfully; “but I s’pose you
got too much steam on, seein’ ‘s how it was likely your first speech.
Now you’d better go into the tent an try to get a little sleep, ‘cause
we’ve got a long ride tonight over a rough road, an’ you won’t get more
‘n a cat nap all night.”

“But where are you going?” asked Toby, as he shifted Mr. Stubbs over to
his other shoulder, preparatory to following his friend’s advice.

“I’m goin’ to church,” said Ben, and then Toby noticed for the first
time that the old driver had made some attempt at dressing up. “I’ve
been with the circus, man an boy, for nigh to forty years, an’ I allus
go to meetin’ once on Sunday. It’s somethin’ I promised my old mother I
would do, an’ I hain’t broke my promise yet.”

“Why don’t you take me with you?” asked Toby, wistfully, as he
thought of the little church on the hill at home, and wished--oh, so
earnestly!--that he was there then, even at the risk of being thumped on
the head with Uncle Daniel’s book.

“If I’d seen you this mornin’ I would,” said Ben; “but now you must try
to bottle up some sleep ag’in’ tonight, an’ next Sunday I’ll take you.”

With these words Old Ben started off, and Toby proceeded to carry out
his wishes, although he rather doubted the possibility of “bottling up”
 any sleep that afternoon.

He lay down on the top of the wagon, after having put Mr. Stubbs inside,
with the others of his tribe, and in a very few moments the boy was
sound asleep, dreaming of a dinner party at which Mr. Stubbs made a
speech and he himself scampered up and down the tent pole.



XI. A STORMY NIGHT


When Toby awoke it was nearly dark, and the bustle around him told very
plainly that the time for departure was near at hand. He rubbed his eyes
just enough to make sure that he was thoroughly awake, and then jumped
down from his rather lofty bed, and ran around to the door of the cage
to assure himself that Mr. Stubbs was safe. This done, his preparations
for the journey were made.

Now Toby noticed that each one of the drivers was clad in rubber
clothing, and, after listening for a moment, he learned the cause of
their waterproof garments. It was raining very hard, and Toby thought
with dismay of the long ride that he would have to take on the top of
the monkeys’ cage, with no protection whatever save that afforded by his
ordinary clothing.

While he was standing by the side of his wagon, wondering how he should
get along, Old Ben came in. The water was pouring from his clothes in
little rivulets, and he afforded most unmistakable evidence of the damp
state of the weather.

“It’s a nasty night, my boy,” said the old driver, in much the same
cheery tone that he would have used had he been informing Toby that it
was a beautiful moonlight evening.

“I guess I’ll get wet,” said Toby, ruefully, as he looked up at the
lofty seat which he was to occupy.

“Bless me!” said Ben, as if the thought had just come to him, “it won’t
do for you to ride outside on a night like this. You wait here, an’ I’ll
see what I can do for you.”

The old man hurried off to the other end of the tent, and almost before
Toby thought he had time to go as far as the ring he returned.

“It’s all right,” he said, and this time in a gruff voice, as if he were
announcing some misfortune; “you ‘re to ride in the women’s wagon. Come
with me.”

Toby followed without a question, though he was wholly at a loss to
understand what the “women’s wagon” was, for he had never seen anything
which looked like one.

He soon learned, however, when Old Ben stopped in front--or, rather, at
the end--of a long, covered wagon that looked like an omnibus, except
that it was considerably longer, and the seats inside were divided by
arms, padded, to make them comfortable to lean against.

“Here’s the boy,” said Ben, as he lifted Toby up on the step, gave him a
gentle push to intimate that he was to get inside, and then left him.

As Toby stepped inside he saw that the wagon was nearly full of women
and children; and fearing lest he should take a seat that belonged to
someone else, he stood in the middle of the wagon, not knowing what to
do.

“Why don’t you sit down, little boy?” asked one of the ladies, after
Toby had remained standing nearly five minutes and the wagon was about
to start.

“Well,” said Toby, with some hesitation, as he looked around at the two
or three empty seats that remained, “I didn’t want to get in anybody
else’s place an’ I didn’t know where to sit.”

“Come right here,” said the lady, as she pointed to a seat by the side
of a little girl who did not look any older than Toby; “the lady who
usually occupies that seat will not be here tonight, and you can have
it.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Toby, as he sat timidly down on the edge of the
seat, hardly daring to sit back comfortably, and feeling very awkward
meanwhile, but congratulating himself on being thus protected from the
pouring rain.

The wagon started, and as each one talked with her neighbor, Toby felt a
most dismal sense of loneliness, and almost wished that he was riding on
the monkey cart with Ben, where he could have someone to talk with. He
gradually pushed himself back into a more comfortable position, and had
then an opportunity of seeing more plainly the young girl who rode by
his side.

She was quite as young as Toby, and small of her age; but there was an
old look about her face that made the boy think of her as being an old
woman cut down to fit children’s clothes. Toby had looked at her so
earnestly that she observed him, and asked, “What is your name?”

“Toby Tyler.”

“What do you do in the circus?”

“Sell candy for Mr. Lord.”

“Oh! I thought you was a new member of the company.”

Toby knew by the tone of her voice that he had fallen considerably
in her estimation by not being one of the performers, and it was some
little time before he ventured to speak; and then he asked, timidly,
“What do you do?”

“I ride one of the horses with mother.”

“Are you the little girl that comes out with the lady an’ four horses?”
 asked Toby, in awe that he should be conversing with so famous a person.

“Yes, I am. Don’t I do it nicely?”

“Why, you’re a perfect little--little--fairy!” exclaimed Toby, after
hesitating a moment to find some word which would exactly express his
idea.

This praise seemed to please the young lady, and in a short time the
two became very good friends, even if Toby did not occupy a more exalted
position than that of candy seller. She had learned from him all about
the accident to the monkey cage, and about Mr. Stubbs, and in return
had told him that her name was Ella Mason, though on the bills she was
called “Mademoiselle Jeannette.”

For a long time the two children sat talking together, and then
Mademoiselle Jeannette curled herself up on the seat, with her head in
her mother’s lap, and went to sleep.

Toby had resolved to keep awake and watch her, for he was struck with
admiration at her face; but sleep got the better of him in less than
five minutes after he had made the resolution, and he sat bolt upright,
with his little round head nodding and bobbing until it seemed almost
certain that he would shake it off.

When Toby awoke the wagon was drawn up by the side of the road, the sun
was shining brightly, preparations were being made for the entree into
town, and the harsh voice of Mr. Job Lord was shouting his name in
a tone that boded no good for poor Toby when he should make his
appearance.

Toby would have hesitated before meeting his angry employer but that he
knew it would only make matters worse for him when he did show himself,
and he mentally braced himself for the trouble which he knew was coming.
The little girl whose acquaintance he had made the night previous was
still sleeping; and, wishing to say goodby to her in some way without
awakening her, he stooped down and gently kissed the skirt of her dress.
Then he went out to meet his master.

Mr. Lord was thoroughly enraged when Toby left the wagon, and saw the
boy just as he stepped to the ground. The angry man gave a quick glance
around, to make sure that none of Toby’s friends were in sight, and then
caught him by the coat collar and commenced to whip him severely with
the small rubber cane that he usually carried.

Mr. Job Lord lifted the poor boy entirely clear of the ground, and
each blow that he struck could be heard almost the entire length of the
circus train.

“You’ve been makin’ so many acquaintances here that you hain’t willin’
to do any work,” he said, savagely, as he redoubled the force of his
blows.

“Oh, please stop! please stop!” shrieked the poor boy in his agony.
“I’ll do everything you tell me to, if you won’t strike me again!”

This piteous appeal seemed to have no effect upon the cruel man, and he
continued to whip the boy, despite his cries and entreaties, until
his arm fairly ached from the exertion and Toby’s body was crossed and
recrossed with the livid marks of the cane.

“Now let’s see whether you’ll ‘tend to your work or not!” said the
man as he flung Toby from him with such force that the boy staggered,
reeled, and nearly fell into the little brook that flowed by the
roadside. “I’ll make you understand that all the friends you’ve whined
around in this show can’t save you from a lickin’ when I get ready to
give you one! Now go an’ do your work that ought to have been done an
hour ago!”

Mr. Lord walked away with the proud consciousness of a man who has
achieved a great victory, and Toby was limping painfully along toward
the cart that was used in conveying Mr. Lord’s stock in trade, when he
felt a tiny hand slip into his and heard a childish voice say:

“Don’t cry, Toby. Sometime, when I get big enough, I’ll make Mr. Lord
sorry that he whipped you as he did; and I’m big enough now to tell him
just what kind of a man I think he is.”

Looking around, Toby saw his little acquaintance of the evening
previous, and he tried to force back the big tears that were rolling
down his cheeks as he said, in a voice choked with grief: “You’re awful
good, an’ I don’t mind the lickin’ when you say you’re sorry for me. I
s’pose I deserve it for runnin’ away from Uncle Dan’l.”

“Did it hurt you much?” she asked, feelingly.

“It did when he was doin’ it,” replied Toby, manfully, “but it don’t a
bit, now that you’ve come.”

“Then I’ll go and talk to that Mr. Lord, and I’ll come and see you again
after we get into town,” said the little miss, as she hurried away to
tell the candy vender what she thought of him.

That day, as on all others since he had been with the circus, Toby went
to his work with a heavy heart, and time and time again did he count the
money which had been given him by kind hearted strangers, to see whether
he had enough to warrant his attempting to run away. Three dollars and
twenty-five cents was the total amount of his treasure, and, large
as that sum appeared to him, he could not satisfy himself that he
had sufficient to enable him to get back to the home which he had so
wickedly left. Whenever he thought of this home, of the Uncle Daniel
who had in charity cared for him--a motherless, fatherless boy--and of
returning to it, with not even as much right as the Prodigal Son, of
whom he had heard Uncle Daniel tell, his heart sank within him and he
doubted whether he would be allowed to remain even if he should be so
fortunate as ever to reach Guilford again.

This day passed, so far as Toby was concerned, very much as had the
others: he could not satisfy either of his employers, try as hard as he
might; but, as usual, he met with two or three kindly disposed people,
who added to the fund that he was accumulating for his second venture of
running away by little gifts of money, each one of which gladdened his
heart and made his trouble a trifle less hard to bear.

During the entire week he was thus equally fortunate. Each day added
something to his fund, and each night it seemed to Toby that he was one
day nearer the freedom for which he so ardently longed.

The skeleton, the fat lady, Old Ben, the Albino Children, little Ella,
and even the sword swallower, all gave him a kindly word as they passed
him while he was at his work, or saw him as the preparations for the
grand entree were being made.

The time had passed slowly to Toby, and yet Sunday came again--as
Sundays always come; and on this day Old Ben hunted him up, made him
wash his face and hands until they fairly shone from very cleanliness,
and then took him to church. Toby was surprised to find that it was
really a pleasant thing to be able to go to church after being deprived
of it, and was more light hearted than he had yet been since he left
Guilford when he returned to the tent at noon.

The skeleton had invited him to another dinner party, but Toby had
declined the invitation, agreeing to present himself in time for supper
instead. He hardly cared to go through the ordeal of another state
dinner; and besides, he wanted to go off to the woods with the old
monkey, where he could enjoy the silence of the forest, which seemed
like a friend to him, because it reminded him of home.

Taking the monkey with him as usual, he inquired the nearest way to a
grove, and, without waiting for dinner, started off for an afternoon’s
quiet enjoyment.



XII. TOBY’S GREAT MISFORTUNE


The town in which the circus remained over Sunday was a small one, and a
brisk walk of ten minutes sufficed to take Toby into a secluded portion
of a very thickly grown wood, where he could lie upon the mossy ground
and fairly revel in freedom.

As he lay upon his back, his hands under his head, and his eyes directed
to the branches of the trees above, where the birds twittered and sung,
and the squirrels played in fearless sport, the monkey enjoyed himself
in his way, by playing all the monkey antics he knew of.

He scrambled from tree to tree, swung himself from one branch to the
other by the aid of his tail, and amused both himself and his master,
until, tired by his exertions, he crept down by Toby’s side and lay
there in quiet, restful content.

One of Toby’s reasons for wishing to be by himself that afternoon was
that he wanted to think over some plan of escape, for he believed that
he had nearly money enough to enable him to make a bold stroke for
freedom and Uncle Daniel’s. Therefore, when the monkey nestled down
by his side he was all ready to confide in him that which had been
occupying his busy little brain for the past three days.

“Mr. Stubbs,” he said to the monkey, in a solemn tone, “we’re goin’ to
run away in a day or two.”

Mr. Stubbs did not seem to be moved in the least at this very startling
piece of intelligence, but winked his bright eyes in unconcern; and
Toby, seeming to think that everything which he said had been understood
by the monkey, continued: “I’ve got a good deal of money now, an’ I
guess there’s enough for us to start out on. We’ll get away some night,
an’ stay in the woods till they get through hunting for us, an’ then
we’ll go back to Guilford an’ tell Uncle Dan’l if he’ll only take us
back we’ll never go to sleep in meetin’ any more, an’ we’ll be just as
good as we know how. Now let’s see how much money we’ve got.”

Toby drew from a pocket, which he had been at a great deal of trouble to
make in his shirt, a small bag of silver, and spread it upon the ground,
where he could count it at his leisure.

The glittering coin instantly attracted the monkey’s attention, and he
tried by every means to thrust his little black paw into the pile;
but Toby would allow nothing of that sort, and pushed him away quite
roughly. Then he grew excited, and danced and scolded around Toby’s
treasure until the boy had hard work to count it.

He did succeed, however, and as he carefully replaced it in the bag he
said to the monkey: “There’s seven dollars an’ thirty cents in that bag,
an’ every cent of it is mine. That ought to take care of us for a good
while, Mr. Stubbs; an’ by the time we get home we shall be rich men.”

The monkey showed his pleasure at this intelligence by putting his
hand inside Toby’s clothes to find the bag of treasure that he had seen
secreted there, and two or three times, to the great delight of both
himself and the boy, he drew forth the bag, which was immediately taken
away from him.

The shadows were beginning to lengthen in the woods, and, heeding this
warning of the coming night, Toby took the monkey on his arm and started
for home, or for the tent, which was the only place he could call home.

As he walked along he tried to talk to his pet in a serious manner, but
the monkey, remembering where he had seen the bright coins secreted,
tried so hard to get at them that finally Toby lost all patience and
gave him quite a hard cuff on the ear, which had the effect of keeping
him quiet for a time.

That night Toby took supper with the skeleton and his wife, and he
enjoyed the meal, even though it was made from what had been left of
the turkey that served as the noonday feast, more than he did the state
dinner, where he was obliged to pay for what he ate by the torture of
making a speech.

There were no guests but Toby present; and Mr. and Mrs. Treat were not
only very kind, but so attentive that he was actually afraid he should
eat so much as to stand in need of some of the catnip tea which Mrs.
Treat had said she gave to her husband when he had been equally foolish.
The skeleton would pile his plate high with turkey bones from one side,
and the fat lady would heap it up, whenever she could find a chance,
with all sorts of food from the other, until Toby pushed back his chair,
his appetite completely satisfied, if it never had been so before.

