THE WRATH OF MR. TARBOX.
Colman's Grand Combined Circus and Menagerie, with its line of showy
chariots, its collection of animals from all parts of the habitable
world, and its general array of wonders, had pitched its tent in a
large otherwise unoccupied lot in the eastern part of the town.
An immense tent, capable of containing six thousand spectators, had
been erected, and presented a picturesque appearance. All was hurry
and bustle in and around the circus tent. Crowds of staring urchins
were gathered as near as possible, on the chance of seeing something
of the wonders hidden by the canvas. I am afraid more boys played
truant on that day than had done so for many previous weeks, for to the
mind of the average school-boy there is nothing more seductive than a
travelling show.
Anak and Robert had been missed, for it was not often they absented
themselves so long, and it is possible that the heart of the manager
might have been stirred by apprehensions lest two of his greatest
attractions should have taken French leave and forsaken him on the eve
of battle.
When they were seen approaching, a boy smaller than Robert ran to meet
them.
This was Charlie Davis, also a bareback rider, but a year younger than
Robert, who performed an act with him.
"Where have you been, you two?" he asked. "I thought you'd run away?"
"If Anak ran away, it would take a fast runner to catch him," said
Robert. "No, we've been taking a walk."
"Why didn't you tell me? I should like to have gone, too."
"You're not much of a walker, you know, Charlie. Still you might have
helped us. We got into a fight."
"Where? Who did you fight with?" asked Charlie, his curiosity aroused.
"With a brutal old farmer, who had tied a boy to a tree, and was going
to flog him. You ought to have seen how Anak tamed him down. He just
took him by the collar, and shook him as a cat would a rat."
"What did he do?"
"He called his dog, a big, ugly brute, named Bruiser. Bruiser's funeral
will take place to-morrow."
"I wish I had been with you," said Charlie, in a tone of disappointment.
"If you had, I should have let you do the fighting," said Anak. "Well,
Charlie, how are things getting on?"
"Oh, everything is about ready. They've laid out the ring, and are
putting up the seats. The bearded lady's sick, and says she shan't
appear if she doesn't feel better. But they can spare her better than
they could us."
"I don't know," said Robert, smiling. "At any rate, we have harder work
to do than she, though we may not get as much money."
"And it isn't as good fun, either," remarked Charlie.
"That's true. Well, let us go in and see how things are going on."
Charlie Davis was a year younger and considerably smaller than Robert,
but his line of business was the same, and the two rode together well.
Young performers are always popular, and the two boys always received
their share of applause. Charlie had a more lively temperament than
Robert, and being a little fellow was a general favorite among the
other performers.
Leaving the circus for a time we will go back to Mr. Nathan Tarbox, who
had been so signally defeated in his plans of revenge upon his young
victim by Anak. As he entered the house he was met by Mrs. Tarbox, who
from the window had witnessed with dismay the conflict between her
husband and the Norwegian giant.
She was a tall, bony woman, not usually demonstrative, but she rushed
up to her husband on this occasion in a tremor of excitement and threw
her arms round his neck.
"Oh, Nathan!" she exclaimed, "I thought that monster would kill you. I
shook like a leaf when I saw you in his grasp."
"Quit your fooling," returned the affectionate husband. "Why didn't you
come out and help me?"
"How could I—a delicate woman like me?" asked Mrs. Tarbox,
reproachfully.
"I suppose you wouldn't have minded seeing me killed before your eyes,"
retorted Nathan with sarcasm; "you wasn't too delicate for that. I dare
say you'd like to be a widow."
"How can you talk so, Nathan? You hurt my feelings. Do be reasonable,
now. What could I do?"
"What could you do? I'll tell you what you could do. You could have
taken the frying-pan and laid it over his head. That's what you ought
to have done. Between us we could have managed the big brute."
"You know, Nathan, I couldn't have reached his head. Who is he? I never
saw such a monster before in all my born days."
"He's the Norwegian giant at the circus. If he hadn't been a giant I
could have managed him. There isn't a man in town but I can handle."
"Of course there isn't. What made him touch you?"
"It's all the fault of them bad Graham children that tramped across my
fields when I'd told 'em not to. I was goin' to give the biggest one
a lesson with a horsewhip, when that overgrown ruffian broke in and
seized me. I wish I had him tied to a tree just for five minutes," said
Tarbox, walking the room in his fury. "Big as he is I'd lash him till
he bellowed for mercy."
"That would be nice, Nathan dear," said Mrs. Tarbox, complacently.
"Nice, Mrs. Tarbox!" exclaimed her husband, turning the vials of his
anger upon her; "we might have done it, too, if you had had the courage
to come out and stand by your husband. You could have seized him from
behind, while I gave him a lashing. Instead of that you were standing
at the window smirking in your foolish way, I've no doubt. A pretty
wife you are!"
"O Nathan, I am sure you don't know what you are saying. You forget I
am a weak, delicate woman."
Though Mrs. Tarbox was tall, strong, gaunt and bony, she was accustomed
to consider herself delicate. It was fortunate that she was not so, and
that she was not particularly sensitive, or the brutal temper of her
husband would have worn upon her more than it did. She was fortunate in
being a silly woman. It saved her much mental suffering.
"You weak and delicate!" retorted her husband, contemptuously. "So is a
ostrich."
"Where's Bruiser? Why didn't you call him?"
Mrs. Tarbox had not witnessed the untimely fate of that amiable
quadruped.
At the mention of Bruiser her husband's wrath again overflowed.
"He's dead!" he shouted. "That brute killed him."
"How did he do it?" asked his wife, not without curiosity, for she knew
the bull-dog's strength.
"Kicked him to death! That's how he did it."
"He must be very strong," murmured Mrs. Tarbox. "Don't you think we
ought to erect a gravestone over Bruiser," she continued, "just as I
did over that sweet canary? A piece of board would do, you know."
"Perhaps you'd like to write some lines for it," remarked Mr. Tarbox,
sarcastically.
"I was thinking, Nathan, we could put something like this:
HERE LIES BRUISER!
Cut off in the flower of his youth—
Gone to meet old Towser!"
and Mrs. Tarbox looked up to her husband for his approval.
"Mrs. Tarbox," he said, "I believe you are the greatest fool in town.
Have you got any common sense?"
"Nathan, you shouldn't talk so to your wife," she answered, placidly.
"I only spoke for the best; of course, if you think of anything you
like better, I don't care."
"I have no time to think of epitaphs on dogs, Mrs. Tarbox. I've got
something more important to do. Do you know what I am going to do, Mrs.
Tarbox?"
"Change your shirt, perhaps," said his wife; "you forgot to do it this
morning."
Mr. Tarbox came near swearing.
"No," said he, "I'm going to have that brute arrested for assault and
battery, for trespassing on my grounds and killing my dog. That's what
I'm going to do."
"So I would, Nathan. I wonder you didn't think of it before."
"Then get supper ready, and I'll go round and get a warrant for his
arrest as quick as I get through."