Toby Tyler; Or, Ten Weeks with a Circus

VII. AN ACCIDENT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES VII. AN ACCIDENT AND ITS CONSEQUENCES Toby's experience in the evening was very similar to that of the afternoon, save that he was so fortunate as not to take any more bad money in payment for his goods. Mr. Jacobs scolded and swore alternately, and the boy really surprised him by his way of selling goods, though he was very careful not to say anything about it, but made Toby believe that he was doing only about half as much work as he ought to do. Toby's private hoard of money was increased that evening, by presents, ninety cents, and he began to look upon himself as almost a rich man. When the performance was nearly over Mr. Jacobs called to him to help in packing up; and by the time the last spectator had left the tent the worldly possessions of Messrs. Lord and Jacobs were ready for removal, and Toby allowed to do as he had a mind to, so long as he was careful to be on hand when Old Ben was ready to start. Toby thought that he would have time to pay a visit to his friends the skeleton and the Fat Woman, and to that end started toward the place where their tent had been standing; but to his sorrow he found that it was already being taken down, and he had only time to thank Mrs. Treat and to press the fleshless hand of her shadowy husband as they entered their wagon to drive away. He was disappointed, for he had hoped to be able to speak with his new made friends a few moments before the weary night's ride commenced; but, failing in that, he went hastily back to the monkeys' cage. Old Ben was there, getting things ready for a start; but the wooden sides of the cage had not been put up, and Toby had no difficulty in calling the aged monkey up to the bars. He held one of the Fat Woman's doughnuts in his hand, and said, as he passed it through to the animal: “I thought perhaps you might be hungry, Mr. Stubbs, and this is some of what the skeleton's wife gave me. I hain't got very much time to talk with you now; but the first chance I can get away tomorrow, an' when there hain't anybody round, I want to tell you something.” The monkey had taken the doughnut in his handlike paws, and was tearing it to pieces, eating small portions of it very rapidly. “Don't hurry yourself,” said Toby, warningly, “for Uncle Dan'l always told me the worst thing a feller could do was to eat fast. If you want any more, after we start, just put your hand through the little hole up there near the seat, an' I'll give you all you want.” From the look on his face Toby confidently believed the monkey was about to make some reply; but just then Ben shut up the sides, separating Toby and Mr. Stubbs, and the order was given to start. Toby clambered up on to the high seat, Ben followed him, and in another instant the team was moving along slowly down the dusty road, preceded and followed by the many wagons, with their tiny swinging lights. “Well,” said Ben, when he had got his team well under way and felt that he could indulge in a little conversation, “how did you get along today?” Toby related all of his movements, and gave the driver a faithful account of all that had happened to him, concluding his story by saying, “That was one of Mrs. Treat's doughnuts that I just gave to Mr. Stubbs.” “To whom?” asked Ben, in surprise. “To Mr. Stubbs—the old fellow here in the cart, you know, that's been so good to me.” Toby heard a sort of gurgling sound, saw the driver's body sway back and forth in a trembling way, and was just becoming thoroughly alarmed, when he thought of the previous night, and understood that Ben was only laughing in his own peculiar way. “How did you know his name was Stubbs?” asked Ben, after he had recovered his breath. “Oh, I don't know that that is his real name,” was the quick reply; “I only call him that because he looks so much like a feller with that name that I knew at home. He don't seem to mind because I call him Stubbs.” Ben looked at Toby earnestly for a moment, acting all the time as if he wanted to laugh again, but didn't dare to, for fear he might burst a blood vessel; and then he said, as he patted him on the shoulder: “Well, you are the queerest little fish that I ever saw in all my travels. You seem to think that that monkey knows all you say to him.” “I'm sure he does,” said Toby, positively. “He don't say anything right out to me, but he knows everything I tell him. Do you suppose he could talk if he tried to?” “Look here, Mr. Toby Tyler”—and Ben turned half around in his seat and looked Toby full in the face, so as to give more emphasis to his words—“are you heathen enough to think that that monkey could talk if he wanted to?” “I know I hain't a heathen,” said Toby, thoughtfully, “for if I had been some of the missionaries would have found me out a good while ago; but I never saw anybody like this old Mr. Stubbs before, an' I thought he could talk if he wanted to, just as the Living Skeleton does, or his wife. Anyhow, Mr. Stubbs winked at me; an' how could he do that if he didn't know what I've been sayin' to him?” “Look here, my son,” said