THE RESULTS OF LONG TRAINING
Mr. Stubbs's brother had been a close observer of all that was going on,
probably to guard against another sudden fright such as the overture had
given him, and the moment Ben commenced to revolve he leaped from the
tree, running with full speed towards the whirling acrobat.
Toby started to catch him, but the monkey was too quick in his
movements: before any one could prevent him he had caught the revolving
boy by one leg, and for a few seconds it was difficult to tell which was
Ben and which the monkey.
Of course such an interruption as that broke up the performance for the
time being, and Toby was obliged to exert all his authority to
disentangle the monkey from the performer.
"I knew it wouldn't do to let him be loose," said Toby, in a
half-apologetic tone. "Now I'll set here an' hold him while you commence
over again, Ben."
"Well, now, be sure you hold him," said Ben, seriously, "for I don't
want him to catch me again when I'm goin' 'round so fast, for it hurts a
feller to tumble the way he made me."
Bob offered to help hold the unruly monkey, and, when he and Toby had
taken a firm grip on the collar, the music was started again, and Ben
recommenced his performance.
This time he got through with it in a highly successful and creditable
manner; he proved to be a really good acrobat, so far as turning
hand-springs and standing on his head were concerned, and Toby felt
certain that this portion of the entertainment would be pleasing.
Bob now went into the ring, and began to sing the "Suwanee River" in a
manner which he intended should captivate his audience; but he had
neglected to give the band any orders, and the consequence was that,
when he commenced to sing, Leander began to play "Old Dog Tray," a
proceeding which mixed the musical matters considerably.
"You mustn't do that, Leander," Bob said, sharply, after he had done his
best to sing the band down, and failed in the attempt. "It won't do for
you to play one thing while I'm tryin' to sing something else. Now, you
be restin' while I'm doin' my part."
Leander was so deeply interested in the enterprise that he was perfectly
willing to keep on playing without ever thinking of taking a rest; but
in deference to Bob's wishes he ceased his efforts, although he did
venture to remark that he noticed particularly, when the real circus was
there, that the band always played when the clown sang.
Bob got along very well with his portion of the rehearsal after the
first mistake had been rectified; and when he finished he bowed
gracefully in response to the applause bestowed upon him.
"Now's the time when you come in, Toby," said Bob; "an' if you'll see
how you can ride the ponies, Joe'll run around the ring with 'em."
Toby was willing to do his share of the work, and all the more so
because he could see that Abner, from his cosy seat under the bushes,
was deeply interested in all that was going on.
Joe got one of the ponies while Toby made his preparations; and after
the little horse had been led around the circle two or three times to
show what was expected of him, Toby got on his back. This was Reddy's
opportunity to act the part of ring-master, and he seized his long whip,
standing in the centre of the ring, in what he believed to be the
proper attitude.
"Run around with him till I tell you to let go," said Toby, as he tied
the reins together to form a bridle, and then stood on the pony's back
as Mr. Castle had taught him to do.
There was so great a difference between the motion of this horse and
that of the one owned by Mr. Douglass, that Toby began to understand it
might be quite as necessary to train the animal as its rider.
Owing to his lack of practice he was a little clumsy; but after one or
two attempts he went around the ring standing on one foot, almost as
well as he had done it when with Ella.
The boys, who had never seen Toby ride before were thoroughly elated by
the brief exhibition he gave them; and if he had done as they wanted, he
would have tired both himself and the pony completely.
"I'll practise some, now Abner can come out," said Toby, as he led his
steed to a spot where he could get more grass, but neglected to fasten
him; "an' I wouldn't wonder if I could ride two at once, after a little
while."
His partners in the enterprise were more than delighted with their
rider, and they already began to believe they should have such a circus
as would, in some points, eclipse the real one that had lately visited
the town.
After the excitement caused by Toby's riding had in a measure died away,
Ben continued with his feats according to the programme, and then Bob
commenced his second song.
The audience of partners were listening to it intently, the more because
it seemed to them that Bob had made a mistake as to the tune, and they
were anxious to see what he was going to do about it--when the pony
Toby had been riding suddenly dashed into the ring, with what looked
very like a boy on his back.
The partners were amazed at this interruption, and Bob continued to
sound the note he was wrestling with when he first saw the pony coming
towards him, until it ended almost in a shriek.
"Who is it?" cried Joe, as the pony dashed across the pasture, urged to
full speed by its rider, and in an instant more all saw a long curling
tail, which showed unmistakably who the culprit was.
"It's Mr. Stubbs's brother!" cried Toby, in alarm, "and how shall we
catch him?"
It was, indeed, the monkey, and during the next ten minutes it seemed to
the boys that they ran over every square foot of that pasture, scaring
the cows and tiring themselves, until the frightened little horse was
penned up in one corner, and his disagreeable rider was taken from him.