Toby had discussed the temper of his employer with his host and
hostess, and, after some considerable conversation, confided in them his
determination to run away.

“I’d hate awfully to have you go,” said Mrs. Treat, reflectively; “but
it’s a good deal better for you to get away from that Job Lord if you
can. It wouldn’t do to let him know that you had any idea of goin’, for
he’d watch you as a cat watches a mouse, an never let you go so long as
he saw a chance to keep you. I heard him tellin’ one of the drivers the
other day that you sold more goods than any other boy he ever had, an’
he was going to keep you with him all summer.”

“Be careful in what you do, my boy,” said the skeleton, sagely, as he
arranged a large cushion in an armchair, and proceeded to make ready for
his after dinner nap; “be sure that you’re all ready before you start,
an’, when you do go, get a good ways ahead of him; for if he should ever
catch you the trouncin’ you’d get would be awful.”

Toby assured his friends that he would use every endeavor to make his
escape successful when he did start; and Mrs. Treat, with an eye to the
boy’s comfort, said, “Let me know the night you’re goin’, an’ I’ll fix
you up something to eat, so’s you won’t be hungry before you come to a
place where you can buy something.”

As these kind hearted people talked with him, and were ready thus to aid
him in every way that lay in their power, Toby thought that he had been
very fortunate in thus having made so many kind friends in a place where
he was having so much trouble.

It was not until he heard the sounds of preparation for departure that
he left the skeleton’s tent, and then, with Mr. Stubbs clasped tightly
to his breast, he hurried over to the wagon where Old Ben was nearly
ready to start.

“All right, Toby,” said the old driver, as the boy came in sight. “I was
afraid you was goin’ to keep me waitin’ for the first time. Jump right
up on the box, for there hain’t no time to lose, an’ I guess you’ll have
to carry the monkey in your arms, for I don’t want to stop to open the
cage now.”

“I’d just as soon carry him, an’ a little rather,” said Toby, as he
clambered up on the high seat and arranged a comfortable place in his
lap for his pet to sit.

In another moment the heavy team had started, and nearly the entire
circus was on the move. “Now tell me what you’ve been doin’ since I left
you,” said Old Ben, after they were well clear of the town and he could
trust his horses to follow the team ahead. “I s’pose you’ve been to see
the skeleton an’ his mountain of a wife?”

Toby gave a clear account of where he had been and what he had done, and
when he concluded he told Old Ben of his determination to run away, and
asked his advice on the matter.

“My advice,” said Ben, after he had waited some time, to give due weight
to his words, “is that you clear out from this show just as soon as you
can. This hain’t no fit place for a boy of your age to be in, an’
the sooner you get back where you started from, an get to school, the
better. But Job Lord will do all he can to keep you from goin’, if he
thinks you have any idea of leavin’ him.”

Toby assured Ben, as he had assured the skeleton and his wife, that he
would be very careful in all he did, and lay his plans with the utmost
secrecy; and then he asked whether Ben thought the amount of money which
he had would be sufficient to carry him home.

“Waal, that depends,” said the driver, slowly. “If you go to spreadin’
yourself all over creation, as boys are very apt to do, your money won’t
go very far; but if you look at your money two or three times afore you
spend it, you ought to get back and have a dollar or two left.”

The two talked, and Old Ben offered advice, until Toby could hardly keep
his eyes open, and almost before the driver concluded his sage remarks
the boy had stretched himself on the top of the wagon, where he had
learned to sleep without being shaken off, and was soon in dreamland.

The monkey, nestled down snug in Toby’s bosom, did not appear to be as
sleepy as was his master, but popped his head in and out from under the
coat, as if watching whether the boy was asleep or not.

Toby was awakened by a scratching on his face, as if the monkey was
dancing a hornpipe on that portion of his body, and by a shrill, quick
chattering, which caused him to assume an upright position instantly.

He was frightened, although he knew not at what, and looked around
quickly to discover the cause of the monkey’s excitement.

Old Ben was asleep on his box, while the horses jogged along behind the
other teams, and Toby failed to see anything whatever which should have
caused his pet to become so excited.

“Lie down an’ behave yourself,” said Toby, as sternly as possible, and
as he spoke he took his pet by the collar, to oblige him to obey his
command.

The moment that he did this he saw the monkey throw something out
into the road, and the next instant he also saw that he held something
tightly clutched in his other paw.

It required some little exertion and active movement on Toby’s part to
enable him to get hold of that paw, in order to discover what it was
which Mr. Stubbs had captured; but the instant he did succeed, there
went up from his heart such a cry of sorrow as caused Old Ben to start
up in alarm and the monkey to cower and whimper like a whipped dog.

“What is it, Toby? What’s the matter?” asked the old driver, as
he peered out into the darkness ahead, as if he feared some danger
threatened them from that quarter. “I don’t see anything. What is it?”

“Mr. Stubbs has thrown all my money away,” cried Toby, holding up the
almost empty bag, which a short time previous had been so well filled
with silver.

“Stubbs--thrown--the--money--away?” repeated Ben, with a pause between
each word, as if he could not understand that which he himself was
saying.

“Yes,” sobbed Toby, as he shook out the remaining contents of the bag,
“there’s only half a dollar, an’ all the rest is gone.”

“The rest gone!” again repeated Ben. “But how come the monkey to have
the money?”

“He tried to get at it out in the woods, an’ I s’pose the moment I got
asleep he felt for it in my pockets. This is all there is left, an’ he
threw away some just as I woke up.”

Again Toby held the bag up where Ben could see it, and again his grief
broke out anew.

Ben could say nothing; he realized the whole situation--that the monkey
had got the moneybag while Toby was sleeping; that in his play he had
thrown it away piece by piece; and he knew that that small amount of
silver represented liberty in the boy’s eyes. He felt that there was
nothing he could say which would assuage Toby’s grief, and he remained
silent.

“Don’t you s’pose we could go back an’ get it?” asked the boy, after the
intensity of his grief had somewhat subsided.

“No, Toby, it’s gone,” replied Ben, sorrowfully. “You couldn’t find it
if it was daylight, an’ you don’t stand a ghost of a chance now in the
dark. Don’t take on so, my boy. I’ll see if we can’t make it up to you
in some way.”

Toby gave no heed to this last remark of Ben’s. He hugged the monkey
convulsively to his breast, as if he would seek consolation from the
very one who had wrought the ruin, and, rocking himself to and fro, he
said, in a voice full of tears and sorrow:

“Oh, Mr. Stubbs, why did you do it?--why did you do it? That money would
have got us away from this hateful place, an’ we’d have gone back to
Uncle Dan’l’s, where we’d have been so happy, you an’ me. An’ now it’s
all gone--all gone. What made you, Mr. Stubbs--what made you do such a
bad, cruel thing? Oh, what made you?”

“Don’t, Toby--don’t take on so,” said Ben, soothingly. “There wasn’t so
very much money there, after all, an’ you’ll soon get as much more.”

“But it won’t be for a good while, an’ we could have been in the good
old home long before I can get so much again.”

“That’s true, my boy; but you must kinder brace up an’ not give way so
about it. Perhaps I can fix it so the fellers will make it up to you.
Give Stubbs a good poundin’, an’ perhaps that ‘ll make you feel better.”

“That won’t bring back my money an’ I don’t want to whip him,” cried
Toby, hugging his pet the closer because of this suggestion. “I know
what it is to get a whippin’, an’ I wouldn’t whip a dog, much less Mr.
Stubbs, who didn’t know any better.”

“Then you must try to take it like a man,” said Ben, who could think
of no other plan by which the boy might soothe his feelings. “It hain’t
half so bad as it might be, an’ you must try to keep a stiff upper lip,
even if it does seem hard at first.”

This keeping a stiff upper lip in the face of all the trouble he was
having was all very well to talk about, but Toby could not reduce it to
practice, or, at least, not so soon after he knew of his loss, and he
continued to rock the monkey back and forth, to whisper in his ear now
and then, and to cry as if his heart was breaking, for nearly an hour.

Ben tried, in his rough, honest way, to comfort him, but without
success; and it was not until the boy’s grief had spent itself that he
would listen to any reasoning.

All this time the monkey had remained perfectly quiet, submitting to
Toby’s squeezing without making any effort to get away, and behaving as
if he knew he had done wrong, and was trying to atone for it. He
looked up into the boy’s face every now and then with such a penitent
expression that Toby finally assured him of forgiveness and begged him
not to feel so badly.



XIII. TOBY ATTEMPTS TO RESIGN HIS SITUATION


At last it was possible for Toby to speak of his loss with some degree
of calmness, and then he immediately began to reckon up what he could
have done with the money if he had not lost it.

“Now see here, Toby,” said Ben, earnestly, “don’t go to doin’ anything
of that kind. The money’s lost, an’ you can’t get it back by talkin’; so
the very best thing for you is to stop thinkin’ what you could do if you
had it, an’ just to look at it as a goner.”

“But--” persisted Toby.

“I tell you there’s no buts about it,” said Ben, rather sharply. “Stop
talkin’ about what’s gone, an’ just go to thinkin’ how you’ll get more.
Do what you’ve a mind to the monkey, but don’t keep broodin’ over what
you can’t help.”

Toby knew that the advice was good and he struggled manfully to carry it
into execution, but it was very hard work. At all events, there was no
sleep for his eyes that night; and when, just about daylight, the train
halted to wait a more seasonable hour in which to enter the town, the
thought of what he might have done with his lost money was still in
Toby’s mind.

Only once did he speak crossly to the monkey, and that was when he put
him into the cage preparatory to commencing his morning’s work. Then he
said:

“You wouldn’t had to go into this place many times more if you hadn’t
been so wicked, for by tomorrow night we’d been away from this circus
an’ on the way to home an’ Uncle Dan’l. Now you’ve spoiled my chance
an’ your own for a good while to come, an’ I hope before the day is over
you’ll feel as bad about it as I do.”

It seemed to Toby as if the monkey understood just what he said to him,
for he sneaked over into one corner, away from the other monkeys, and
sat there looking very penitent and very dejected.

Then, with a heavy heart, Toby began his day’s work.

Hard as had been Toby’s lot previous to losing his money, and difficult
as it had been to bear the cruelty of Mr. Job Lord and his precious
partner, Mr. Jacobs, it was doubly hard now while this sorrow was fresh
upon him.

Previous to this, when he had been kicked or cursed by one or the other
of the partners, Toby thought exultantly that the time was not very far
distant when he should be beyond the reach of his brutal taskmasters,
and that thought had given him strength to bear all that had been put
upon him.

Now the time of his deliverance from this bondage seemed very far off,
and each cruel word or blow caused him the greater sorrow, because of
the thought that but for the monkey’s wickedness he would have been
nearly free from that which made his life so very miserable.

If he had looked sad and mournful before, he looked doubly so now, as he
went his dreary round of the tent, crying, “Here’s your cold lemonade,”
 or “Fresh baked peanuts, ten cents a quart”; and each day there were
some in the audience who pitied the boy because of the misery which
showed so plainly in his face, and they gave him a few cents more than
his price for what he was selling, or gave him money without buying
anything at all, thereby aiding him to lay up something again toward
making his escape.

Those few belonging to the circus who knew of Toby’s intention to escape
tried their best to console him for the loss of his money, and that kind
hearted couple, the skeleton and his fat wife, tried to force him to
take a portion of their scanty earnings in the place of that which the
monkey had thrown away. But this Toby positively refused to do; and to
the arguments which they advanced as reasons why they should help him
along he only replied that until he could get the money by his own
exertions he would remain with Messrs. Lord and Jacobs and get along as
best he could.

Every hour in the day the thought of what might have been if he had not
lost his money so haunted his mind that finally he resolved to make one
bold stroke and tell Mr. Job Lord that he did not want to travel with
the circus any longer.

As yet he had not received the two dollars which had been promised him
for his two weeks’ work, and another one was nearly due. If he could get
this money it might, with what he had saved again, suffice to pay his
railroad fare to Guilford; and if it would not, he resolved to accept
from the skeleton sufficient to make up the amount needed.

He naturally shrank from the task; but the hope that he might possibly
succeed gave him the necessary amount of courage, and when he had gotten
his work done, on the third morning after he had lost his money, and Mr.
Lord appeared to be in an unusually good temper, he resolved to try the
plan.

It was just before the dinner hour. Trade had been exceptionally good,
and Mr. Lord had even spoken in a pleasant tone to Toby when he told him
to fill up the lemonade pail with water, so that the stock might not be
disposed of too quickly and with too little profit.

Toby poured in quite as much water as he thought the already weak
mixture could receive and retain any flavor of lemon; and then, as his
employer motioned him to add more, he mixed another quart in, secretly
wondering what it would taste like.

“When you’re mixin’ lemonade for circus trade,” said Mr. Lord, in such a
benign, fatherly tone that one would have found it difficult to believe
that he ever spoke harshly, “don’t be afraid of water, for there’s where
the profit comes in. Always have a piece of lemon peel floatin’ on the
top of every glass, an’ it tastes just as good to people as if it cost
twice as much.”

Toby could not agree exactly with that opinion, neither did he think
it wise to disagree, more especially since he was going to ask the very
great favor of being discharged; therefore he nodded his head gravely,
and began to stir up what it pleased Mr. Lord to call lemonade, so that
the last addition might be more thoroughly mixed with the others.

Two or three times he attempted to ask the favor which seemed such a
great one, and each time the words stuck in his throat, until it seemed
to him that he should never succeed in getting them out.

Finally, in his despair, he stammered out: “Don’t you think you could
find another boy in this town, Mr. Lord?”

Mr. Lord moved round sideways, in order to bring his crooked eye to bear
squarely on Toby, and then there was a long interval of silence, during
which time the boy’s color rapidly came and went and his heart beat very
fast with suspense and fear.

“Well, what if I could?” he said, at length. “Do you think that trade
is so good I could afford to keep two boys, when there isn’t half work
enough for one?”

Toby stirred the lemonade with renewed activity, as if by this process
he was making both it and his courage stronger, and said, in a low
voice, which Mr. Lord could scarcely hear:

“I didn’t think that; but you see I ought to go home, for Uncle Dan’l
will worry about me; an’, besides, I don’t like a circus very well.”

Again there was silence on Mr. Lord’s part, and again the crooked eye
glowered down on Toby.

“So,” he said--and Toby could see that his anger was rising very
fast--“you don’t like a circus very well, an’ you begin to think
that your uncle Daniel will worry about you, eh? Well, I want you to
understand that it don’t make any difference to me whether you like a
circus or not, and I don’t care how much your uncle Daniel worries.
You mean that you want to get away from me, after I’ve been to all the
trouble and expense of teaching you the business?”

Toby bent his head over the pail and stirred away as if for dear life.

“If you think you’re going to get away from here until you’ve paid me
for all you’ve eat, an’ all the time I’ve spent on you, you’re mistaken,
that’s all. You’ve had an easy time with me--too easy, in fact--and
that’s what ails you. Now you just let me hear two words more out of
your head about going away--only two more--an’ I’ll show you what a
whipping is. I’ve only been playing with you before when you thought you
were getting a whipping; but you’ll find out what it means if I so much
as see a thought in your eyes about goin’ away. An’ don’t you dare to
try to give me the slip in the night an run away; for if you do I’ll
follow you an’ have you arrested. Now you mind your eye in the future.”

