While he stood there, the wagon in which the skeleton and his wife
travelled rolled past; but Toby knew they were still sleeping, and would
continue to do so until their tent was ready for them to go into.
The carriage in which the women of the company rode also passed him, and
he almost fancied he could see Ella sitting in one of the seats,
sleeping, with her head on her mother's shoulder, as she had slept on
the stormy night when his head was nearly jerked from his body as he
tried to sleep while sitting upright.
There were but three of the drivers who had been with the circus the
year before, and after speaking with them, he stood by the side of the
road, and watched the preparations for the entrée with feelings far
different from those with which he had observed such preparations in
that dreary time when he expected each moment to hear Job Lord order him
to attend to his work.
The other boys crowded quite as close to him as they could get, as if by
this means they allied themselves in some way with the show; and when a
number of ponies were led past, Joe Robinson said, longingly:
"There, Toby, if we had one or two of them to train, it would be
different work from what it is to make the Douglass hoss remember his
way round the ring."
"You wouldn't have to train them any," began Toby; and then he had no
time to say anything more, for Ben, who had been talking with the
manager, called to him.
"Has your uncle Dan'l got plenty of pasturage?" asked Ben, when the boy
approached him.
"Well, he's got twenty acres up by the stone quarry, an' he keeps three
cows on it, and Jack Douglass's hoss. He don't count, for he's only
there till we boys have our circus," said Toby, never for a moment
dreaming of the good fortune that was in store for him.
"So you're goin' to have a circus of your own, eh?" asked Ben, with a
smile that alarmed Toby, because he feared it was a signal for one of
those terrible laughing spells.
"We're only goin' to have a little three-cent one," replied Toby,
modestly, noting with satisfaction that Ben's mirth had gone no further
than the smile.
"Two of our ponies are about used up," said the manager, "and we've got
to leave them somewhere. Ben tells me he is going to see your uncle
Dan'l this noon; so suppose you and one of these boys ride them up to
the pasture now. Ben will make a bargain with your uncle for their
keeping, and you can use them in your circus if you want to."
Joe Robinson actually jumped for joy as he heard this, and Toby's
delight spread itself all over his face, while Bob Atwood and Ben
Cushing went near the fence, where they stood on their heads as a way of
expressing their elation at thus being able to have real live ponies in
their circus.
A black pony and a red one were then pointed out for Toby to take away,
and they were not more than twice as large as Newfoundland dogs; they
were, in fact, just exactly what was wanted for a little circus such as
the boys were about to start.
Joe was so puffed up with pride at being allowed to ride one of these
ponies through the village that if his mind could have affected his
body, he would not have weighed more than a pound, and he held his head
so high that it seemed a matter of impossibility for him to see his
feet.
Very much surprised were Uncle Daniel and Aunt Olive at seeing Toby and
Joe dash into the yard astride of these miniature horses, just as they
were sitting down to breakfast; and when the matter had been explained,
Abner appeared quite as much pleased that the boys would have this
attraction in their circus as if he were the sole proprietor of it.
It was with the greatest reluctance that either of the boys left his
pony in the stable-yard and sat down to breakfast, so eager was Joe to
get back to the tenting ground to see what was going on, and so anxious
was Toby to see the skeleton and his wife as soon as possible. But they
ate because Uncle Daniel insisted that they should do so; and when
breakfast was over, he advised that the ponies be left in the stable
until Chandler Merrill's pony could be removed from the pasture.
When they started down town again, Abner went with them, and it was so
late in the morning that Toby was sure the skeleton and his wife would
be prepared to receive visitors.
When Toby, Abner, and Joe reached the tenting ground, everything was in
that delightful state of bustle and confusion which is attendant upon
the exhibition of a circus in a country town, where the company do not
expect that the tent will be more than half filled, and where, in
consequence, the programme will be considerably shortened.
It did not require much search on Toby's part to find the tent wherein
the skeleton and his wife exhibited their contrasting figures, for the
pictures which hung outside were so gaudy, and of such an unusually
large size, that they commanded the attention of every visitor.
"Now I'm goin' in to see 'em," said Toby, first making sure that the
exhibition had not begun; "an', Joe, you take Abner over so's he can see
how Nahum Baker keeps a stand, an' then he'll know what to do when we
have our circus. I'll come back here for you pretty soon."
Then Toby ran around to the rear of the tent, where he knew he would
find a private entrance, and thus less risk of receiving a blow on the
head from some watchful attendant. In a few moments he stood before Mr.
and Mrs. Treat, who, having just completed their preparations, were
about to announce that the exhibition could be opened.
"Why, Toby Tyler, you dear little thing!" cried the enormous lady, in a
joyful tone, after she had looked at the boy intently for a moment, to
make sure he was really the one whom she had rescued several times from
Job Lord's brutality; and then she took him in her fat arms, hugging him
much as if he were a lemon and she an unusually large squeezer. "Where
did you come from? How have you been? Did you find your uncle Daniel?"
Her embrace was so vigorous that it was some seconds after she had
released him before he could make any reply; and while he was trying to
get his breath, the fleshless Mr. Treat took him solemnly by the hand,
and cleared his throat as if he were determined to take advantage of the
occasion to make one of his famous speeches.