Ben, in a most fatherly fashion, “monkeys hain't anything but beasts, an' they don't know how to talk any more than they know what you say to 'em.” “Didn't you ever hear any of them speak a word?” “Never. I've been in a circus, man an' boy, nigh on to forty years, an' I never seen nothin' in a monkey more 'n any other beast, except their awful mischiefness.” “Well,” said Toby, still unconvinced, “I believe Mr. Stubbs knows what I say to him, anyway.” “Now don't be foolish, Toby,” pleaded Ben. “You can't show me one thing that a monkey ever did because you told him to.” Just at this moment Toby felt someone pulling at the back of his coat, and, looking round, he saw it was a little brown hand, reaching through the bars of the air hole of the cage, that was tugging away at his coat. “There!” he said, triumphantly, to Ben. “Look there! I told Mr. Stubbs if he wanted anything more to eat, to tell me an' I would give it to him. Now you can see for yourself that he's come for it.” And Toby took a doughnut from his pocket and put it into the tiny hand, which was immediately withdrawn. “Now what do you think of Mr. Stubbs knowing what I say to him?” “They often stick their paws up through there,” said Ben, in a matter of fact tone. “I've had 'em pull my coat in the night till they made me as nervous as ever any old woman was. You see, Toby my boy, monkeys is monkeys; an' you mustn't go to gettin' the idea that they're anything else, for it's a mistake. You think this old monkey in here knows what you say? Why, that's just the cuteness of the old fellow—he watches you to see if he can't do just as you do, an' that's all there is about it.” Toby was more than half convinced that Ben was putting the matter in its proper light, and he would have believed all that had been said if, just at that moment, he had not seen that brown hand reaching through the hole to clutch him again by the coat. The action seemed so natural, so like a hungry boy who gropes in the dark pantry for something to eat, that it would have taken more arguments than Ben had at his disposal to persuade Toby that his Mr. Stubbs could not understand all that was said to him. Toby put another doughnut in the outstretched hand, and then sat silently, as if in a brown study over some difficult problem. For some time the ride was continued in silence. Ben was going through all the motions of whistling without uttering a sound—a favorite amusement of his—and Toby's thoughts were far away in the humble home he had scorned, with Uncle Daniel, whose virtues had increased in his esteem with every mile of distance which had been put between them, and whose faults had decreased in a corresponding ratio. Toby's thoughtfulness had made him sleepy, and his eyes were almost closed in slumber, when he was startled by a crashing sound, was conscious of a feeling of being hurled from his seat by some great force, and then he lay senseless by the side of the road, while the wagon became a perfect wreck, from out of which a small army of monkeys was escaping. Ben's experienced ear had told him at the first crash that his wagon was breaking down, and, without having time to warn Toby of his peril, he had leaped clear of the wreck, keeping his horses under perfect control and thus averting more trouble. It was the breaking of one of the axles which Toby had heard just before he was thrown from his seat and when the body of the wagon came down upon the hard road. The monkeys, thus suddenly released from confinement, had scampered off in every direction, and by a singular chance Toby's aged friend started for the woods in such a direction as to bring him directly before the boy's insensible form. The monkey, on coming up to Toby, stopped, urged by the well known curiosity of its race, and began to examine the boy's person carefully, prying into pockets and trying to open the boy's half closed eyelids. Fortunately for Toby, he had fallen upon a mud bank and was only stunned for the moment, having received no serious bruises. The attentions bestowed upon him by the monkey served the purpose of bringing him to his senses; and, after he had looked around him in the gray light of the coming morning, it would have taken far more of a philosopher than Old Ben was to persuade the boy that monkeys did not possess reasoning faculties. The monkey was busy at Toby's ears, nose, and mouth, as monkeys will do when they get an opportunity, and the expression of its face was as grave as possible. Toby firmly believed that the monkey's face showed sorrow at his fall, and he imagined that the attentions which were bestowed upon him were for the purpose of learning whether he had been injured or not. “Don't worry, Mr. Stubbs,” said Toby, anxious to reassure his friend, as he sat upright and looked about him. “I didn't get hurt any; but I would like to know how I got way over here.” It really seemed as if the monkey was pleased to know that his little friend was not hurt, for he seated himself on his haunches, and his face expressed the liveliest pleasure that Toby was well again—or at least that was how the boy interpreted the look. By this