It is impossible to say how much longer Mr. Lord might have continued
this tirade had not a member of the company--one of the principal
riders--called him to one side to speak with him.

Poor Toby was so much confused by the angry words which had followed his
very natural and certainly very reasonable suggestion that he paid no
attention to anything around him until he heard his own name mentioned;
and then, fearing lest some new misfortune was about to befall him, he
listened intently.

“I’m afraid you couldn’t do much of anything with him,” he heard Mr.
Lord say. “He’s had enough of this kind of life already, so he says, an’
I expect the next thing he does will be to try and run away.”

“I’ll risk his getting away from you, Job,” he heard the other say; “but
of course I’ve got to take my chances. I’ll take him in hand from eleven
to twelve each day--just your slack time of trade--and I’ll not only
give you half of what he can earn in the next two years, but I’ll pay
you for his time, if he gives you the slip before the season is out.”

Toby knew that they were speaking of him, but what it all meant he could
not imagine.

“What are you going to do with him first?” Job asked.

“Just put him right in the ring and teach him what riding is. I tell
you, Job, the boy’s smart enough, and before the season’s over I’ll have
him so that he can do some of the bareback acts, and perhaps we’ll get
some money out of him before we go into winter quarters.”

Toby understood the meaning of their conversation only too well, and he
knew that his lot, which before seemed harder than he could bear,
was about to be intensified through this Mr. Castle, of whom he had
frequently heard, and who was said to be a rival of Mr. Lord’s so far as
brutality went. The two men now walked toward the large tent, and Toby
was left alone with his thoughts and two or three little boy customers,
who looked at him wonderingly and envied him because he belonged to the
circus.

During the ride that night he told Old Ben what he had heard,
confidently expecting that that friend at least would console him; but
Ben was not the champion which he had expected. The old man, who had
been with a circus, “man and boy, nigh to forty years,” did not seem to
think it any calamity that he was to be taught to ride.

“That Mr. Castle is a little rough on boys,” Old Ben said, thoughtfully;
“but it’ll be a good thing for you, Toby. Just so long as you stay with
Job you won’t be nothin’ more ‘n a candy boy; but after you know how to
ride it ‘ll be another thing, an’ you can earn a good deal of money an’
be your own boss.”

“But I don’t want to stay with the circus,” whined Toby; “I don’t want
to learn to ride, an’ I do want to get back to Uncle Dan’l.”

“That may all be true, an’ I don’t dispute it,” said Ben; “but you see
you didn’t stay with your uncle Daniel when you had the chance, an’ you
did come with the circus. You’ve told Job you wanted to leave, an’ he
‘ll be watchin’ you all the time to see that you don’t give him the
slip. Now what’s the consequence? Why, you can’t get away for a while,
anyhow, an’ you’d better try to amount to something while you are here.
Perhaps after you’ve got so you can ride you may want to stay; an’ I’ll
see to it that you get all of your wages, except enough to pay Castle
for learnin’ of you.”

“I sha’n’t want to stay,” said Toby. “I wouldn’t stay if I could ride
all the horses at once an’ was gettin’ a hundred dollars a day.”

“But you can’t ride one horse, an’ you hain’t gettin’ but a dollar a
week, an’ still I don’t see any chance of your gettin’ away yet awhile,”
 said Ben, in a matter of fact tone, as he devoted his attention again
to his horses, leaving Toby to his own sad reflections and the positive
conviction that boys who run away from home do not have a good time,
except in stories.

The next forenoon, while Toby was deep in the excitement of selling to
a boy no larger than himself, and with just as red hair, three cents’
worth of peanuts and two sticks of candy, and while the boy was trying
to induce him to “throw in” a piece of gum, because of the quantity
purchased, Job Lord called him aside, and Toby knew that his troubles
had begun.

“I want you to go in an’ see Mr. Castle; he’s goin’ to show you how to
ride,” said Mr. Lord, in as kindly a tone as if he were conferring some
favor on the boy.

If Toby had dared to, he would have rebelled then and there and refused
to go; but, as he hadn’t the courage for such proceeding, he walked
meekly into the tent and toward the ring.



XIV. MR. CASTLE TEACHES TOBY TO RIDE


When Toby got within sight of the ring he was astonished at what he saw.
A horse, with a broad wooden saddle, was being led slowly around the
ring; Mr. Castle was standing on one side, with a long whip in his hand;
and on the tent pole, which stood in the center of the ring, was a long
arm, from which dangled a leathern belt attached to a long rope that was
carried through the end of the arm and run down to the base of the pole.

Toby knew well enough why the horse, the whip, and the man were there,
but the wooden projection from the tent pole, which looked so much like
a gallows, he could not understand at all.

“Come, now,” said Mr. Castle, cracking his whip ominously as Toby came
in sight, “why weren’t you here before?”

“Mr. Lord just sent me in,” said Toby, not expecting that his excuse
would be received, for they never had been since he had arrived at the
height of his ambition by joining the circus.

“Then I’ll make Mr. Job understand that I am to have my full hour of
your time; and if I don’t get it there ‘ll be trouble between us.”

It would have pleased Toby very well to have had Mr. Castle go out with
his long whip just then and make trouble for Mr. Lord; but Mr. Castle
had not the time to spare, because of the trouble which he was about to
make for Toby, and that he commenced on at once.

“Well, get in here and don’t waste any more time,” he said, sharply.

Toby looked around curiously for a moment, and, not understanding
exactly what he was expected to get in and do, asked, “What shall I do?”

“Pull off your boots, coat, and vest.”

Since there was no other course than to learn to ride, Toby wisely
concluded that the best thing he could do would be to obey his new
master without question; so he began to take off his clothes with as
much alacrity as if learning to ride was the one thing upon which he had
long set his heart.

Mr. Castle was evidently accustomed to prompt obedience, for he not only
took it as a matter of course, but endeavored to hurry Toby in the work
of undressing.

With his desire to please, and urged by Mr. Castle’s words and the
ominous shaking of his whip, Toby’s preparations were soon made, and
he stood before his instructor clad only in his shirt, trousers, and
stockings.

The horse was led around to where he stood, and when Mr. Castle held
out his hand to help him to mount Toby jumped up quickly without aid,
thereby making a good impression at the start as a willing lad.

“Now,” said the instructor, as he pulled down the leathern belt which
hung from the rope and fastened it around Toby’s waist, “stand up in
the saddle, and try to keep there. You can’t fall, because the rope will
hold you up, even if the horse goes out from under you; but it isn’t
hard work to keep on if you mind what you are about; and if you don’t
this whip will help you. Now stand up.”

Toby did as he was bid; and as the horse was led at a walk, and as
he had the long bridle to aid him in keeping his footing, he had no
difficulty in standing during the time that the horse went once around
the ring; but that was all.

Mr. Castle seemed to think that this was preparation enough for the boy
to be able to understand how to ride, and he started the horse into a
canter. As might have been expected, Toby lost his balance, the horse
went on ahead, and he was left dangling at the end of the rope, very
much like a crab that has just been caught by the means of a pole and
line.

Toby kicked, waved his hands, and floundered about generally, but all to
no purpose, until the horse came round again, and then he made frantic
efforts to regain his footing, which efforts were aided--or perhaps it
would be more proper to say retarded--by the long lash of Mr. Castle’s
whip, that played around his legs with merciless severity.

“Stand up! stand up!” cried his instructor, as Toby reeled first to one
side and then to the other, now standing erect in the saddle and now
dangling at the end of the rope, with the horse almost out from under
him.

This command seemed needless, as it was exactly what Toby was trying to
do; but as it was given he struggled all the harder, until it seemed to
him that the more he tried the less did he succeed.

And this first lesson progressed in about the same way until the hour
was over, save that now and then Mr. Castle would give him some good
advice, but oftener he would twist the long lash of the whip around the
boy’s legs with such force that Toby believed the skin had been taken
entirely off.

It may have been a relief to Mr. Castle when this first lesson was
concluded, and it certainly was to Toby, for he had had all the teaching
in horsemanship that he wanted, and he thought, with deepest sorrow,
that this would be of daily occurrence during all the time that he
remained with the circus.

As he went out of the tent he stopped to speak with his friend the old
monkey, and his troubles seemed to have increased when he stood in front
of the cage calling, “Mr. Stubbs! Mr. Stubbs!” and the old fellow would
not even come down from off the lofty perch where he was engaged in
monkey gymnastics with several younger companions. It seemed to him, as
he afterward told Ben, “as if Mr. Stubbs had gone back on him because he
knew that he was in trouble.”

When he went toward the booth Mr. Lord looked at him around the corner
of the canvas--for it seemed to Toby that his employer could look
around a square corner with much greater ease than he could straight
ahead--with a disagreeable leer in his eye, as though he enjoyed the
misery which he knew his little clerk had just undergone.

“Can you ride yet?” he asked, mockingly, as Toby stepped behind the
counter to attend to his regular line of business.

Toby made no reply, for he knew that the question was only asked
sarcastically and not through any desire for information. In a few
moments Mr. Lord left him to attend to the booth alone and went into the
tent, where Toby rightly conjectured he had gone to question Mr. Castle
upon the result of the lesson just given.

That night Old Ben asked him how he had got on while under the teaching
of Mr. Castle; and Toby, knowing that the question was asked because of
the real interest which Ben had in his welfare, replied:

“If I was tryin’ to learn how to swing round the ring, strapped to a
rope, I should say that I got along first rate; but I don’t know much
about the horse, for I was only on his back a little while at a time.”

“You’ll get over that soon,” said Old Ben, patronizingly, as he patted
him on the back. “You remember my words, now: I say that you’ve got it
in you, an’ if you’ve a mind to take hold an’ try to learn you’ll
come out on the top of the heap yet, an’ be one of the smartest riders
they’ve got in this show.”

“I don’t want to be a rider,” said Toby, sadly; “I only want to get back
home once more, an’ then you’ll see how much it ‘ll take to get me away
again.”

“Well,” said Ben, quietly, “be that as it may, while you’re here the
best thing you can do is to take hold an’ get ahead just as fast as you
can; it ‘ll make it a mighty sight easier for you while you’re with the
show, an’ it won’t spoil any of your chances for runnin’ away whenever
the time comes.”

Toby fully appreciated the truth of this remark, and he assured Ben that
he should do all in his power to profit by the instruction given, and to
please this new master who had been placed over him.

And with this promise he lay back on the seat and went to sleep, not to
awaken until the preparations were being made for the entree into the
next town, and Mr. Lord’s harsh voice had cried out his name, with no
gentle tone, several times.

Toby’s first lesson with Mr. Castle was the most pleasant one he had;
for after the boy had once been into the ring his master seemed to
expect that he could do everything which he was told to do, and when
he failed in any little particular the long lash of the whip would go
curling around his legs or arms, until the little fellow’s body and
limbs were nearly covered with the blue and black stripes.

For three lessons only was the wooden upright used to keep him from
falling; after that he was forced to ride standing erect on the broad
wooden saddle, or pad, as it is properly called; and whenever he lost
his balance and fell there was no question asked as to whether or not he
had hurt himself, but he was mercilessly cut with the whip.

Messrs. Lord and Jacobs gained very much by comparison with Mr. Castle
in Toby’s mind. He had thought that his lot could not be harder than it
was with them; but when he had experienced the pains of two or three of
Mr. Castle’s lessons in horsemanship he thought that he would stay with
the candy venders all the season cheerfully rather than take six more
lessons of Mr. Castle.

Night after night he fell asleep from the sheer exhaustion of crying, as
he had been pouring out his woes in the old monkey’s ears and laying his
plans to run away. Now more than ever was he anxious to get away,
and yet each day was taking him farther from home and consequently
necessitating a larger amount of money with which to start. As Old Ben
did not give him as much sympathy as Toby thought he ought to give--for
the old man, while he would not allow Mr. Job Lord to strike the boy
if he was near, thought it a necessary portion of the education for Mr.
Castle to lash him all he had a mind to--he poured out all his troubles
in the old monkey’s ears, and kept him with him from the time he ceased
work at night until he was obliged to commence again in the morning.

The skeleton and his wife thought Toby’s lot a hard one, and tried by
every means in their power to cheer the poor boy. Neither one of them
could say to Mr. Castle what they had said to Mr. Lord, for the rider
was a far different sort of a person and one whom they would not be
allowed to interfere with in any way. Therefore poor Toby was obliged
to bear his troubles and his whippings as best he might, with only the
thought to cheer him of the time when he could leave them all by running
away.

But, despite all his troubles, Toby learned to ride faster than his
teacher had expected he would, and in three weeks he found little or no
difficulty in standing erect while his horse went around the ring at
his fastest gait. After that had been accomplished his progress was more
rapid, and he gave promise of be--coming a very good rider--a fact which
pleased both Mr. Castle and Mr. Lord very much, as they fancied that in
another year Toby would be the source of a very good income to them.

The proprietor of the circus took considerable interest in Toby’s
instruction, and promised Mr. Castle that Mademoiselle Jeannette and
Toby should do an act together in the performance just as soon as the
latter was sufficiently advanced. The boy’s costume had been changed
after he could ride without falling off, and now while he was in the
ring he wore the same as that used by the regular performers.

The little girl had, after it was announced that she and Toby were to
perform together, been an attentive observer during the hour that Toby
was under Mr. Castle’s direction, and she gave him many suggestions that
were far more valuable, and quicker to be acted upon, than those given
by the teacher himself.

“Tomorrow you two will go through the exercise together,” said Mr.
Castle to Toby and Ella, at the close of one of Toby’s lessons, after
he had become so skillful that he could stand with ease on the pad, and
even advanced so far that he could jump through a hoop without falling
more than twice out of three times.

The little girl appeared highly delighted by this information, and
expressed her joy.

“It will be real nice,” she said to Toby, after Mr. Castle had left them
alone. “I can help you lots, and it won’t be very long before we can do
an act all by ourselves in the performance, and then won’t the people
clap their hands when we come in!”

“It ‘ll be better for you tomorrow than it will for me,” said Toby,
rubbing his legs sorrowfully, still feeling the sting of the whip. “You
see, Mr. Castle won’t dare to whip you, an’ he ‘ll make it all count on
me, ‘cause he knows Mr. Lord likes to have him whip me.”

“But I sha’n’t make any mistake,” said Ella, confidently, “and so you
won’t have to be whipped on my account; and while I am on the horse you
can’t be whipped, for he couldn’t do it without whipping me, so you see
you won’t get only half as much.”

Toby brightened up a little under the influence of this argument; but
his countenance fell again as he thought that his chances for getting
away from the circus were growing less each day.

“You see I want to get back to Uncle Dan’l an’ Guilford,” he said,
confidentially; “I don’t want to stay here a single minute.”

Ella opened her eyes in wide astonishment as she cried: “Don’t want to
stay here? Why don’t you go home, then?”

“‘Cause Job Lord won’t let me,” said Toby, wondering if it was possible
that his little companion did not know exactly what sort of a man his
master was.

