OLD BEN
Some time the boys watched for Toby's return, and just as they were
beginning to think they ought to go in search of him, and fearing lest
he had been hurt by the vicious pony, they saw him coming from among the
trees, alone and on foot.
"Well," said Bob, with a sigh of relief, "he's got rid of the hoss, an'
that was all we wanted."
Toby's story, when at last, hot and tired, he reached the alder bushes,
was not nearly so exciting as his partners anticipated. He had clung to
the pony until they entered the woods, where he was brushed off by the
branches of the trees as easily as if he had been a fly, and with as
little damage.
How they should get the pony back into its owner's keeping was a
question difficult to answer, and they were all so completely worn out
by their exertions to get rid of him that they did not attempt to come
to any conclusion regarding it.
While they were resting from their labors, and before they had ceased to
congratulate each other that they had succeeded in separating themselves
from the pony, Leander Leighton, his accordion under his arm and his
clappers in his hand, made his appearance.
His struggle with the baby had evidently come to an end sooner than he
had dared hope, and the managers were happy at this speedy prospect of
hearing what their band could do in the way of music.
"Boys!" shouted Leander, excitedly, while he was some distance away,
"there's a real circus comin' here next week--the same one Toby Tyler
run away with--an' the men are pastin' up the bills now, down to the
village!"
The boys looked at each other in surprise; it had never entered into
their calculations that they might have a real circus as a rival, and
certainly Toby had never thought he would again see those whom he had
first run away with and then run away from. He was rather disturbed by
the prospect at first, for it seemed certain that Job Lord and Mr.
Castle would try to compel him to go with them; but a moment's thought
convinced him that Uncle Daniel would not allow them to carry him away,
and he grew as eager for more news as any of the others.
Leander knew no more than he had already told; after having been
relieved from his care of the baby, he had started for the pasture, and
had seen the show-bills as he came along. He was certain it was the same
circus Toby had gone with, for the names on the bills were the same, and
he had heard some of the townspeople say so as he came along.
"An' I shall see the skeleton an' the fat woman again," said Toby,
delighted at the idea of meeting those kind friends from whom he had
thought himself parted with forever.
"Don't you s'pose you could get 'em to leave that show an' come with
ours?" asked Bob, thinking perhaps some kind fortune had thrown this
opportunity in their way that they might the better succeed in their
project.
Toby was not sure such a plan could be made to work, for the reason that
they were only intending to give two or three performances, and Mr. and
Mrs. Treat might not think it worth their while to leave the circus they
were with on the strength of such uncertain prospects.
"And you shall go to the show, Abner," said Toby, pleased at the
opportunity he would have of making the crippled boy happy for one day
at least; "an' I'll take all of you fellers down, an' get the skeleton
to talk at you, so's you can see how nice he is. You shall see his wife,
an' old Ben, an' Ella, an'--"
"But won't you be afraid of Job Lord?" interrupted Leander, fearful lest
Toby's dread of meeting his old employer might prevent them from having
all this promised enjoyment.
"Uncle Dan'l wouldn't let him take me away, an' now I'm home here I
don't believe old Ben would let him touch me."
There was evidently no probability that they would transact any more
business relative to their own circus that day, so intent were they on
talking about the one that was to come, and it was not until nearly time
to drive the cows home that they remembered the presence of their band.
Ben proposed that Leander should show them what he could do in the way
of music, so that he need not be at the trouble of bringing his
accordion up into the pasture again, and the boys ceased all
conversation for the purpose of listening to the so-called melody.
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.
"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 towards 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.