"My dear Mr. Tyler," he said, squeezing Toby's hand until it ached, "it
is almost impossible for me to express the joy I feel at meeting you
once more. We--Lilly and I--have looked forward to such a moment as this
with a great deal of impatience, and even during our most prosperous
exhibitions we have found time to speak of you."
"There, there, Samuel, don't take up so much time with your long-winded
talk, but let me see the dear little fellow myself;" and Mrs. Treat
lifted her slim husband into a chair, where he was out of her way, and
again greeted Toby by kissing him on both cheeks with a resounding smack
that rivalled anything Reddy Grant had yet been able to do in the way of
cracking his whip.
Then she fairly overwhelmed him with questions, nor would she allow her
husband to say a word until Toby had answered them all. He was again
obliged to tell the story of Mr. Stubbs's death; of his return home, and
everything connected with his running away from the circus; while all
the time the fat lady alternately kissed and hugged him, until it seemed
as if he would never be able to finish his story.
"And now that you are home again, don't ever think of running away, even
though I must admit that you made a wonderful success in the ring;" and
Mr. Treat crossed one leg over the other in a triumphant way, pleased
that he had at last succeeded in getting a chance to speak.
Toby was very emphatic in his assurances that he should never run away
again, for he had had quite as much experience in that way as he wanted.
After he had finished, Mrs. Treat, by way of further showing her joy at
meeting him once more, brought out from a large black trunk fully half a
dozen doughnuts, each quite as large among their kind as she was among
women.
"Now eat every one of them," she said, as she handed them to Toby, "an'
it will do me good to see you, for you always used to be such a hungry
little fellow."
Toby had already had two breakfasts that morning, but he did not wish to
refuse the kindly proffered gift, and he made every effort to do as she
had requested, though one of the cakes would have been quite a feast for
him at his hungriest moment.
The food reminded him of the invitation he was to deliver, and as he
forced down the rather heavy cake he said:
"Aunt Olive's killed a lamb, an' made an awful lot of things for dinner
to-day, an' Uncle Dan'l says he'd be glad to have you come up. Ben's
comin', an' I'm goin' to find Ella, so's to have her come, an' we'll
have a good time."
"Lilly an' I will be pleased to see your aunt's lamb, and we shall be
delighted to meet your uncle Daniel," replied the skeleton, before his
wife could speak; and then a "far-away" look came into his eyes, as if
he could already taste--or at least smell--the feast in which he was
certain he should take so much pleasure.
"That's just the way with Samuel," said Mrs. Treat, as if she would
offer some apology for the almost greedy way in which her husband
accepted the invitation; "he's always thinking so much about eating that
I'm afraid he'll begin to fat up, and then I shall have to support both
of us."
"Now, my dear"--and Mr. Treat used a tone of mild reproof--"why should
you have such ideas, and why express them before our friend Mr. Tyler?
I've eaten considerable, perhaps, at times; but during ten years you
have never seen me grow an ounce the fatter, and surely I have grown
some leaner in that time."
"Yes, yes, Sammy, I know it, and you shall eat all you can get: only try
not to show that you think so much about it." Then, turning to Toby:
"He's such a trial, Sam is. We'll go to see your uncle, Toby, and we
should be very glad to do so even if we wasn't going for dinner."
"Ben an' me will come 'round when it's time to go," said Toby; and then,
in a hesitating way, he added: "Abner's out here--he's a cripple that
lives out to the poor-farm--an' he never saw a circus or anything. Can't
I bring him in here a minute before you open the show?"
[Illustration: MR. AND MRS. TREAT EXHIBIT PRIVATELY FOR THE BENEFIT OF
THE BOYS.]
"Of course you can, Toby, my dear, and you may bring all your friends.
We'll give an exhibition especially for them. We haven't got a
sword-swallower this year, and the albino children that you used to know
have had to leave the business, because albinos got so plenty they
couldn't earn their salt; but we've got a new snake-charmer, and a man
without legs, and a bearded lady, so--"
"So that our entertainment is as morally effective and instructively
entertaining as ever," said Mr. Treat, interrupting his wife to speak a
good word for the exhibition.
Toby ran out quickly, that he might not delay the regular business any
longer than was absolutely necessary.
"Come right in quick, fellers," he cried, "an' you can see the whole show
before it commences."
The invitation was no sooner given than accepted, and in a twinkling
every one of those boys was inside the tent.
Toby had told Mr. and Mrs. Treat of the little circus they were
intending to have, and he introduced to them his partners in the
enterprise.
The fleshy Lilly smiled encouragingly upon them, and the skeleton,
moving his chair slightly to prevent his wife from interrupting him,
said:
"I am pleased to meet you, gentlemen, principally, and I might almost
say wholly, because you are the friends of my old friend Mr. Tyler.
Whatever business relations you may have with him, whether in the great
profession of the circus or in the humbler walks of life, I am sure he
will honor the connection."
From appearances Mr. Treat would have continued to talk for some time,
but his wife passed around more doughnuts, and the attention of the
visitors was so distracted that he was obliged to stop.
"And this is Abner," said Toby, taking advantage of the break in the
skeleton's speech to lead forward his crippled friend.
Abner limped blushingly toward the gigantic lady, and when both she and
her thin husband spoke to him kindly, he was so covered with confusion
at the honor thus showered upon him that he was hardly able to say a
word.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
"THE SWEETEST MOTHER."