Then he told her--after making her give him all kinds of promises,
including the ceremony of crossing her throat, that she would never tell
a single soul--that he had had many thoughts, and had formed all kinds
of plans for running away. He told her about losing his money, about his
friendship for the skeleton and the fat lady, and at last he confided in
her that he was intending to take the old monkey with him when he should
make the attempt.

She listened with the closest attention, and when he told her that
his little hoard had now reached the sum of seven dollars and ten
cents--almost as much as he had before--she said, eagerly: “I’ve got
three little gold dollars in my trunk, an’ you shall have them all;
they’re my very own, for mamma gave them to me to do just what I wanted
to with them. But I don’t see how you can take Mr. Stubbs with you, for
that would be stealing.”

“No, it wouldn’t, neither,” said Toby, stoutly. “Wasn’t he give to me to
do just as I wanted to with? An’ didn’t the boss say he was all mine?”

“Oh, I’d forgotten that,” said Ella, thoughtfully. “I suppose you can
take him; but he’ll be awfully in the way, won’t he?”

“No,” said Toby, anxious to say a good word for his pet; “he always does
just what I want him to, an’ when I tell him what I’m tryin’ to do he’ll
be as good as anything. But I can’t take your dollars.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause that wouldn’t be right for a boy to let a girl littler than
himself help him: I’ll wait till I get money enough of my own, an’ then
I’ll go.”

“But I want you to take my money, too; I want you to have it.”

“No, I can’t take it,” said Toby, shaking his head resolutely as he put
the golden temptation from him; and then, as a happy thought occurred
to him, he said, quickly: “I tell you what to do with your dollars: you
keep them till you grow up to be a woman, an’ when I’m a man I’ll come,
an’ then we’ll buy a circus of our own. I think perhaps I’d like to be
with a circus if I owned one myself. We’ll have lots of money then, an’
can do just what we want to.”

This idea seemed to please the little girl, and the two began to lay
all sorts of plans for that time when they should be man and woman, have
lots of money, and be able to do just what they wanted to.

They had been sitting on the edge of the newly made ring while they were
talking, and before they had half finished making plans for the future
one of the attendants came in to put things to order, and they were
obliged to leave their seats, she going to the hotel to get ready for
the afternoon’s performance, and Toby to try to do such work as Mr. Job
had laid out for him.

Just ten weeks from the time Toby had first joined the circus Mr.
Castle informed him and Ella that they were to appear in public on the
following day. They had been practicing daily, and Toby had become so
skillful that both Mr. Castle and Mr. Lord saw that the time had come
when he could be made to earn some money for them.



XV. TOBY’S FRIENDS PRESENT HIM WITH A COSTUME


During this time Toby’s funds had accumulated rather slower than on the
first few days he was in the business, but he had saved eleven dollars,
and Mr. Lord had paid him five dollars of his salary, so that he had
the to him enormous sum of sixteen dollars; and he had about made up his
mind to make one effort for liberty when the news came that he was to
ride in public.

He had, in fact, been ready to run away any time within the past week;
but, as if they had divined his intentions, both Mr. Castle and Mr. Lord
had kept a very strict watch over him, one or the other keeping him in
sight from the time he got through with his labors at night until they
saw him on the cart with Old Ben.

“I was just gettin’ ready to run away,” said Toby to Ella on the day Mr.
Castle gave his decision as to their taking part in the performance, and
while they were walking out of the tent, “an’ I shouldn’t wonder now if
I got away tonight.”

“Oh, Toby!” exclaimed the girl, as she looked reproachfully at him,
“after all the work we’ve had to get ready, you won’t go off and leave
me before we’ve had a chance to see what the folks will say when they
see us together?”

It was impossible for Toby to feel any delight at the idea of riding in
public, and he would have been willing to have taken one of Mr. Lord’s
most severe whippings if he could have escaped from it; but he and
Ella had become such firm friends, and he had conceived such a boyish
admiration for her, that he felt as if he were willing to bear almost
anything for the sake of giving her pleasure. Therefore he said, after
a few moments’ reflection: “Well, I won’t go tonight, anyway, even if I
have the best chance that ever was. I’ll stay one day more, anyhow, an’
perhaps I’ll have to stay a good many.”

“That’s a nice boy,” said Ella, positively, as Toby thus gave his
decision, “and I’ll kiss you for it.”

Before Toby fully realized what she was about, almost before he had
understood what she said, she had put her arms around his neck and given
him a good sound kiss right on his freckled face.

Toby was surprised, astonished, and just a little bit ashamed. He had
never been kissed by a girl before--very seldom by anyone, save the fat
lady--and he hardly knew what to do or say. He blushed until his face
was almost as red as his hair, and this color had the effect of making
his freckles stand out with startling distinctness. Then he looked
carefully around to see if anyone had seen them.

“I never had a girl kiss me before,” said Toby, hesitatingly, “an’
you see it made me feel kinder queer to have you do it out here, where
everybody could see.”

“Well, I kissed you because I like you very much and because you are
going to stay and ride with me tomorrow,” she said, positively; and then
she added, slyly, “I may kiss you again, if you don’t get a chance to
run away very soon.”

“I wish it wasn’t for Uncle Dan’l an’ the rest of the folks at home, an’
there wasn’t any such men as Mr. Lord an’ Mr. Castle, an’ then I don’t
know but I might want to stay with the circus, ‘cause I like you awful
much.”

And as he spoke Toby’s heart grew very tender toward the only girl
friend he had ever known.

By this time they had reached the door of the tent, and as they stepped
outside one of the drivers told them that Mr. Treat and his wife were
very anxious to see both of them in their tent.

“I don’t believe I can go,” said Toby, doubtfully, as he glanced toward
the booth, where Mr. Lord was busy in attending to customers, and
evidently waiting for Toby to relieve him, so that he could go to his
dinner; “I don’t believe Mr. Lord will let me.”

“Go and ask him,” said Ella, eagerly. “We won’t be gone but a minute.”

Toby approached his employer with fear and trembling. He had never
before asked leave to be away from his work, even for a moment, and he
had no doubt but that his request would be refused with blows.

“Mr. Treat wants me to come in his tent for a minute. Can I go?” he
asked, in a timid voice, and in such a low tone as to render it almost
inaudible.

Mr. Lord looked at him for an instant, and Toby was sure that he was
making up his mind whether to kick him or catch him by the collar and
use the rubber cane on him. But he had no such intention, evidently, for
he said, in a voice unusually mild, “Yes, an’ you needn’t come to work
again until it’s time to go into the tent.”

Toby was almost alarmed at this unusual kindness, and it puzzled him so
much that he would have forgotten he had permission to go away if Ella
had not pulled him gently by the coat.

If he had heard a conversation between Mr. Lord and Mr. Castle that
very morning he would have understood why it was that Mr. Lord had so
suddenly become kind. Mr. Castle had told Job that the boy had really
shown himself to be a good rider, and that in order to make him more
contented with his lot, and to keep him from running away, he must
be used more kindly, and perhaps be taken from the candy business
altogether, which latter advice Mr. Lord did not look upon with favor,
because of the large sales which the boy made.

When they reached the skeleton’s tent they found, to their surprise,
that no exhibition was being given at that hour, and Ella said, with
some concern: “How queer it is that the doors are not open! I do hope
that they are not sick.”

Toby felt a strange sinking at his heart as the possibility suggested
itself that one or both of his kind friends might be ill; for they had
both been so kind and attentive to him that he had learned to love them
very dearly.

But the fears of both the children were dispelled when they tried to get
in at the door and were met with the smiling skeleton himself, who said,
as he threw the canvas aside as far as if he were admitting his own
enormous Lilly:

“Come in, my friends, come in. I have had the exhibition closed for
one hour, in order that I might show my appreciation of my friend Mr.
Tyler.”

Toby looked around in some alarm, fearing that Mr. Treat’s friendship
was about to be displayed in one of his state dinners, which he had
learned to fear rather than enjoy. But as he saw no preparations for
dinner he breathed more freely and wondered what all this ceremony could
possibly mean.

Neither he nor Ella was long left in doubt, for as soon as they had
entered, Mrs. Treat waddled from behind the screen which served them
as a dressing room, with a bundle in her arms, which she handed to her
husband.

He took it and, quickly mounting the platform, leaving Ella and Toby
below, he commenced to speak, with very many flourishes of his thin
arms.

“My friends,” he began, as he looked down upon his audience of three,
who were listening in the following attitudes: Ella and Toby were
standing upon the ground at the foot of the platform, looking up with
wide open, staring eyes; and his fleshy wife was seated on a bench which
had evidently been placed in such a position below the speaker’s stand
that she could hear and see all that was going on without the fatigue of
standing up, which, for one of her size, was really very hard work--“My
friends,” repeated the skeleton, as he held his bundle in front of him
with one hand and gesticulated with the other, “we all of us know that
tomorrow our esteemed and worthy friend Mr. Toby Tyler makes his first
appearance in any ring, and we all of us believe that he will soon
become a bright and shining light in the profession which he is so soon
to enter.”

The speaker was here interrupted by loud applause from his wife, and he
profited by the opportunity to wipe a stray drop of perspiration
from his fleshless face. Then, as the fat lady ceased the exertion of
clapping her hands, he continued:

“Knowing that our friend Mr. Tyler was being instructed, preparatory to
dazzling the public with his talents, my wife and I began to prepare for
him some slight testimonial of our esteem; and, being informed by
Mr. Castle some days ago of the day on which he was to make his first
appearance before the public, we were enabled to complete our little
gift in time for the great and important event.”

Here the skeleton paused to take a breath, and Toby began to grow more
uncomfortably red in the face. Such praise made him feel very awkward.

“I hold in this bundle,” continued Mr. Treat as he waved the package on
high, “a costume for our bold and worthy equestrian, and a sash to match
for his beautiful and accomplished companion. In presenting these little
tokens my wife (who has embroidered every inch of the velvet herself)
and I feel proud to know that, when the great and auspicious occasion
occurs tomorrow, the worthy Mr. Tyler will step into the ring in a
costume which we have prepared expressly for him; and thus, when he
does himself honor by his performance and earns the applause of the
multitude, he will be doing honor and doing applause for the work of our
hands--my wife Lilly and myself. Take them, my boy; and when you
array yourself in them tomorrow you will remember that the only living
skeleton, and the wonder of the nineteenth century in the shape of the
mammoth lady, are present in their works if not in their persons.”

As he finished speaking Mr. Treat handed the bundle to Toby, and then
joined in the applause which was being given by Mrs. Treat and Ella.

Toby unrolled the package, and found that it contained a circus rider’s
costume of pink tights and blue velvet trunks, collar and cuffs,
embroidered in white and plentifully spangled with silver. In addition
was a wide blue sash for Ella, embroidered to correspond with Toby’s
costume.

The little fellow was both delighted with the gift and at a loss to know
what to say in response. He looked at the costume over and over again,
and the tears of gratitude that these friends should have been so good
to him came into his eyes. He saw, however, that they were expecting him
to say something in reply, and, laying the gift on the platform, he said
to the skeleton and his wife:

“You’ve been so good to me ever since I’ve been with the circus that I
wish I was big enough to say somethin’ more than that I’m much obliged,
but I can’t. One of these days, when I’m a man, I’ll show you how much
I like you, an’ then you won’t be sorry that you was good to such a poor
little runaway boy as I am.”

Here the skeleton broke in with such loud applause and so many cries of
“Hear! hear!” that Toby grew still more confused, and forgot entirely
what he was intending to say next.

“I want you to know how much obliged I am,” he said, after much
hesitation, “an’ when I wear ‘em I’ll ride just the best I know how,
even if I don’t want to, an’ you sha’n’t be sorry that you gave them to
me.”

As Toby concluded he made a funny little awkward bow, and then seemed
to be trying to hide himself behind a chair from the applause which was
given so generously.

“Bless your dear little heart!” said the fat lady, after the confusion
had somewhat subsided. “I know you will do your best, anyway, and
I’m glad to know that you’re going to make your first appearance in
something that Samuel and I made for you.”

Ella was quite as well pleased with her sash as Toby was with his
costume, and thanked Mr. and Mrs. Treat in a pretty little way that made
Toby wish he could say anything half so nicely.

The hour which the skeleton had devoted for the purpose of the
presentation and accompanying speeches having elapsed, it was necessary
that Ella and Toby should go and that the doors of the exhibition be
opened at once, in order to give any of the public an opportunity of
seeing what the placards announced as two of the greatest curiosities on
the face of the globe.

That day, while Toby performed his arduous labors, his heart was very
light, for the evidences which the skeleton and his wife had given of
their regard for him were very gratifying. He determined that he would
do his very best to please so long as he was with the circus, and then,
when he got a chance to run away, he would do so, but not until he
had said goodby to Mr. and Mrs. Treat and thanked them again for their
interest in him.

When he had finished his work in the tent that night Mr. Lord said to
him, as he patted him on the back in the most fatherly fashion, and as
if he had never spoken a harsh word to him, “You can’t come in here to
sell candy now that you are one of the performers, my boy; an’ if I
can find another boy tomorrow you won’t have to work in the booth any
longer, an’ your salary of a dollar a week will go on just the same,
even if you don’t have anything to do but to ride.”

This was a bit of news that was as welcome to Toby as it was unexpected,
and he felt more happy then than he had for the ten weeks that he had
been traveling under Mr. Lord’s cruel mastership.

But there was one thing that night that rather damped his joy, and that
was that he noticed that Mr. Lord was unusually careful to watch him,
not even allowing him to go outside the tent without following. He
saw at once that, if he was to have a more easy time, his chances
for running away were greatly diminished, and no number of beautiful
costumes would have made him content to stay with the circus one moment
longer than was absolutely necessary.

That night he told Old Ben the events of the day, and expressed the
hope that he might acquit himself creditably when he made his first
appearance on the following day.

Ben sat thoughtfully for some time, and then, making all the
preparations which Toby knew so well signified a long bit of advice, he
said: “Toby, my boy, I’ve been with a circus, man an’ boy, nigh to forty
years, an’ I’ve seen lots of youngsters start in just as you re goin’ to
start in tomorrow; but the most of them petered out, because they got to
knowin’ more ‘n them that learned ‘em did. Now, you remember what I say,
an’ you’ll find it good advice: whatever business you get into, don’t
think you know all about it before you’ve begun. Remember that you can
always learn somethin’, no matter how old you are, an’ keep your eyes
an’ ears open, an’ your tongue between your teeth, an’ you’ll amount to
somethin’, or my name hain’t Ben.”



XVI. TOBY’S FIRST APPEARANCE IN THE RING


When the circus entered the town which had been selected as the place
where Toby was to make his debut as a circus rider the boy noticed a new
poster among the many glaring and gaudy bills which set forth the varied
and numerous attractions that were to be found under one canvas for a
trifling admission fee, and he noticed it with some degree of interest,
not thinking for a moment that it had any reference to him.

It was printed very much as follows:

MADEMOISELLE JEANNETTE AND MONSIEUR AJAX,

two of the youngest equestrians in the world, will perform their
graceful, dashing, and daring act entitled

THE TRIUMPH OF THE INNOCENTS!

This is the first appearance of these daring young riders together since
their separation in Europe last season, and their performance in this
town will have a new and novel interest.