time the news of the accident had been shouted ahead from one team to the other, and all hands were hurrying to the scene for the purpose of rendering aid. As Toby saw them coming he also saw a number of small forms, looking something like diminutive men, hurrying past him, and for the first time he understood how it was that the aged monkey was at liberty, and knew that those little dusky forms were the other occupants of the cage escaping to the woods. “See there, Mr. Stubbs! see there!” he exclaimed, pointing toward the fugitives; “they're all going off into the woods! What shall we do?” The sight of the runaways seemed to excite the old monkey quite as much as it did the boy. He sprang to his feet, chattering in the most excited way, screamed two or three times, as if he were calling them back, and then started off in vigorous pursuit. “Now he's gone too!” said Toby, disconsolately, believing the old fellow had run away from him. “I didn't think Mr. Stubbs would treat me this way!” VIII. CAPTURE OF THE MONKEYS The boy tried to rise to his feet, but his head whirled so, and he felt so dizzy and sick from the effects of his fall, that he was obliged to sit down again until he should feel able to stand. Meanwhile the crowd around the wagon paid no attention to him, and he lay there quietly enough, until he heard the hateful voice of Mr. Lord asking if his boy were hurt. The sound of his voice affected Toby very much as the chills and fever affect a sufferer, and he shook so with fear, and his heart beat so loudly, that he thought Mr. Lord must know where he was by the sound. Seeing, however, that his employer did not come directly toward him, the thought flashed upon his mind that now would be a good chance to run away, and he acted upon it at once. He rolled himself over in the mud until he reached a low growth of fir trees that skirted the road, and when beneath their friendly shade he rose to his feet and walked swiftly toward the woods, following the direction the monkeys had taken. He no longer felt dizzy and sick; the fear of Mr. Lord had dispelled all that, and he felt strong and active again. He had walked rapidly for some distance, and was nearly beyond the sound of the voices in the road, when he was startled by seeing quite a procession of figures emerge from the trees and come directly toward him. He could not understand the meaning of this strange company, and it so frightened him that he attempted to hide behind a tree, in the hope that they might pass without seeing him. But no sooner had he secreted himself than a strange, shrill chattering came from the foremost of the group, and in an instant Toby emerged from his place of concealment. He had recognized the peculiar sound as that of the old monkey who had left him a few moments before, and he knew now what he did not know then, owing to the darkness. The newcomers were the monkeys that had escaped from the cage, and had been overtaken and compelled to come back by the old monkey, who seemed to have the most perfect control over them. The old fellow was leading the band, and all were linked “hand in hand” with each other, which gave the whole crowd a most comical appearance as they came up to Toby, half hopping, half walking upright, and all chattering and screaming, like a crowd of children out for a holiday. Toby stepped toward the noisy crowd, held out his hand gravely to the old monkey, and said, in tones of heartfelt sorrow: “I felt awful bad because I thought you had gone off an' left me, when you went off to find the other fellows. You're awful good, Mr. Stubbs; an' now, instead of runnin' away, as I was goin' to do, we'll all go back together.” The old monkey grasped Toby's extended hand with his disengaged paw, and, clinging firmly to it, the whole crowd followed in unbroken line, chattering and scolding at the most furious rate, while every now and then Mr. Stubbs would look back and scream out something, which would cause the confusion to cease for an instant. It was really a comical sight, but Toby seemed to think it the most natural thing in the world that they should follow him in this manner, and he chattered to the old monkey quite as fast as any of the others were doing. He told him very gravely all that he knew about the accident, explained why it was that he conceived the idea of running away, and really believed that Mr. Stubbs understood every word he was saying. Very shortly after Toby had started to run away the proprietor of the circus drove up to the scene of disaster, and, after seeing that the wagon was being rapidly fixed up so that it could be hauled to the next town, he ordered that search should be made for the monkeys. It was very important that they should be captured at once, and he appeared to think more of the loss of the animals than of the damage done to the wagon. While the men were forming a plan for a search for the truants, so that in case of a capture they could let one another know, the noise made by Toby and his party was heard, and the men stood still to learn what it meant. The entire party burst into shouts of laughter as Toby and his