This last act of the rehearsal had occupied so much time, and the
monkey was making himself so troublesome, that Toby decided to go home,
the others promising to come to Uncle Daniel's barn that afternoon, when
Reddy was to explain how the tent was to be procured, a matter which, up
to this time, he had kept a profound secret from all but Bob.
Short as the time spent at the rehearsal seemed to the boys, it was
considerably too long for one in Abner's weak condition, as was evident
from his face when Aunt Olive came to the door to help him out of the
carriage.
He seemed thoroughly exhausted, and, as soon as he got into the house,
asked to be allowed to lie down--a confession of weakness that gave Aunt
Olive a great deal of uneasiness, because she considered herself in a
great measure responsible for the ride and its results, as she had urged
Abner to go before the doctor's advice had been heard in the matter.
Toby's fears regarding the invalid were always reflections of Aunt
Olive's; but when he saw Abner go to sleep so quickly, he thought she
was alarmed without cause, and believed his friend would be quite
himself so soon as he should awaken.
Dinner-time came and passed, and Abner was still sleeping sweetly.
Therefore Toby could see no reason why he should not join his partners,
whom he saw going into the barn before dinner was over.
"The boys have come up to see 'bout the tent," he said to Aunt Olive,
"an' I'm goin' out to the barn, where they're waitin' for me. Will you
call me when Abner wakes up?"
Aunt Olive promised that he should be informed as soon as the sick boy
could see him, and Toby joined his partners with never a fear but that
Abner would soon be able to participate in all his sports.
That the boys had come to Uncle Daniel's barn on very serious business
was evident from their faces, and the two large packages they brought.
Two rolls of what looked to be sail-cloth were lying on the barn floor,
and around them Bob, Reddy, Joe, Ben, and Leander were seated with a
look on their faces that was very nearly a troubled one.
"What's them?" asked Toby, in surprise, as he pointed to the bundles.
"The tent," and Reddy gave a big sigh as he spoke.
"What, have you got two?" asked Toby, a look of glad surprise showing
itself on his face.
Reddy shook his head.
"What's the matter? If there hain't two tents here, what makes the two
bundles?" And Toby was almost impatient because he could not understand
the matter.
"Well, you see, this is just how it is," said Reddy, as he began to
untie the fastenings from the rolls of canvas. "When I told you I could
get a tent, I'd asked Captain Whetmore to lend me two of the sails what
he took off his schooner, an' he told me yes."
"An' you've got 'em, haven't you?" and Toby looked meaningly at the
canvas.
"Yes, we've got 'em," replied Joe; "but now we don't know how to fix
'em, 'cause you see we've got to put 'em up like a roof, an' we hain't
got anything for the ends."
Reddy had planned to use each of the sails as a side to the tent,
fastening them along the top to a ridge-pole; and it had never occurred
to him, in all the time he had had to think the matter over, that as yet
he had nothing with which to form the ends.
It was a question that puzzled the boys greatly, and caused their faces
to grow very long, until Toby said:
"I'll tell you how we can fix one end. We can put it right up against
the barn, where the little door is, an' then we can have the stalls for
a dressin'-room."
The faces of the partners lightened at once, and each wondered why he
had not thought of such a plan.
"An' I'll tell you how we could fix the other end," said Toby, quickly,
as another happy thought presented itself. "If Mr. Mansfield would lend
us his big flag, it would jest do it."
"That's the very thing, an' I'll go an' ask him now;" and Bob started
out of the barn at full speed, while Reddy, now that the important
question was settled, displayed great alacrity in unrolling his
treasures.
The sails were not in a remarkable state of preservation, or Captain
Whetmore would not have taken them from his vessel; but Reddy explained
that the holes could be closed up by pasting paper over them, or by each
boy borrowing a sheet from his mother and pinning it up underneath.
One of the sails was considerably larger than the other; but Reddy had
also thought of this, and proposed to make them look the same size by
"tucking one in" at the end.
Bob returned before the sails had been thoroughly inspected, and brought
with him the coveted flag, thus showing he had been successful in his
mission.
"Now let's put it right up, an' then we can build our ring, an' do our
practisin' there instead of goin' up to the pasture," suggested Ben.
Since there was no reason why this should not be done, Bob and Ben
started for the woods to cut some young trees with which to make a
ridge-pole and posts, while the others carried the canvas out-of-doors,
and made calculations as to where and how it should be put up.
When they commenced work, they had no idea but that it would be
completed before supper-time; but when the village clock struck the hour
of five, they had not finished making the necessary poles and pegs.
"We can't come anywhere near getting it done to-night," said Toby,
surprised at the lateness of the hour, and wondering why Aunt Olive had
not called him as she had promised. "Let's put the sails back in the
barn, an' to-morrow mornin' we can begin early, an' have it all done by
noon."
There was no hope that they could complete the work that night Therefore
Toby's advice was followed; and when the partners separated, each
promised to be ready for work early the next morning.