See MADEMOISELLE JEANNETTE AND MONSIEUR AJAX

“Look there!” said Toby to Ben, as he pointed out the poster, which was
printed in very large letters, with gorgeous coloring, and surmounted
by a picture of two very small people performing all kinds of impossible
feats on horseback. “They’ve got someone else to ride with Ella today. I
wonder who it can be?”

Ben looked at Toby for a moment, as if to assure himself that the boy
was in earnest in asking the question, and then he relapsed into the
worst fit of silent laughing that Toby had ever seen. After he had quite
recovered he asked: “Don’t you know who Monsieur Ajax is? Hain’t you
never seen him?”

“No,” replied Toby, at a loss to understand what there was so very funny
in his very natural question. “I thought that I was goin’ to ride with
Ella.”

“Why, that’s you!” almost screamed Ben, in delight. “Monsieur Ajax means
you--didn’t you know it? You don’t suppose they would go to put ‘Toby
Tyler’ on the bills, do you? How it would look!--‘Mademoiselle Jeannette
an’ Monsieur Toby Tyler’!”

Ben was off in one of his laughing spells again; and Toby sat there,
stiff and straight, hardly knowing whether to join in the mirth or to
get angry at the sport which had been made of his name.

“I don’t care,” he said, at length. “I’m sure I think Toby Tyler sounds
just as well as Monsieur Ajax, an’ I’m sure it fits me a good deal
better.”

“That may be,” said Ben, soothingly; “but you see it wouldn’t go down so
well with the public. They want furrin riders, an’ they must have ‘em,
even if it does spoil your name.”

Despite the fact that he did not like the new name that had been given
him, Toby could not but feel pleased at the glowing terms in which his
performance was set off; but he did not at all relish the lie that was
told about his having been with Ella in Europe, and he would have been
very much better pleased if that portion of it had been left off.

During the forenoon he did not go near Mr. Lord nor his candy stand, for
Mr. Castle kept him and Ella busily engaged in practicing the feat which
they were to perform in the afternoon, and it was almost time for
the performance to begin before they were allowed even to go to their
dinner.

Ella, who had performed several years, was very much more excited over
the coming debut than Toby was, and the reason why he did not show more
interest was, probably, because of his great desire to leave the circus
as soon as possible, and during that forenoon he thought very much more
of how he should get back to Guilford and Uncle Daniel than he did of
how he should get along when he stood before the audience.

Mr. Castle assisted his pupil to dress, and when that was done to his
entire satisfaction he said, in a stern voice, “Now you can do this act
all right, and if you slip up on it and don’t do it as you ought to,
I’ll give you such a whipping when you come out of the ring that you’ll
think Job was only fooling with you when he tried to whip you.”

Toby had been feeling reasonably cheerful before this, but these
words dispelled all his cheerful thoughts, and he was looking more
disconsolate when Old Ben came into the dressing tent.

“All ready are you, my boy?” said the old man, in his cheeriest voice.
“Well, that’s good, an’ you look as nice as possible. Now remember what
I told you last night, Toby, an’ go in there to do your level best an’
make a name for yourself. Come out here with me and wait for the young
lady.”

These cheering words of Ben’s did Toby as much good as Mr. Castle’s had
the reverse, and as he stepped out of the dressing room to the place
where the horses were being saddled Toby resolved that he would do his
very best that afternoon, if for no other reason than to please his old
friend.

Toby was not naturally what might be called a pretty boy, for his short
red hair and his freckled face prevented any great display of beauty;
but he was a good, honest looking boy, and in his tasteful costume
looked very nice indeed--so nice that, could Mrs. Treat have seen him
just then, she would have been very proud of her handiwork and hugged
him harder than ever.

He had been waiting but a few moments when Ella came from her dressing
room, and Toby was much pleased when he saw by the expression of her
face that she was perfectly satisfied with his appearance.

“We’ll both do just as well as we can,” she whispered to him, “and I
know the people will like us and make us come back after we get through.
And if they do mamma says she’ll give each one of us a gold dollar.”

She had taken hold of Toby’s hand as she spoke, and her manner was so
earnest and anxious that Toby was more excited than he ever had been
about his debut; and, had he gone into the ring just at that moment, the
chances are that he would have surprised even his teacher by his riding.

“I’ll do just as well as I can,” said Toby, in reply to his little
companion, “an’ if we earn the dollars I’ll have a hole bored in mine,
an’ you shall wear it around your neck to remember me by.”

“I’ll remember you without that,” she whispered; “and I’ll give you
mine, so that you shall have so much the more when you go to your home.”

There was no time for further conversation, for Mr. Castle entered just
then to tell them that they must go in in another moment. The horses
were all ready--a black one for Toby, and a white one for Ella--and they
stood champing their bits and pawing the earth in their impatience until
the silver bells with which they were decorated rang out quick, nervous
little chimes that accorded very well with Toby’s feelings.

Ella squeezed Toby’s hand as they stood waiting for the curtain to be
raised that they might enter, and he had just time to return it when
the signal was given, and almost before he was aware of it they were
standing in the ring, kissing their hands to the crowds that packed the
enormous tent to its utmost capacity.

Thanks to the false announcement about the separation of the children in
Europe and their reunion in this particular town, the applause was long
and loud, and before it had died away Toby had time to recover a little
from the queer feeling which this sea of heads gave him.

He had never seen such a crowd before, except as he had seen them as he
walked around at the foot of the seats, and then they had simply looked
like so many human beings; but as he saw them now from the ring they
appeared like strange rows of heads without bodies, and he had hard work
to keep from running back behind the curtain whence he had come.

Mr. Castle acted as the ringmaster this time, and after he had
introduced them--very much after the fashion of the posters--and the
clown had repeated some funny joke, the horses were led in and they were
assisted to mount.

“Don’t mind the people at all,” said Mr. Castle, in a low voice, “but
ride just as if you were alone here with me.”

The music struck up, the horses cantered around the ring, and Toby had
really started as a circus rider.

“Remember,” said Ella to him, in a low tone, just as the horses started,
“you told me that you would ride just as well as you could, and we must
earn the dollars mamma promised.”

It seemed to Toby at first as if he could not stand up, but by the time
they had ridden around the ring once, and Ella had again cautioned him
against making any mistake, for the sake of the money which they were
going to earn, he was calm and collected enough to carry out his part of
the “act” as well as if he had been simply taking a lesson.

The act consisted in their riding side by side, jumping over banners and
through hoops covered with paper, and then the most difficult portion
began.

The saddles, were taken off the horses, and they were to ride first on
one horse and then on the other, until they concluded their performance
by riding twice around the ring side by side, standing on their horses,
each one with a hand on the other’s shoulder.

All this was successfully accomplished without a single error, and when
they rode out of the ring the applause was so great as to leave no doubt
but that they would be recalled and thus earn the promised money.

In fact, they had hardly got inside the curtain when one of the
attendants called to them, and before they had time even to speak to
each other they were in the ring again, repeating the last portion of
their act.

When they came out of the ring for the second time they found Old Ben,
the skeleton, the fat lady, and Mr. Job Lord waiting to welcome them;
but before anyone could say a word Ella had stood on tiptoe again and
given Toby just such another kiss as she did when he told her that he
would surely stay long enough to appear in the ring with her once.

“That’s because you rode so well and helped me so much,” she said, as
she saw Toby’s cheeks growing a fiery red; and then she turned to those
who were waiting to greet her.

Mrs. Treat took her in her enormous arms, and, having kissed her, put
her down quickly, and clasped Toby as if he had been a very small walnut
and her arms a very large pair of nutcrackers.

“Bless the boy!” she exclaimed, as she kissed him again and again with
an energy and force that made her kisses sound like the crack of the
whip and caused the horses to stamp in affright. “I knew he’d amount
to something one of these days, an’ Samuel an’ I had to come out, when
business was dull, just to see how he got along.”

It was some time before she would unloose him from her motherly embrace,
and when she did the skeleton grasped him by the hand and said, in the
most pompous and affected manner:

“Mr. Tyler, we’re proud of you, and when we saw that costume of yours,
that my Lilly embroidered with her own hands, we was both proud of it
and what it contained. You’re a great rider, my boy, a great rider, and
you ‘ll stand at the head of the profession some day, if you only stick
to it.”

“Thank you, sir,” was all Toby had time to say before Old Ben had him by
the hand, and the skeleton was pouring out his congratulations in little
Miss Ella’s ear.

“Toby, my boy, you did well, an’ now you’ll amount to something, if you
only remember what I told you last night,” said Ben, as he looked upon
the boy whom he had come to think of as his protege, with pride. “I
never seen anybody of your age do any better; an’ now, instead of bein’
only a candy peddler, you’re one of the stars of the show.”

“Thank you, Ben,” was all that Toby could say, for he knew that his old
friend meant every word that he said, and it pleased him so much that he
could say no more than “Thank you” in reply.

“I feel as if your triumph was mine,” said Mr. Lord, looking benignly
at Toby from out his crooked eye, and assuming the most fatherly tone at
his command; “I have learned to look upon you almost as my own son, and
your success is very gratifying to me.”

Toby was not at all flattered by this last praise. If he had never seen
Mr. Lord before, he might, and probably would, have been deceived by
his words; but he had seen him too often, and under too many painful
circumstances, to be at all swindled by his words.

Toby was very much pleased with his success and by the praise he
received from all, and when the proprietor of the circus came along,
patted him on the head, and told him that he rode very nicely, he was
quite happy, until he chanced to see the greedy twinkle in Mr. Lord’s
eye, and then he knew that all this success and all this praise were
only binding him faster to the show which he was so anxious to escape
from; his pleasure vanished very quickly, and in its stead came a
bitter, homesick feeling which no amount of praise could banish.

It was Old Ben who helped him to undress after the skeleton and the
fat lady had gone to their tent and Ella had gone to dress for her
appearance with her mother, for now she was obliged to ride twice at
each performance. When Toby was in ordinary clothes again Ben said:

“Now that you’re one of the performers, Toby, you won’t have to sell
candy any more, an’ you’ll have the most of your time to yourself, so
let’s you an’ I go out an’ see the town.”

“Don’t you s’pose Mr. Lord expects me to go to work for him again
today?”

“An’ s’posin’ he does?” said Ben, with a chuckle. “You don’t s’pose the
boss would let any one that rides in the ring stand behind Job Lord’s
counter, do you? You can do just as you have a mind to, my boy, an’ I
say to you, let’s go out an’ see the town. What do you say to it?”

“I’d like to go first rate, if I dared to,” replied Toby, thinking of
the many whippings he had received for far less than that which Ben now
proposed he should do.

“Oh, I’ll take care that Job don’t bother you, so come along”; and
Ben started out of the tent, and Toby followed, feeling considerably
frightened at this first act of disobedience against his old master.



XVII. OFF FOR HOME!


During this walk Toby learned many things that were of importance to
him, so far as his plan for running away was concerned. In the first
place, he gleaned from the railway posters that were stuck up in the
hotel to which they went that he could buy a ticket for Guilford for
seven dollars, and also that, by going back to the town from which they
had come, he could go to Guilford by steamer for five dollars.

By returning to this last town--and Toby calculated that the fare on
the stage back there could not be more than a dollar--he would have ten
dollars left, and that surely ought to be sufficient to buy food enough
for two days for the most hungry boy that ever lived.

When they returned to the circus grounds the performance was over, and
Mr. Lord in the midst of the brisk trade which he usually had after
the afternoon performance, and yet, so far from scolding Toby for going
away, he actually smiled and bowed at him as he saw him go by with Ben.

“See there, Toby,” said the old driver to the boy, as he gave him a
vigorous poke in the ribs and then went off into one of his dreadful
laughing spells--“see what it is to be a performer an’ not workin’ for
such an old fossil as Job is! He’ll be so sweet to you now that sugar
won’t melt in his mouth, an’ there’s no chance of his ever attemptin’ to
whip you again.”

Toby made no reply, for he was too busily engaged thinking of something
which had just come into his mind to know that his friend had spoken.

But as Old Ben hardly knew whether the boy had answered him or not,
owing to his being obliged to struggle with his breath lest he should
lose it in the second laughing spell that attacked him, the boy’s
thoughtfulness was not particularly noticed.

Toby walked around the show grounds for a little while with his old
friend, and then the two went to supper, where Toby performed quite as
great wonders in the way of eating as he had in the afternoon by riding.

As soon as the supper was over he quietly slipped away from Old Ben, and
at once paid a visit to Mr. and Mrs. Treat, whom he found cozily engaged
in their supper behind the screen.

They welcomed Toby most cordially, and, despite his assertions that he
had just finished a very hearty meal, the fat lady made him sit down to
the box which served as table, and insisted on his trying some of her
doughnuts.

Under all these pressing attentions it was some time before Toby found
a chance to say that which he had come to say, and when he did he was
almost at a loss how to proceed; but at last he commenced by starting
abruptly on his subject with the words, “I’ve made up my mind to leave
tonight.”

“Leave tonight?” repeated the skeleton, inquiringly, not for a moment
believing that Toby could think of running away after the brilliant
success he had just made. “What do you mean, Toby?”

“Why, you know that I’ve been wantin’ to get away from the circus,”
 said Toby, a little impatient that his friend should be so wonderfully
stupid, “an’ I think that I’ll have as good a chance now as ever I
shall, so I’m goin’ to try it.”

“Bless us!” exclaimed the fat lady, in a gasping way. “You don’t mean
to say that you’re goin’ off just when you’ve started in the business
so well? I thought you’d want to stay after you’d been so well received
this afternoon.”

“No,” said Toby--and one quick little sob popped right up from his heart
and out before he was aware of it--“I learned to ride because I had to,
but I never give up runnin’ away. I must see Uncle Dan’l, an’ tell him
how sorry I am for what I did; an’ if he won’t have anything to say to
me I’ll come back; but if he’ll let me I’ll stay there, an’ I’ll be so
good that by ‘n’ by he’ll forget that I run off an’ left him without
sayin’ a word.”

There was such a touch of sorrow in his tones, so much pathos in his
way of speaking, that good Mrs. Treat’s heart was touched at once; and
putting her arms around the little fellow, as if to shield him from some
harm, she said, tenderly: “And so you shall go, Toby, my boy; but if
you ever want a home or anybody to love you come right here to us, and
you’ll never be sorry. So long as Sam keeps thin and I fat enough to
draw the public you never need say that you’re homeless, for nothing
would please us better than to have you come to live with us.”

For reply Toby raised his head and kissed her on the cheek, a proceeding
which caused her to squeeze him harder than ever.

During this conversation the skeleton had remained very thoughtful.
After a moment or two he got up from his seat, went outside the tent,
and presently returned with a quantity of silver ten cent pieces in his
hand.

“Here, Toby,” he said--and it was to be seen that he was really too
much affected even to attempt one of his speeches--“it’s right that you
should go, for I’ve known what it is to feel just as you do. What Lilly
said about your having a home with us I say, an’ here’s five dollars
that I want you to take to help you along.”

At first Toby stoutly refused to take the money; but they both insisted
to such a degree that he was actually forced to, and then he stood up to
go.

