CHANGE OF PLANS
Toby was thoroughly surprised, when he awoke, to find that it was
morning, and that his slumber had been as sweet as if nothing had
happened. He dressed himself as quickly as possible, and ran
down-stairs, and Uncle Daniel told him the doctor had just left, after
saying he thought Abner would recover.
It was a sad visit Toby paid Mr. Stubbs's brother that morning; and, as
he petted him, the tears came into his eyes when he thought of poor
Abner, until he was obliged to leave the monkey to himself, after having
tied him so that he could take a short run out of doors.
Then he visited the ponies in the stable, and when he returned to the
house he found all his partners in the circus enterprise, as well as
several other boys, waiting to hear an account of the accident.
Dr. Abbott had reported that Abner had been injured; but, as he had not
given any particulars, the villagers were in a state of anxious
uncertainty regarding it.
After Toby had told them all he knew about the matter, and had allowed
them to see the monkey and the ponies, which some of them seemed to
regard as of more importance than the injured boy, Bob asked:
"Well, now what about our circus?"
"Why, we can't do anything on that till Abner gets well," said Toby, as
if surprised that the matter should even be spoken about.
"Why not? He wasn't goin' to do any of the ridin', an' now's the time
for us to go ahead while we can remember what they did at the show
yesterday. It don't make any difference 'bout our circus if he did get
hurt," and Bob looked around at the others as if asking whether they
agreed with him or not.
"I think we ought to wait till he gets better," said Joe, "'cause he was
goin' in with us, an' it don't seem jest fair to have the show when he's
so sick."
"That's foolish," said Ben, with a sneer. "If he hadn't come up to the
pasture the other day, you wouldn't thought anything 'bout him, an' he'd
been out to the poor-farm where he belongs."
"If he hadn't come up there," said Toby, "I'd never known how lonesome
he was, an' I'd gone right on havin' a good time without ever once
thinkin' of him. An' if he hadn't come up there, perhaps he wouldn't got
hurt, an' it seems almost as if I'd done it to him, 'cause I took him to
the circus."
"Don't make a fool of yourself, Toby Tyler!" and Ben Cushing spoke
almost angrily. "You act awful silly 'bout that feller, an' father says
he's only a pauper anyway."
"It wouldn't make any difference if he was, 'cause he's a poor lonesome
cripple; but he hain't a pauper, for old Ben's goin' to take care of
him, an' he pays Uncle Dan'l for lettin' him stay here."
This news was indeed surprising to the boys, and as they fully realized
that Abner was under the protection of a "circus man," he rose
considerably in their estimation.
They were anxious to know all about the matter, and when Toby told them
all he could, they looked at the case in such an entirely different
light that Ben Cushing even offered to go out in the field, where he
could be seen from the windows of the room in which Abner lay, and go
through his entire acrobatic performance in the hope the sight might do
the invalid some good. Leander Leighton also offered to come twice each
day and play "Yankee Doodle" with one finger on the accordion, in order
to soothe him.
But Toby thought it best to decline both these generous offers; he was
glad they had been made, but would have been much better pleased if they
had come while it was still believed Abner's only home was at the
poorhouse.
When the boys went away, Toby pleaded so hard that Aunt Olive consented
to his sitting in the chamber where Abner lay, with the agreement that
he should make no noise; and there he remained nearly all the day, as
still as any mouse, watching the pale face on which death seemed already
to have set its imprint.
Each day for two weeks Toby remained on watch, leaving the room only
when it was necessary, and he was at last rewarded by hearing Abner call
him by name.
After that, Aunt Olive allowed the two boys to talk a little, and a few
days later Mr. Stubbs's brother was brought in to pay his respects to
the invalid.
Many times during Abner's illness had the boys been up to learn how he
was getting on, and to try to persuade Toby to commence again the
preparations for the circus; but he had steadily refused to proceed
further in the matter until Abner could at least play the part of
spectator.
