ABNER'S DEATH
After Toby was left alone in the tent, he remained for some time looking
at the triumphant monkey, and listening to Ben's attempts to crawl
around under the barn as fast as the cat could, when suddenly, as if
such a thought had not occurred to him before, he cried out:
"Don't you want me to come an' help you, Ben?"
"You keep that monkey back, that's all the helpin' I want," Ben replied,
almost sharply, and then the sounds indicated that the cat had suddenly
changed her position to one farther under the barn, while the boy was
trying to frighten her out.
"Give it up, Ben," shouted Toby, after waiting some time longer, and not
seeing any sign of success on the part of his friend. "If you come up
here about dark you'll have a chance to catch her, for she'll have to
come out for something to eat."
"You take the monkey into the house, an' I'll get along all right," was
the almost savage reply. "She smells him, an' jest as long as he's there
she'll stay under here."
It seemed to Toby almost cruel to desert his friend and partner just at
a time when he needed assistance; but he could do no less than go away,
since he had been urged so peremptorily to do so, and, catching his pet
without much difficulty, he carried Mr. Stubbs's brother away from the
scene of the ruin he had caused.
Ben's remark, that the monkey had "broke the show all up," seemed to be
very near the truth; for the boys would not think of going on with so
small a number of animals; and, even if they decided to do without the
menagerie, Bob's calf had wrecked one side of the tent so completely
that that particular piece of canvas was past mending.
"I don't know what we'll do," said Toby, mournfully, after he had
finished telling the story to Aunt Olive. "The boys act as if they
blamed me, because Mr. Stubbs's brother is so bad, and Joe's squirrels
an' Bob's mice are all gone. Ben's hen don't look as if she'd ever
'mount to much, an' it don't seem to me that he can get Mrs. Simpson's
cat an' every one of the kittens out from under the barn."
"Now don't go to worryin' about that, Toby," said Aunt Olive, as she
patted him on the head, and gave him a large piece of cake at the same
time. "You can get a dozen cats for Mrs. Simpson if she wants 'em; and
as for mice, you tell Bob to set his trap out in the granary two or
three times, an' he'll have as many as he can take care of. I'm glad the
squirrels did get away, for it seems such a sin to shut them up in a
cage when they're so happy in the woods."
Toby was cheered by the very philosophical view that Aunt Olive took of
the affair, and came to the conclusion that matters were not more than
half so bad as they might have been.
"You be careful that your monkey don't get out again, an' go to cuttin'
up as he did last night, for I shall get provoked with him if he hurts
my ducks any more," and, with this bit of advice, Aunt Olive went
up-stairs to see Abner.
Toby went out to the shed to assure himself that Mr. Stubbs's brother
was tied so that he could not escape, and while he was there Uncle
Daniel came in with an armful of strips of board.
"There, Toby, boy," he said, as he laid them on the floor, and looked
around for the hammer and nails, "I'm going to build a pen for your
monkey right up here in one corner, so that we sha'n't be called up
again in the night by a false alarm of burglars. Besides, it's almost
time for school to begin again, an' I'm 'most too old to commence
chasing monkeys around the country in case he gets out while you're
away."
Had it been suggested the day before that Mr. Stubbs's brother was to be
shut up in a cage, Toby would have thought it a very great hardship for
his pet to endure; but the experience he had had in the last twenty-four
hours convinced him that the imprisonment was for the best.
He helped Uncle Daniel in his labor to such purpose that, when it was
time for him to go to the pasture, the cage was built, and Mr. Stubbs's
brother was in it, looking as if he considered himself a thoroughly
abused monkey, because he was not allowed to play just such pranks as
had roused the household as well as broken up the circus scheme.
On his way to the pasture, Toby met Joe, and the two had a long talk
about the disaster of the afternoon. Joe believed that the enterprise
must be abandoned--for that summer at least--as it would take them some
time to repair the damage done, and his short experience in the business
caused him to believe that they could hardly hope to compete with real
circuses until they had more material with which to work.
Joe promised to see the other partners that evening or the next morning;
and, if they were of the same opinion, the tent should be taken down and
returned to its owner.
"Perhaps we can fix it all right next year, an' then Abner will be
'round to help," said Toby, as he parted with Joe that night; and thus
was the circus project ended very sensibly, for the chances were that it
would have been a failure if they had attempted to give their
exhibition.
During that afternoon Toby had worried less about Abner than on any day
since he had been sick; he had felt that his friend's recovery was
certain, and a load was lifted from his shoulders when he and Joe had
decided regarding the circus; for, that out of the way, he could devote
all his attention to his sick friend. Surely, with the ponies and the
monkey they could have a great deal of sport during the two weeks that
yet remained before school would begin, and Toby felt thoroughly happy.
But his happiness was changed to alarm very soon after he entered the
house, for the doctor was there again, and, from the look on the faces
of Uncle Daniel and Aunt Olive, he knew Abner must be worse.
"What is it, Uncle Dan'l? is Abner any sicker?" he asked, with quivering
lip, as he looked up at the wrinkled face that ever wore a kindly look
for him.
Uncle Daniel laid his hand affectionately on the head of the boy, whom
he had cared for with the tenderness of a father since the day he
repented and asked forgiveness for having run away, and his voice
trembled as he said:
"It is very likely that the good God will take the crippled boy to
Himself to-night, Toby, and there in the heavenly mansions will he find
relief from all his pain and infirmities. Then the poor-farm boy will no
longer be an orphan or deformed, but, with his Almighty Father, will
enter into such joys as we can have no conception of."
"Oh, Uncle Dan'l! must Abner really die?" cried Toby, while the great
tears chased each other down his cheeks, and he hid his face on Uncle
Daniel's knee.
"He will die here, Toby, boy, but it is simply an awakening into a
perfect, glorious life, to which I pray that both you and I may be
prepared to go when our Father calls us."
For some time there was silence in the room, broken only by Toby's sobs;
and, while Uncle Daniel stroked the weeping boy's head, the great
white-winged messenger of God came into the chamber above, bearing away
with him the spirit of the poor-farm boy.
THE END