“I’m goin’ to try to slip off after Job packs up the outside booth, if I
can,” he said, “an’ it was to say goodby that I come around here.”

Again Mrs. Treat took the boy in her arms, as if it were one of her own
children who was leaving her, and as she stroked his hair back from his
forehead she said: “Don’t forget us, Toby, even if you never do see us
again; try an’ remember how much we cared for you, an’ how much comfort
you’re taking away from us when you go; for it was a comfort to see you
around, even if you wasn’t with us very much. Don’t forget us, Toby, an’
if you ever get the chance, come an’ see us. Goodby, Toby, goodby.” And
the kind hearted woman kissed him again and again, and then turned her
back resolutely upon him, lest it should be bad luck to him if she again
saw him after saying goodby.

The skeleton’s parting was not quite so demonstrative. He clasped Toby’s
hand with one set of his fleshless fingers, while with the other he
wiped one or two suspicious looking drops of moisture from his eyes as
he said: “I hope you’ll get along all right, my boy, and I believe you
will. You will get home to Uncle Daniel and be happier than ever, for
now you know what it is to be entirely without a home. Be a good boy,
mind your uncle, go to school, and one of these days you’ll make a good
man. Goodby, my boy.”

The tears were now streaming down Toby’s face very rapidly; he had
not known, in his anxiety to get home, how very much he cared for this
strangely assorted couple, and now it made him feel very miserable and
wretched that he was going to leave them. He tried to say something
more, but the tears choked his utterance and he left the tent quickly to
prevent himself from breaking down entirely.

In order that his grief might not be noticed and the cause of it
suspected, Toby went out behind the tent, and, sitting there on a stone,
he gave way to the tears which he could no longer control.

While he was thus engaged, heeding nothing which passed around him, he
was startled by a cheery voice which cried: “Halloo! down in the dumps
again? What is the matter now, my bold equestrian?”

Looking up, he saw Ben standing before him, and he wiped his eyes
hastily, for here was another from whom he must part and to whom a
goodby must be spoken.

Looking around to make sure that no one was within hearing, he went
up very close to the old driver and said, in almost a whisper: “I was
feelin’ bad ‘cause I just come from Mr. and Mrs. Treat, an’ I’ve been
sayin’ goodby to them. I’m goin’ to run away tonight.”

Ben looked at him for a moment, as if he doubted whether the boy knew
exactly what he was talking about, and then said, “So you still want to
go home, do you?”

“Oh yes, Ben, so much,” was the reply, in a tone which expressed how
dear to him was the thought of being in his old home once more.

“All right, my boy; I won’t say one word ag’in’ it, though it do seem
too bad, after you’ve turned out to be such a good rider,” said the old
man, thoughtfully. “It’s better for you, I know; for a circus hain’t no
place for a boy, even if he wants to stay, an’ I can’t say but I’m glad
you’re still determined to go.”

Toby felt relieved at the tone of this leave taking. He had feared that
Old Ben, who thought a circus rider was almost on the topmost round of
fortune’s ladder, would have urged him to stay, since he had made his
debut in the ring, and he was almost afraid that he might take some
steps to prevent his going.

“I wanted to say goodby now,” said Toby, in a choking voice, “‘cause
perhaps I sha’n’t see you again.

“Goodby, my boy,” said Ben as he took the boy’s hand in his. “Don’t
forget this experience you’ve had in runnin’ away; an if ever the time
comes that you feel as if you wanted to know that you had a friend,
think of Old Ben, an’ remember that his heart beats just as warm for you
as if he was your father. Goodby, my boy, goodby, an’ may the good God
bless you!”

“Goodby, Ben,” said Toby; and then, as the old driver turned and walked
away, wiping something from his eye with the cuff of his sleeve, Toby
gave full vent to his tears and wondered why it was that he was such a
miserable little wretch.

There was one more goodby to be said, and that Toby dreaded more than
all the others. It was to Ella. He knew that she would feel badly to
have him go, because she liked to ride the act with him that gave them
such applause, and he felt certain that she would urge him to stay.

Just then the thought of another of his friends--one who had not yet
been warned of what very important matter was to occur--came to his
mind, and he hastened toward the old monkey’s cage. His pet was busily
engaged in playing with some of the younger members of his family, and
for some moments could not be induced to come to the bars of the cage.

At last, however, Toby did succeed in coaxing him forward, and then,
taking him by the paw and drawing him as near as possible, Toby
whispered, “We’re goin’ to run away tonight, Mr. Stubbs, an’ I want you
to be all ready to go the minute I come for you.”

The old monkey winked both eyes violently, and then showed his teeth to
such an extent that Toby thought he was laughing at the prospect, and
he said, a little severely, “If you had as many friends as I have got
in the circus you wouldn’t laugh when you was goin’ to leave them. Of
course I’ve got to go, an’ I want to go; but it makes me feel bad to
leave the skeleton, an’ the fat woman, an Old Ben, an’ little Ella. But
I mustn’t stand here. You be ready when I come for you, an’ by mornin’
we’ll be so far off that Mr. Lord nor Mr. Castle can’t catch us.”

The old monkey went toward his companions, as if he were in high glee at
the trip before him, and Toby went into the dressing tent to prepare for
the evening’s performance--which was about to commence.

It appeared to the boy as if everyone was unusually kind to him
that night, and, feeling sad at leaving those in the circus who had
befriended him, Toby was unusually attentive to everyone around him. He
ran on some trifling errand for one, helped another in his dressing,
and in a dozen kind ways seemed as if trying to atone for leaving them
secretly.

When the time came for him to go into the ring and he met Ella, bright
and happy at the thought of riding with him and repeating her triumphs
of the afternoon, nothing save the thought of how wicked he had been to
run away from good old Uncle Daniel, and a desire to right that wrong in
some way, prevented him from giving up his plan of going back.

The little girl observed his sadness, and she whispered, “Has anyone
been whipping you, Toby?”

Toby shook his head. He had thought that he would tell her what he was
about to do just before they went into the ring, but her kind words
seemed to make that impossible, and he had said nothing when the blare
of the trumpets, the noisy demonstrations of the audience, and the
announcement of the clown that the wonderful children riders were now
about to appear, ushered them into the ring.

If Toby had performed well in the afternoon, he accomplished wonders
on this evening, and they were called back into the ring, not once, but
twice; and when finally they were allowed to retire everyone behind the
curtain overwhelmed them with praise.

Ella was so profuse with her kind words, her admiration for what Toby
had done, and so delighted at the idea that they were to ride together,
that even then the boy could not tell her what he was going to do, but
went into his dressing room, resolving that he would tell her all when
they both had finished dressing.

Toby made as small a parcel as possible of the costume which Mr. and
Mrs. Treat had given him--for he determined that he would take it with
him--and, putting it under his coat, went out to wait for Ella. As she
did not come out as soon as he expected, he asked someone to tell her
that he wanted to see her, and he thought to himself that when she did
come she would be in a hurry and could not stop long enough to make any
very lengthy objections to his leaving.

But she did not come at all--her mother sent out word that Toby could
not see her until after the performance was over, owing to the fact
that it was now nearly time for her to go into the ring, and she was not
dressed yet.

Toby was terribly disappointed. He knew that it would not be safe for
him to wait until the close of the performance if he were intending to
run away that night, and he felt that he could not go until he had said
a few last words to her.

He was in a great perplexity, until the thought came to him that he
could write a goodby to her, and by this means any unpleasant discussion
would be avoided.

After some little difficulty he procured a small piece of not very clean
paper and a very short bit of lead pencil, and, using the top of one of
the wagons, as he sat on the seat, for a desk, he indited the following
epistle:

deaR ella I Am goin to Run away two night, & i want two say good by to
yu & your mother. i am Small & unkle Danil says i dont mount two much,
but i am old enuf two know that you have bin good two me, & when i Am
a man i will buy you a whole cirkus, and we Will ride together. dont
forgit me & i wont yu in haste

Toby Tyler.

Toby had no envelope in which to seal this precious letter, but he felt
that it would not be seen by prying eyes and would safely reach its
destination if he intrusted it to Old Ben.

It did not take him many moments to find the old driver, and he said, as
he handed him the letter, “I didn’t see Ella to tell her I was goin’, so
I wrote this letter, an’ I want to know if you will give it to her?”

“Of course I will. But see here, Toby”--and Ben caught him by the sleeve
and led him aside where he would not be overheard--“have you got enough
money to take you home? for if you haven’t I can let you have some.” And
Ben plunged his hand into his capacious pocket, as if he was about to
withdraw from there the entire United States Treasury.

Toby assured him that he had sufficient for all his wants; but the old
man would not be satisfied until he had seen for himself, and then,
taking Toby’s hand again, he said: “Now, my boy, it won’t do for you to
stay around here any longer. Buy something to eat before you start,
an’ go into the woods for a day or two before you take the train or
steamboat.

“You’re too big a prize for Job or Castle to let you go without a word,
an’ they’ll try their level best to find you. Be careful, now, for if
they should catch you, goodby any more chances to get away. There”--and
here Ben suddenly lifted him high from the ground and kissed him--“now
get away as fast as you can.”

Toby pressed the old man’s hand affectionately, and then, without
trusting himself to speak, walked swiftly out toward the entrance.

He resolved to take Ben’s advice and go into the woods for a short time,
and therefore he must buy some provisions before he started.

As he passed the monkeys’ cage he saw his pet sitting near the bars,
and he stopped long enough to whisper, “I’ll be back in ten minutes, Mr.
Stubbs, an’ you be all ready then.”

Then he went on, and just as he got near the entrance one of the men
told him that Mrs. Treat wished to see him.

Toby could hardly afford to spare the time just then, but he would
probably have obeyed the summons if he had known that by so doing he
would be caught, and he ran as fast as his little legs would carry him
toward the skeleton’s tent.

The exhibition was open, and both the skeleton, and his wife were on
the platform when Toby entered; but he crept around at the back and up
behind Mrs. Treat’s chair, telling her as he did so that he had just
received her message and that he must hurry right back, for every moment
was important then to him.

“I put up a nice lunch for you,” she said as she kissed him, “and you’ll
find it on the top of the biggest trunk. Now go; and if my wishes are of
any good to you, you will get to your uncle Daniel’s house without any
trouble. Goodby again, little one.”

Toby did not dare to trust himself any longer where everyone was so kind
to him. He slipped down from the platform as quickly as possible, found
the bundle--and a good sized one it was, too--without any difficulty,
and went back to the monkeys’ cage.

As orders had been given by the proprietor of the circus that the boy
should do as he had a mind to with the monkey, he called Mr. Stubbs; and
as he was in the custom of taking him with him at night, no one thought
that it was anything strange that he should take him from the cage now.

Mr. Lord or Mr. Castle might possibly have thought it queer had either
of them seen the two bundles which Toby carried, but, fortunately for
the boy’s scheme, they both believed that he was in the dressing tent,
and consequently thought that he was perfectly safe.

Toby’s hand shook so that he could hardly undo the fastening of the
cage, and when he attempted to call the monkey to him his voice sounded
so strange and husky that it startled him.

The old monkey seemed to prefer sleeping with Toby rather than with
those of his kind in the cage; and as the boy took him with him almost
every night, he came on this particular occasion as soon as Toby called,
regardless of the strange sound of his master’s voice.

With his bundles under his arm and the monkey on his shoulder, with both
paws tightly clasped around his neck, Toby made his way out of the tent
with beating heart and bated breath.

Neither Mr. Lord, Castle, nor Jacobs were in sight, and everything
seemed favorable for his flight. During the afternoon he had carefully
noted the direction of the woods, and he started swiftly toward them
now, stopping only long enough, as he was well clear of the tents, to
say, in a whisper:

“Goodby, Mr. Treat, an’ Mrs. Treat, an’ Ella, an’ Ben. Sometime, when
I’m a man, I’ll come back an’ bring you lots of nice things, an’ I’ll
never forget you--never. When I have a chance to be good to some little
boy that felt as bad as I did I’ll do it, an’ tell him that it was you
did it. Goodby.”

Then, turning around, he ran toward the woods as swiftly as if his
escape had been discovered and the entire company were in pursuit.



XVIII. A DAY OF FREEDOM


Toby ran at the top of his speed over the rough road; and the monkey,
jolted from one side to the other, clutched his paws more tightly around
the boy’s neck, looking around into his face as if to ask what was the
meaning of this very singular proceeding.

When he was so very nearly breathless as to be able to run no more, but
was forced to walk, Toby looked behind him, and there he could see the
bright lights of the circus and hear the strains of the music as he had
heard them on the night when he was getting ready to run away from
Uncle Daniel; and those very sounds, which reminded him forcibly of how
ungrateful he had been to the old man who had cared for him when there
was no one else in the world who would do so, made it more easy for him
to leave those behind who had been so kind to him when he stood so much
in need of kindness.

“We are goin’ home, Mr. Stubbs!” he said, exultantly, to the
monkey--“home to Uncle Dan’l an’ the boys; an’ won’t you have a good
time when we get there! You can run all over the barn, an’ up in the
trees, an’ do just what you want to, an’ there’ll be plenty of fellows
to play with you. You don’t know half how good a place Guilford is, Mr.
Stubbs.”

The monkey chattered away as if he were anticipating lots of fun on his
arrival at Toby’s home, and the boy chattered back, his spirits rising
at every step which took him farther away from the collection of tents
where he had spent so many wretched hours.

A brisk walk of half an hour sufficed to take Toby to the woods, and
after some little search he found a thick clump of bushes in which he
concluded he could sleep without the risk of being seen by anyone who
might pass that way before he should be awake in the morning.

He had not much choice in the way of a bed, for it was so dark in the
woods that it was impossible to collect moss or leaves to make a soft
resting place, and the few leaves and pine boughs which he did gather
made his place for sleeping but very little softer.

But during the ten weeks that Toby had been with the circus his bed had
seldom been anything softer than the seat of the wagon, and it troubled
him very little that he was to sleep with nothing but a few leaves
between himself and the earth.

Using the bundle in which was his riding costume for a pillow, and
placing the lunch Mrs. Treat had given him near by, where the monkey
could not get at it conveniently, he cuddled Mr. Stubbs up to his bosom
and lay down to sleep.

“Mr. Lord won’t wake us up in the mornin’ an’ swear at us for not
washin’ the tumblers,” said Toby, in a tone of satisfaction, to the
monkey; “an’ we won’t have to go into the tent tomorrow an’ sell sick
lemonade an’ poor peanuts. But”--and here his tone changed to one of
sorrow--“there’ll be some there that ‘ll be sorry not to see us in the
mornin’, Mr. Stubbs, though they’ll be glad to know that we got away all
right. But won’t Mr. Lord swear, an’ won’t Mr. Castle crack his whip,
when they come to look round for us in the mornin’ an’ find that we
hain’t there!”

The reply which the monkey made to this was to nestle his head closer
under Toby’s coat, and to show, in the most decided manner, that he was
ready to go to sleep.

And Toby was quite as ready to go to sleep as he was. He had worked
hard that day, but the excitement of escaping had prevented him from
realizing his fatigue until after he had lain down; and almost before he
had got through congratulating himself upon the ease with which he had
gotten free both he and the monkey were as sound asleep as if they had
been tucked up in the softest bed that was ever made.