Uncle Daniel had had several letters from Ben inquiring about Abner's
condition; and as each one contained money, some of which had been sent
by the skeleton and his wife to "Toby Tyler's friend," the sick boy had
wanted for nothing. Ben had also written that he had gained the consent
of the proprietors of the circus to have the ponies driven for Abner's
benefit, and had sent a dainty little carriage and harnesses so that he
could ride out as soon as he was able.
Chandler Merrill had grown tired of waiting for his pony, and had taken
him from the pasture, while Reddy had long since returned the blind
horse to its owner.
But during all these five weeks the work had gone slowly but steadily on
circusward. Leander had become so expert a musician on the accordion,
that he could play "Yankee Doodle" with all his fingers, "Old Hundred"
with two; and was fast mastering the intricacies of "Old Dog Tray."
As to Ben Cushing, it would be hard to say exactly how much progress he
had made, the reports differed so much. He claimed to be able to turn
hand-springs around the largest circus ring that was ever made, and to
stand on his head for a week; but some of the boys who were not partners
in the enterprise flatly contradicted this, and declared that they could
do as many feats in the acrobatic line as he could.
Joe Robinson had practised howling until Reddy insisted that there was
little or no difference between him and the fiercest and
strongest-lunged hyena that ever walked. Bob could sing the two songs
his sister had taught him, and had written out twelve copies of them in
order to have a good stock to sell from; but Leander predicted that he
would not be able to dispose of many, because one was the "Suwanee
River," and the other "A Poor Wayfaring Man," the words of which any boy
could get by consulting an old music-book.
Reddy had made a remarkably large whip, which he could snap once out of
every three attempts, and not hit himself on the head more than once out
of five.
Thus the circus project was as promising as ever, and Abner, as well as
the other partners, had urged Toby to take hold of it again; but he had
made no promises until the day came when Abner was able to sit up, and
Dr. Abbott said that he could go out for a ride in another week, if he
still continued to improve.
Then it was that Toby told his partners he would meet them on the first
day Abner went out for a ride, and tell them when he would take up the
circus work again, which made every one more anxious than ever to see
the poor-farm boy out of doors.
From the time when the tiny little carriage and the two sets of harness
glistening with silver had come, Toby had been anxious for a drive with
the ponies; but he had resolutely refused to use them until Abner could
go with him, although Uncle Daniel had told him he could try them
whenever he wished. He had waited for his other pleasures until Abner
could join him, and he insisted on waiting for this one. One day, when
Aunt Olive spoke to him about it, he said:
"If I was sick, an' had such a team sent to me, I'd feel kinder bad to
have some other boy using it, an' so I'm goin' to let Abner be the
first one to go out with the ponies."
It was hard not even to get into the little carriage that was so
carefully covered with a white cloth in the stable; but Toby resisted
the temptation, and when at last the day did come that Aunt Olive and
Uncle Daniel helped the sick boy down-stairs, and lifted him into the
prettiest little pony carriage ever seen in Guilford, he felt amply
rewarded for his denial.
They drove all over the town, stopping now and then to speak with some
of their friends, or to answer questions as to Abner's health; and when
it was nearly time to return home Toby turned the ponies' heads towards
the pasture, where he knew his partners were waiting for him according
to agreement.
"We'll go on with the circus now," he said to Abner, "for I can take you
with me in this team, an' you can stay in it all the time we're
practising so's it'll be 'most as good as if you could do something
towards it yourself."
Abner was quietly happy; the tender, thoughtful care that had been
bestowed upon him since his mishap had been such as, in his mind at
least, repaid him for all the pain.
"I hope you will have it," he said, earnestly, "for, even if I can't be
with you all the time, I won't feel as if I was keepin' you from it."
Then he put his hand in a loving way on Toby's cheek, and the "boss of
the circus" felt fully repaid for having waited for his pleasure.
At the pasture all the partners were gathered, for Toby had promised to
tell them when he would begin operations; and as he drove the ponies up
to the bars, he shouted:
"Abner an' me will be up here about nine o'clock to-morrow morning, an'
we'll bring Mr. Stubbs's brother with us."
There was a mighty shout, and Ben Cushing stood on his head, when this
announcement was made, and then Toby and Abner drove home as quickly as
their ponies could scamper.