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Title: Toby Tyler

Author: James Otis

Release Date: February, 2005  [EBook #7478]
[This file was first posted on May 8, 2003]

Edition: 10

Language: English

Character set encoding: US-ASCII

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, TOBY TYLER ***




This etext was produced by Martin Robb <MartinRobb@ieee.org>



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 be 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
be 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 be 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




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