Toby’s very weariness was a friend to him that night, for it prevented
him from waking; which, if he had done so, might have been unpleasant
when he fully realized that he was all alone in the forest, and the
sounds that are always heard in the woods might have frightened him just
the least bit.

The sun was shining directly in his face when Toby awoke on the
following morning, and the old monkey was still snugly nestled under his
coat. He sat up rather dazed at first, and then, as he fully realized
that he was actually free from all that had made his life such a sad and
hard one for so many weeks, he shouted aloud, reveling in his freedom.

The monkey, awakened by Toby’s cries, started from his sleep in affright
and jumped into the nearest tree, only to chatter, jump, and swing from
the boughs when he saw that there was nothing very unusual going on,
save that he and Toby were out in the woods again, where they could have
no end of a good time and do just as they liked.

After a few moments spent in a short jubilee at their escape Toby took
the monkey on his shoulder and the bundles under his arm again, and went
cautiously out to the edge of the thicket, where he could form some idea
as to whether or no they were pursued.

He had entered the woods at the brow of a small hill when he had fled
so hastily on the previous evening, and, looking down, he could see the
spot whereon the tents of the circus had been pitched, but not a sign
of them was now visible. He could see a number of people walking around,
and he fancied that they looked up every now and then to where he stood
concealed by the foliage.

This gave him no little uneasiness, for he feared that Mr. Lord or Mr.
Castle might be among the number, and he believed that they would begin
a search for him at once, and that the spot where their attention would
first be drawn was exactly where he was then standing.

“This won’t do, Mr. Stubbs,” he said, as he pushed the monkey higher
up on his shoulder and started into the thickest part of the woods; “we
must get out of this place an’ go farther down, where we can hide till
tomorrow mornin’. Besides, we must find some water where we can wash our
faces.”

The old monkey would hardly have been troubled if they had not got their
faces washed for the next month to come; but he grinned and talked as
Toby trudged along, attempting to catch hold of the leaves as they were
passed, and in various other ways impeding his master’s progress, until
Toby was obliged to give him a most severe scolding in order to make him
behave himself in anything like a decent manner.

At last, after fully half an hour’s rapid walking, Toby found just
the place he wanted in which to pass the time he concluded it would be
necessary to spend before he dare venture out to start for home.

It was a little valley entirely filled by trees, which grew so thickly,
save in one little spot, as to make it almost impossible to walk
through. The one clear spot was not more than ten feet square, but it
was just at the edge of a swiftly running brook; and a more beautiful
or convenient place for a boy and a monkey to stop who had no tent, nor
means to build one, could not well be imagined.

Toby’s first act was to wash his face, and he tried to make the monkey
do the same; but Mr. Stubbs had no idea of doing any such foolish thing.
He would come down close to the edge of the water and look in; but the
moment that Toby tried to make him go in he would rush back among the
trees, climb out on some slender bough, and then swing himself down by
the tail, and chatter away as if making sport of his young master for
thinking that he would be so foolish as to soil his face with water.

After Toby had made his toilet he unfastened the bundle which the fat
lady had given him, for the purpose of having breakfast. As much of an
eater as Toby was, he could not but be surprised at the quantity of food
which Mrs. Treat called a lunch. There were two whole pies and half of
another, as many as two dozen doughnuts, several large pieces of cheese,
six sandwiches, with a plentiful amount of meat, half a dozen biscuits,
nicely buttered, and a large piece of cake.

The monkey had come down from the tree as soon as he saw Toby untying
the bundle, and there was quite as much pleasure depicted on his face,
when he saw the good things that were spread out before him, as there
was on Toby’s; and he showed his thankfulness at Mrs. Treat’s foresight
by suddenly snatching one of the doughnuts and running with it up the
tree, where he knew Toby could not follow.

“Now look here, Mr. Stubbs!” said Toby, sternly, “you can have all you
want to eat, but you must take it in a decent way, an’ not go to cuttin’
up any such shines as that.”

And after giving this command--which, by the way, was obeyed just about
as well as it was understood--Toby devoted his time to his breakfast,
and he reduced the amount of eatables very considerably before he had
finished.

Toby cleared off his table by gathering the food together and putting it
back into the paper as well as possible, and then he sat down to think
over the situation and to decide what he had better do.

He felt rather nervous about venturing out when it was possible for Mr.
Lord or Mr. Castle to get hold of him again; and as the weather was
yet warm during the night, his camping place everything that could be
desired, and the stock of food likely to hold out, he concluded that
he had better remain there for two days at least, and then he would be
reasonably sure that if either of the men whom he so dreaded to see had
remained behind for the purpose of catching him, he would have got tired
out and gone on.

This point decided upon, the next was to try to fix up something soft
for a bed. He had his pocketknife with him, and in his little valley
were pine and hemlock trees in abundance. From the tips of their
branches he knew that he could make a bed as soft and fragrant as any
that could be thought of, and he set to work at once, while Mr. Stubbs
continued his antics above his head.

After about two hours’ steady work he had cut enough of the tender
branches to make himself a bed into which he and the monkey could burrow
and sleep as comfortably as if they were in the softest bed in Uncle
Daniel’s house.

When Toby first began to cut the boughs he had an idea that he might
possibly make some sort of a hut; but the two hours’ work had blistered
his hands, and he was perfectly ready to sit down and rest, without the
slightest desire for any other kind of a hut than that formed by the
trees themselves.

Toby imagined that in that beautiful place he could, with the monkey,
stay contented for any number of days; but after he had rested a time,
played with his pet a little, and eaten just a trifle more of the lunch,
the time passed so slowly that he soon made up his mind to run the risk
of meeting Mr. Lord or Mr. Castle again by going out of the woods the
first thing the next morning.

Very many times before the sun set that day was Toby tempted to run
the risk that night, for the sake of the change, if no more; but as he
thought the matter over he saw how dangerous such a course would be and
he forced himself to wait.

That night he did not sleep as soundly as on the previous one, for the
very good reason that he was not as tired. He awoke several times; and
the noise of the night birds alarmed him to such an extent that he was
obliged to awaken the old monkey for company.

But the night passed despite his fears, as all nights will, whether
a boy is out in the woods alone or tucked up in his own little bed at
home. In the morning Toby made all possible haste to get away, for each
moment that he stayed now made him more impatient to be moving toward
home.

He washed himself as quickly as possible, ate his breakfast with the
most unseemly haste, and, taking up his bundles and the monkey, once
more started, as he supposed, in the direction from which he had entered
the woods.

Toby walked briskly along, in the best possible spirits, for his running
away was now an accomplished fact, and he was going toward Uncle Daniel
and home just as fast as possible. He sang “Old Hundred” through five
or six times by way of showing his happiness. It is quite likely that
he would have sung something a little more lively had he known anything
else; but “Old Hundred” was the extent of his musical education, and he
kept repeating that, which was quite as satisfactory as if he had been
able to go through with every opera that was ever written.

The monkey would jump from his shoulder into the branches above, run
along on the trees for a short distance, and then wait until Toby came
along, when he would drop down on his shoulder suddenly, and in every
other way of displaying monkey delight he showed that he was just as
happy as it was possible.

Toby trudged on in this contented way for nearly an hour, and every
moment expected to step out to the edge of the woods, where he could see
houses and men once more. But instead of doing so the forest seemed
to grow more dense, and nothing betokened his approach to the village.
There was a great fear came into Toby’s heart just then, and for a
moment he halted in helpless perplexity. His lips began to quiver, his
face grew white, and his hand trembled so that the old monkey took hold
of one of his fingers and looked at it wonderingly.



XIX. MR STUBBS’S MISCHIEF, AND HIS SAD FATE


Toby had begun to realize that he was lost in the woods, and the thought
was sufficient to cause alarm in the mind of one much older than the
boy. He said to himself that he would keep on in the direction he was
then traveling for fifteen minutes; and as he had no means of computing
the time he sat down on a log, took out the bit of pencil with which he
had written the letter to Ella, and multiplied sixty by fifteen. He
knew that there were sixty seconds to the minute, and that he could
ordinarily count one to each second; therefore, when he learned that
there were nine hundred seconds in fifteen minutes he resolved to walk
as nearly straight ahead as possible until he should have counted that
number.

He walked on, counting as regularly as he could, and thought to himself
that he never before realized how long fifteen minutes were.

It really seemed to him that an hour had passed before he finished
counting, and then when he stopped there were no more signs that he was
near a clearing than there had been before he started.

“Ah, Mr. Stubbs, we’re lost! we’re lost!” he cried, as he laid his cheek
on the monkey’s head and gave way to the lonesome grief that came over
him. “What shall we do? Perhaps we won’t ever find our way out, but will
die here, an’ then Uncle Dan’l won’t ever know how sorry I was that I
ran away.”

Then Toby lay right down on the ground and cried so hard that the monkey
acted as if it were frightened, and tried to turn the boy’s face over,
and finally leaned down and licked Toby’s ear.

This little act, which seemed so much like a kiss, caused Toby to feel
no small amount of comfort, and he sat up again, took the monkey in his
arms, and began seriously to discuss some definite plan of action.

“It won’t do to keep on the way we’ve been goin’, Mr. Stubbs,” said
Toby, as he looked full in his pet’s face--and the old monkey sat
as still and looked as grave as it was possible for him to look and
sit--“for we must be going into the woods deeper. Let’s start off this
way”--and Toby pointed at right angles with the course they had been
pursuing--“an’ keep right on that way till we come to something, or till
we drop right down an’ die.”

It is fair to presume that the old monkey agreed to Toby’s plan; for
although he said nothing in favor of it, he certainly made no objections
to it, which to Toby was the same as if his companion had assented to it
in the plainest English.

Both the bundles and the monkey were rather a heavy load for a small boy
like Toby to carry; but he clung manfully to them, walked resolutely on,
without looking to the right or to the left, glad when the old monkey
would take a run among the trees, for then he would be relieved of his
weight, and glad when he returned, for then he had his company, and that
repaid him for any labor which he might have to perform.

Toby was in a hard plight as it was; but without the old monkey for a
companion he would have thought his condition was a hundred times worse,
and would hardly have had the courage to go on as he was going.

On and on he walked, until it seemed to him that he could really go no
farther, and yet he could see no signs which indicated the end of the
woods, and at last he sank upon the ground, too tired to walk another
step, saying to the monkey--who was looking as if he would like to know
the reason of this pause, “It’s no use, Mr. Stubbs, I’ve got to sit down
here an’ rest awhile anyhow; besides, I’m awfully hungry.”

Then Toby commenced to eat his dinner, and to give the monkey his, until
the thought came to him that he neither had any water nor did he know
where to find it, and then, of course, he immediately became so thirsty
that it was impossible for him to eat any more.

“We can’t stand this,” moaned Toby to the monkey; “we’ve got to have
something to drink, or else we can’t eat all these sweet things, an’ I’m
so tired that I can’t go any farther. Don’t let’s eat dinner now, but
let’s stay here an’ rest, an’ then we can keep on an’ look for water.”

Toby’s resting spell was a long one, for as soon as he stretched himself
out on the ground he was asleep from actual exhaustion, and did not
awaken until the sun was just setting, and then he saw that, hard as
his troubles had been before, they were about to become, or in fact had
become, worse.

He had paid no attention to his bundles when he lay down, and when he
awoke he was puzzled to make out what it was that was strewn around the
ground so thickly.

He had looked at it but a very short time when he saw that it was what
had been the lunch he had carried so far. After having had the sad
experience of losing his money he understood very readily that the old
monkey had taken the lunch while he slept, and had amused himself by
picking it apart into the smallest particles possible, and then strewn
them around on the ground where he now saw them.

Toby looked at them in almost speechless surprise, and then he turned to
where the old monkey lay, apparently asleep; but as the boy watched him
intently he could see that the cunning animal was really watching him
out of one half closed eye.

“Now you have killed us, Mr. Stubbs,” wailed Toby. “We never can find
our way out of here; an’ now we hain’t got anything to eat, and by
tomorrow we shall be starved to death. Oh dear! wasn’t you bad enough
when you threw all the money away, so you had to go an’ do this just
when we was in awful trouble?”

Mr. Stubbs now looked up as if he had just been awakened by Toby’s
grief, looked around him leisurely as if to see what could be the
matter, and then, apparently seeing for the first time the crumbs
that were lying around on the ground, took up some and examined them
intently.

“Now don’t go to makin’ believe that you don’t know how they come
there,” said Toby, showing anger toward his pet for the first time. “You
know it was you who did it, for there wasn’t anyone else here, an’ you
can’t fool me by lookin’ so surprised.”

It seemed as if the monkey had come to the conclusion that his little
plan of ignorance wasn’t the most perfect success, for he walked meekly
toward his young master, climbed up on his shoulder, and sat there
kissing his ear or looking down into his eyes, until the boy could
resist the mute appeal no longer, and took him into his arms and hugged
him closely as he said:

“It can’t be helped now, I s’pose, an’ we shall have to get along the
best way we can; but it was awful wicked of you, Mr. Stubbs, an I don’t
know what we’re goin’ to do for something to eat.”

While the destructive fit was on him the old monkey had not spared the
smallest bit’ of food, but had picked everything into such minute shreds
that none of it could be gathered up, and everything was surely wasted.

While Toby sat bemoaning his fate and trying to make out what was to
be done for food, the darkness, which had just begun to gather when he
first awoke, now commenced to settle around, and he was obliged to seek
for some convenient place in which to spend the night before it became
so dark as to make the search impossible.

Owing to the fact that he had slept nearly the entire afternoon, and
also rendered wakeful by the loss he had just sustained, Toby lay awake
on the hard ground, with the monkey on his arm, hour after hour, until
all kinds of fancies came to him, and in every sound feared he heard
someone from the circus coming to capture him, or some wild beast intent
on picking his bones.

The cold sweat of fear stood out on his brow, and he hardly dared to
breathe, much more to speak, lest the sound of his voice should betray
his whereabouts and thus bring his enemies down upon him. The minutes
seemed like hours, and the hours like days, as he lay there, listening
fearfully to every one of the night sounds of the forest; and it seemed
to him that he had been there very many hours when at last he fell
asleep and was thus freed from his fears.

Bright and early on the following morning Toby was awake, and as he came
to a realizing sense of all the dangers and trouble that surrounded him
he was disposed to give way again to his sorrow; but he said resolutely
to himself, “It might be a good deal worse than it is, an’ Mr. Stubbs
an’ I can get along one day without anything to eat; an’ perhaps by
night we shall be out of the woods, an’ then what we get will taste good
to us.”

He began his walk--which possibly might not end that day--manfully, and
his courage was rewarded by soon reaching a number of bushes that were
literally loaded down with blackberries. From these he made a hearty
meal, and the old monkey fairly reveled in them, for he ate all he
possibly could, and then stowed enough in his cheeks to make a good
sized luncheon when he should be hungry again.

Refreshed very much by his breakfast of fruit, Toby again started on his
journey with renewed vigor, and the world began to look very bright to
him. He had not thought that he might find berries when the thoughts of
starvation came into his mind, and, now that his hunger was satisfied,
he began to believe that he might possibly be able to live, perhaps for
weeks, in the woods solely upon what he might find growing there.

