After considerable preparation in the way of polishing his clappers on
the cuff of his jacket, and fingering the keys of his accordion to make
sure they were in proper working order, Leander extracted with one
finger a few bars of "Yankee Doodle" from the last-named instrument, and
gave an imitation of a drum with the clappers in a manner that won for
him no small amount of applause.
[Illustration: THE MANAGERS OF THE CIRCUS LOOKING AT THE POSTERS OF
THEIR RIVAL.]
"Now we'll go home," said Toby, "'cause Uncle Dan'l will be waitin' for
me an' the cows, an' to-morrow I'll meet you down town where the circus
pictures be."
Then he helped Abner on to his crutches, and walked beside him all the
way, wishing, oh, so much! that he could save the poor boy from having
to go out to the poor-farm to sleep.
"You come in just as early as you can in the mornin', Abner, an' you
shall eat dinner with me," he said, as he parted with the boy at Uncle
Daniel's gate, "an' perhaps you'll make so much money at our circus that
you won't ever have to go out to the poor-farm again."
Abner tried to thank his friend for the kindness he had shown him; but
the sobs of gratitude came into his throat so fast that it was
impossible, and he hobbled away toward his dreary home, while Toby ran
into the house to tell the astounding news of the coming of the circus.
"So all the people who were so kind to you will be here next week, will
they?" said, rather than asked, Aunt Olive. "Well, Toby, we'll kill one
of the lambs, an' you shall invite them up here to dinner, which will
kind of encourage them to be good to any other little boy who may be as
foolish as you were."
Toby lay awake a long time that night, thinking of the pleasure he was
to have in seeing Mr. and Mrs. Treat, old Ben, and little Ella eating
dinner in Uncle Daniel's home, and of how good a boy he ought to be to
repay his uncle and aunt for their loving-kindness to him.
Operations were almost entirely suspended by the would-be circus
managers in view of the coming of the real show. It would have been
commercial folly to attempt to enter into competition with it; the real
circus would, without a doubt, prove too strong a rival for them to
contend against; and by waiting until after it had come and gone they
might be able to pick up some useful ideas regarding the show they
proposed to give.
This delay would be to their advantage in a great many other ways. The
band would have so much time for practice that he might learn another
tune, or even be able to play with more than one finger; their acrobat
would have so many rehearsals that he could, perhaps, double his present
allowance of hand-springs, and Joe would be able to bring his horses to
a more perfect state of training.
Mr. Douglass, having no use for his horse, was perfectly willing he
should remain under Joe's tuition, providing it was done in Uncle
Daniel's pasture; but matters were not in so good a condition regarding
the pony.
Chandler Merrill was anxious to have his property returned to him, and
not willing to go after it. Besides, Mr. Douglass's horse was in great
danger of being kicked to death so long as the vicious little animal
remained in the same pasture.
Very many were the discussions the boys had on the subject; but nothing
could be suggested which promised any relief, after Bob's brilliant idea
of driving the pony out, and letting him find his way home as best he
might, was tried without success. The pony not only refused to go out,
but he actually drove the boys away by the liberal use he made of his
heels.
Slowly the time passed until the day before the one on which the circus
was to arrive. Toby had almost been counting the hours, and Abner, who
was to see the interior of a circus tent for the first time in his life,
was quite as excited as he.
The lamb had been killed, as Aunt Olive had promised, and a rare store
of good things in the way of apple pies, cake, doughnuts, and custards
had been prepared, until the pantry looked like a large-sized baker's
shop just opened for inspection.
Everything was ready for the guests who were to be invited to dinner
next day; and when Toby went to bed that night, it seemed as if he would
never get to sleep for thinking of all the friends he was to see.
Abner was in quite as sleepless a condition as Toby. Aunt Olive had
invited him to remain overnight, so that he might see everything that
was going on, and as he lay in the soft geranium-scented bed, his eyes
were kept wide open by his delight with what seemed to him the
magnificence of the room.
It seemed as though each boy in the village considered himself Toby's
particular and intimate friend during the week that preceded the coming
of the circus, and the marbles, balls, and boats that were showered upon
him in the way of gifts would almost have stocked a small shop.
Then, on this day before the circus, all the boys in town were most
anxious to know just where Toby proposed meeting the cavalcade, at what
time he was to start, and other details, which showed quite plainly it
was their intention to accompany him if possible.
When Toby went to bed, it was with the express understanding with Uncle
Daniel that he was to be called at daylight, in order that he might
start out to meet the circus when it stopped to prepare for its entrance
into the town. The place where the procession was usually formed, was
fully two miles from town, and as Abner could hardly walk that distance,
and certainly could not walk so fast as Toby would want to go, he had
agreed to drive the cows to pasture, after which he was to go to the
tenting ground, where his friend would introduce him to all the
celebrities.
Uncle Daniel seemed quite as anxious as Toby that he should leave the
house in time to meet his circus friends before the entrée was made, and
Aunt Olive afterward said, he didn't sleep a wink after two o'clock for
fear he might not waken in time to rouse the anxious boy.
It was fully an hour before sunrise when Uncle Daniel awakened Toby, and
cautioned him to eat as much of the lunch Aunt Olive had set out as
possible, insisting that what he could not eat he should put into his
pocket, as it would be a long while before he would get his dinner.
The two miles Toby was obliged to walk seemed very short ones, and at
nearly every house on the road one or more boys were watching for him
quite as eagerly as for the show itself, so that by the time he arrived
at the place where two or three of the wagons had drawn up by the side
of the road he had as many as a hundred boys for an escort, all of whom
were urging him to get the manager to take out a few lions and tigers
for their inspection before starting for the village.
Toby could hold out no promise to them; on the contrary, he insisted
that he hardly knew the manager, save by sight, and explained to them
that they were unwise to come with him on any such errand, since none of
the curiosities could be seen there, and if old Ben were still with the
company, he should ride back with him.
But the boys put very little faith in what he said, seeming to have the
idea that he simply wanted to get rid of them, and instead of going
away, they surrounded him more closely.
[TO BE CONTINUED.]
[Illustration: THE VAIN SPARROWS.]