Shortly after he had breakfast he came upon a brook, which he thought
was the same upon whose banks he had encamped the first night he spent
in the woods, and, pulling off his clothes, he waded into the deepest
part and had a most refreshing bath, although the water was rather cold.

Not having any towels with which to dry himself, he was obliged to sit
in the sun until the moisture had been dried from his skin and he could
put his clothes on once more. Then he started out on his walk again,
feeling that sooner or later he would come out all right.

All this time he had been traveling without any guide to tell him
whether he was going straight ahead or around in a circle, and he now
concluded to follow the course of the brook, believing that that would
lead him out of the forest some time.

During the afternoon he walked steadily, but not so fast that he would
get exhausted quickly, and when by the position of the sun he judged
that it was noon he lay down on a mossy bank to rest.

He was beginning to feel sad again. He had found no more berries, and
the elation which had been caused by his breakfast and his bath was
quickly passing away. The old monkey was in a tree almost directly above
his head, stretched out on one of the limbs in the most contented manner
possible; and as Toby watched him, and thought of all the trouble he had
caused by wasting the food, thoughts of starvation again came into his
mind, and he believed that he should not live to see Uncle Daniel again.

Just as he was feeling the most sad and lonely, and where thoughts of
death from starvation were most vivid in his mind, he heard the barking
of a dog, which sounded close at hand.

His first thought was that at last he was saved, and he was just
starting to his feet to shout for help when he heard the sharp report of
a gun and an agonizing cry from the branches above, and the old monkey
fell to the ground with a thud that told he had received his death
wound.

All this had taken place so quickly that Toby did not at first
comprehend the extent of the misfortune which had overtaken him; but
a groan from the poor monkey, as he placed one little brown paw to his
breast, from which the blood was flowing freely, and looked up into his
master’s face with a most piteous expression, showed the poor little boy
what a great trouble it was which had now come.

Poor Toby uttered a loud cry of agony, which could not have been
more full of anguish had he received the ball in his own breast, and,
flinging himself by the side of the dying monkey, he gathered him
close to his breast, regardless of the blood that poured over him,
and, stroking tenderly the little head that had nestled so often in his
bosom, said, over and over again, as the monkey uttered short moans of
agony: “Who could have been so cruel? Who could have been so cruel?”

Toby’s tears ran like rain down his face, and he kissed his dying pet
again and again, as if he would take all the pain to himself.

“Oh, if you could only speak to me!” he cried, as he took one of the
poor monkey’s paws in his hand, and, finding that it was growing cold
with the chill of death, put it on his neck to warm it. “How I love you,
Mr. Stubbs! An’ now you’re goin’ to die an leave me! Oh, if I hadn’t
spoken cross to you yesterday, an’ if I hadn’t a’most choked you the day
that we went to the skeleton’s to dinner! Forgive me for ever bein’ bad
to you, won’t you, Mr. Stubbs?”

As the monkey’s groans increased in number, but diminished in force,
Toby ran to the brook, filled his hands with water, and held it to the
poor animal’s mouth.

He lapped the water quickly and looked up with a human look of gratitude
in his eyes, as if thanking his master for that much relief. Then Toby
tried to wash the blood from his breast; but it flowed quite as fast as
he could wash it away, and he ceased his efforts in that direction, and
paid every attention to making his friend and pet more comfortable.
He took off his jacket and laid it on the ground for the monkey to lie
upon; picked a quantity of large green leaves as a cooling rest for his
head, and then sat by his side, holding his paws and talking to him
with the most tender words his lips--quivering with sorrow as they
were--could fashion.



XX. HOME AND UNCLE DANIEL


Meanwhile the author of all this misery had come upon the scene. He was
a young man, whose rifle and well filled game bag showed that he had
been hunting, and his face expressed the liveliest sorrow for what he
had so unwittingly done.

“I didn’t know I was firing at your pet,” he said to Toby as he laid his
hand on his shoulder and endeavored to make him look up. “I only saw a
little patch of fur through the trees, and, thinking it was some wild
animal, I fired. Forgive me, won’t you, and let me put the poor brute
out of his misery?”

Toby looked up fiercely at the murderer of his pet and asked, savagely:
“Why don’t you go away? Don’t you see that you have killed Mr. Stubbs,
an’ you’ll be hung for murder?”

“I wouldn’t have done it under any circumstances,” said the young man,
pitying Toby’s grief most sincerely. “Come away and let me put the poor
thing out of its agony.”

“How can you do it?” asked Toby, bitterly. “He’s dying already.”

“I know it, and it will be a kindness to put a bullet through his head.”

If Toby had been big enough, perhaps there might really have been a
murder committed, for he looked up at the man who so coolly proposed to
kill the poor monkey after he had already received his death wound that
the young man stepped back quickly, as if really afraid that in his
desperation the boy might do him some injury.

“Go ‘way off,” said Toby, passionately, “an’ don’t ever come here again.
You’ve killed all I ever had in this world of my own to love me, an’ I
hate you--I hate you!”

Then, turning again to the monkey, he put his hands on each side of his
head, and, leaning down, kissed the little brown lips as tenderly as a
mother would kiss her child.

The monkey was growing more and more feeble, and when Toby had shown
this act of affection he reached up his tiny paws, grasped Toby’s
finger, half raised himself from the ground, and then with a convulsive
struggle fell back dead, while the tiny fingers slowly relaxed their
hold of the boy’s hand.

Toby feared that it was death, and yet hoped that he was mistaken; he
looked into the half open, fast glazing eyes, put his hand over his
heart, to learn if it were still beating; and, getting no responsive
look from the dead eyes, feeling no heart throbs from under that gory
breast, he knew that his pet was really dead, and flung himself by his
side in all the childish abandonment of grief.

He called the monkey by name, implored him to look at him, and finally
bewailed that he had ever left the circus, where at least his pet’s life
was safe, even if his own back received its daily flogging.

The young man, who stood a silent spectator of this painful scene,
understood everything from Toby’s mourning. He knew that a boy had run
away from the circus, for Messrs. Lord and Castle had stayed behind one
day, in the hope of capturing the fugitive, and they had told their own
version of Toby’s flight.

For nearly an hour Toby lay by the dead monkey’s side, crying as if his
heart would break, and the young man waited until his grief should have
somewhat exhausted itself, and then approached the boy again.

“Won’t you believe that I didn’t mean to do this cruel thing?” he asked,
in a kindly voice. “And won’t you believe that I would do anything in my
power to bring your pet back to life?”

Toby looked at him a moment earnestly, and then said, slowly, “Yes, I’ll
try to.”

“Now will you come with me, and let me talk to you? For I know who you
are, and why you are here.”

“How do you know that?”

“Two men stayed behind after the circus had left, and they hunted
everywhere for you.”

“I wish they had caught me,” moaned Toby; “I wish they had caught me,
for then Mr. Stubbs wouldn’t be here dead.”

And Toby’s grief broke out afresh as he again looked at the poor little
stiff form that had been a source of so much comfort and joy to him.

“Try not to think of that now, but think of yourself and of what you
will do,” said the man, soothingly, anxious to divert Toby’s mind from
the monkey’s death as much as possible.

“I don’t want to think of myself, and I don’t care what I’ll do,” sobbed
the boy, passionately.

“But you must; you can’t stay here always, and I will try to help you
to get home, or wherever it is you want to go, if you will tell me all
about it.”

It was some time before Toby could be persuaded to speak or think of
anything but the death of his pet; but the young man finally succeeded
in drawing his story from him, and then tried to induce him to leave
that place and accompany him to town.

“I can’t leave Mr. Stubbs,” said the boy, firmly; “he never left me the
night I got thrown out of the wagon an’ he thought I was hurt.”

Then came another struggle to induce him to bury his pet; and finally
Toby, after realizing the fact that he could not carry a dead monkey
with him, agreed to it; but he would not allow the young man to help him
in any way, or even to touch the monkey’s body.

He dug a grave under a little fir tree near by, and lined it with wild
flowers and leaves, and even then hesitated to cover the body with the
earth. At last he bethought himself of the fanciful costume which the
skeleton and his wife had given him, and in this he carefully wrapped
his dead pet. He had not one regret at leaving the bespangled suit, for
it was the best he could command, and surely nothing could be too good
for Mr. Stubbs.

Tenderly he laid him in the little grave, and, covering the body with
flowers, said, pausing a moment before he covered it over with earth,
and while his voice was choked with emotion: “Goodby, Mr. Stubbs,
goodby! I wish it had been me instead of you that died, for I’m an awful
sorry little boy, now that you’re dead!”

Even after the grave had been filled, and a little mound made over it,
the young man had the greatest difficulty to persuade Toby to go with
him; and when the boy did consent to go at last he walked very slowly
away, and kept turning his head to look back just so long as the little
grave could be seen.

Then, when the trees shut it completely out from sight, the tears
commenced again to roll down Toby’s cheeks, and he sobbed out: “I wish I
hadn’t left him. Oh, why didn’t I make him lie down by me? an’ then he’d
be alive now; an’ how glad he’d be to know that we was getting out of
the woods at last!”

But the man who had caused Toby this sorrow talked to him about other
matters, thus taking his mind from the monkey’s death as much as
possible, and by the time the boy reached the village he had told his
story exactly as it was, without casting any reproaches on Mr. Lord, and
giving himself the full share of censure for leaving his home as he did.

Mr. Lord and Mr. Castle had remained in the town but one day, for they
were told that a boy had taken the night train that passed through the
town about two hours after Toby had escaped, and they had set off at
once to act on that information.

Therefore Toby need have no fears of meeting either of them just then,
and he could start on his homeward journey in peace.

The young man who had caused the monkey’s death tried first to persuade
Toby to remain a day or two with him, and, failing in that, he did all
he could toward getting the boy home as quickly and safely as possible.
He insisted on paying for his ticket on the steamboat, although Toby did
all he could to prevent him, and he even accompanied Toby to the next
town, where he was to take the steamer.

He had not only paid for Toby’s ticket, but he had paid for a stateroom
for him; and when the boy said that he could sleep anywhere, and that
there was no need of such expense, the man replied: “Those men who were
hunting for you have gone down the river, and will be very likely to
search the boat, when they discover that they started on the wrong
scent. They will never suspect that you have got a stateroom; and if
you are careful to remain in it during the trip you will get through
safely.”

Then, when the time came for the steamer to start, the young man said to
Toby: “Now, my boy, you won’t feel hard at me for shooting the monkey,
will you? I would have done anything to bring him back to life, but, as
I could not do that, helping you to get home was the next best thing I
could do.”

“I know you didn’t mean to shoot Mr. Stubbs,” said Toby, with moistening
eyes as he spoke of his pet, “an’ I’m sorry I said what I did to you in
the woods.”

Before there was time to say any more the warning whistle was sounded,
the plank pulled in, the great wheels commenced to revolve, and Toby was
really on his way to Uncle Daniel and Guilford.

It was then but five o’clock in the afternoon, and he could not expect
to reach home until two or three o’clock in the afternoon of the next
day; but he was in a tremor of excitement as he thought that he should
walk through the streets of Guilford once more, see all the boys, and go
home to Uncle Daniel.

And yet, whenever he thought of that home, of meeting those boys, of
going once more to all those old familiar places, the memory of all that
he had planned when he should take the monkey with him would come into
his mind and damp even his joy, great as it was.

That night he had considerable difficulty in falling asleep, but did
finally succeed in doing so; and when he awoke the steamer was going
up the river, whose waters seemed like an old friend, because they had
flowed right down past Guilford on their way to the sea.

At each town where a landing was made Toby looked eagerly out on the
pier, thinking that by chance someone from his home might be there and
he would see a familiar face again. But all this time he heeded the
advice given him and remained in his room, where he could see and not
be seen; and it was well for him that he did so, for at one of the
landings he saw both Mr. Lord and Mr. Castle come on board the boat.

Toby’s heart beat fast and furious, and he expected every moment to hear
them at the door, demanding admittance, for it seemed to him that they
must know exactly where he was secreted.

But no such misfortune occurred. The men had evidently only boarded the
boat to search for the boy, for they landed again before the steamer
started, and Toby had the satisfaction of seeing their backs as they
walked away from the pier. It was some time before he recovered from the
fright which the sight of them gave him; but when he did his thoughts
and hopes far outstripped the steamer, which, it seemed, was going so
slowly, and he longed to see Guilford with an impatience that could
hardly be restrained.

At last he could see the spire of the little church on the hill, and
when the steamer rounded the point, affording a full view of the town,
and sounded her whistle as a signal for those on the shore to come to
the pier, Toby could hardly restrain himself from jumping up and down
and shouting in his delight.

He was at the gangplank ready to land fully five minutes before the
steamer was anywhere near the wharf, and when he recognized the first
face on the pier what a happy boy he was!

He was at home! The dream of the past ten weeks was at length realized,
and neither Mr. Lord nor Mr. Castle had any terrors for him now.

He ran down the gangplank before it was ready, and clasped every boy he
saw there round the neck, and would have kissed them if they had shown
an inclination to let him do so.

Of course he was overwhelmed with questions, but before he would answer
any he asked for Uncle Daniel and the others at home.

Some of the boys ventured to predict that Toby would get a jolly good
whipping for running away, and the only reply which the happy Toby made
to that was:

“I hope I will, an’ then I’ll feel as if I had kinder paid for runnin’
away. If Uncle Dan’l will only let me stay with him again he may whip me
every mornin’, an’ I won’t open my mouth to holler.”

The boys were impatient to hear the story of Toby’s travels, but he
refused to tell it them, saying:

“I’ll go home, an’ if Uncle Dan’l forgives me for bein’ so wicked I’ll
sit down this afternoon an’ tell you all you want to know about the
circus.”

Then, far more rapidly than he had run away from it, Toby ran toward the
home which he had called his ever since he could remember, and his heart
was full almost to bursting as he thought that perhaps he would be told
that he had forfeited all claim to it, and that he could never more call
it “home” again.

When he entered the old familiar sitting room Uncle Daniel was seated
near the window, alone, looking out wistfully--as Toby thought--across
the fields of yellow waving grain.

Toby crept softly in, and, going up to the old man, knelt down and said,
very humbly, and with his whole soul in the words, “Oh, Uncle Dan’l!
if you’ll only forgive me for bein’ wicked an’ runnin’ away, an’ let me
stay here again--for it’s all the home I ever had--I’ll do everything
you tell me to, an never whisper in meetin’ or do anything bad.”

And then he waited for the words which would seal his fate. They were
not long in coming.

“My poor boy,” said Uncle Daniel, softly, as he stroked Toby’s
refractory red hair, “my love for you was greater than I knew, and when
you left me I cried aloud to the Lord as if it had been my own flesh and
blood that had gone afar from me. Stay here, Toby, my son, and help to
support this poor old body as it goes down into the dark valley of the
shadow of death; and then, in the bright light of that glorious future,
Uncle Daniel will wait to go with you into the presence of Him who is
ever a father to the fatherless.”

And in Uncle Daniel’s kindly care we may safely leave Toby Tyler.

THE END





*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Toby Tyler; Or, Ten Weeks with a Circus" ***

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