companions walked into the circle of light formed by the glare of the lanterns, and the merriment was by no means abated at Toby's serious demeanor. The wagon was now standing upright, with the door open, and Toby therefore led his companions directly to it, gravely motioning them to enter. The old monkey, instead of obeying, stepped back to Toby's side, and screamed to the others in such a manner that they all entered the cage, leaving him on the outside with the boy. Toby motioned him to get in, too, but he clung to his hand, and scolded so furiously that it was apparent he had no idea of leaving his boy companion. One of the men stepped up and was about to force him into the wagon, when the proprietor ordered him to stop. “What boy is that?” he asked. “Job Lord's new boy,” said someone in the crowd. The man asked Toby how it was that he had succeeded in capturing all the runaways; and he answered, gravely: “Mr. Stubbs an' I are good friends, an' when he saw the others runnin' away he just stopped 'em an' brought 'em back to me. I wish you'd let Mr. Stubbs ride with me; we like each other a good deal.” “You can do just what you please with Mr. Stubbs, as you call him. I expected to lose half the monkeys in that cage, and you have brought back every one. That monkey shall be yours, and you may put him in the cage whenever you want to, or take him with you, just as you choose, for he belongs entirely to you.” Toby's joy knew no bounds; he put his arm around the monkey's neck, and the monkey clung firmly to him, until even Job Lord was touched at the evidence of affection between the two. While the wagon was being repaired Toby and the monkey stood hand in hand watching the work go on, while those in the cage scolded and raved because they had been induced to return to captivity. After a while the old monkey seated himself on Toby's arm and cuddled close up to him, uttering now and then a contented sort of a little squeak as the boy talked to him. That night Mr. Stubbs slept in Toby's arms, in the band wagon, and both boy and monkey appeared very well contented with their lot, which a short time previous had seemed so hard. When Toby awakened to his second day's work with the circus his monkey friend was seated by his side, gravely exploring his pockets, and all the boy's treasures were being spread out on the floor of the wagon by his side. Toby remonstrated with him on this breach of confidence, but Mr. Stubbs was more in the mood for sport than for grave conversation, and the more Toby talked the more mischievous did he become, until at length the boy gathered up his little store of treasures, took the monkey by the paw, and walked him toward the cage from which he had escaped on the previous night. “Now, Mr. Stubbs,” said Toby, speaking in an injured tone, “you must go in here and stay till I have got more time to fool with you.” He opened the door of the cage, but the monkey struggled as well as he was able, and Toby was obliged to exert all his strength to put him in. When once the door was fastened upon him Toby tried to impress upon his monkey friend's mind the importance of being more sedate, and he was convinced that the words had sunk deep into Mr. Stubbs's heart, for, by the time he had concluded, the old monkey was seated in the corner of the cage, looking up from under his shaggy eyebrows in the most reproachful manner possible. Toby felt sorry that he had spoken so harshly, and was about to make amends for his severity, when Mr. Lord's gruff voice recalled him to the fact that his time was not his own, and he therefore commenced his day's work, but with a lighter heart than he had had since he stole away from Uncle Daniel and Guilford. This day was not very much different from the preceding one so far as the manner of Mr. Lord and his partner toward the boy was concerned; they seemed to have an idea that he was doing only about half as much work as he ought to, and both united in swearing at and abusing him as much as possible. So far as his relations with other members of the company were concerned, Toby now stood in a much better position than before. Those who had witnessed the scene told the others how Toby had led in the monkeys on the night previous, and nearly every member of the company had a kind word for the little fellow whose head could hardly be seen above the counter of Messrs. Lord and Jacobs's booth. IX. THE DINNER PARTY At noon Toby was thoroughly tired out, for whenever anyone spoke kindly to him Mr. Lord seemed to take a malicious pleasure in giving him extra tasks to do, until Toby began to hope that no one else would pay any attention to him. On this day he was permitted to go to dinner first, and after he returned he was left in charge of the booth. Trade being dull—as it usually was during the dinner hour—he had very little work to do after he had cleaned the glasses and set things to rights generally. When, therefore, he saw the gaunt form of the skeleton emerge from his tent and come toward him he was particularly pleased, for he had begun to think very kindly of the thin man and his fleshy wife. “Well, Toby,” said the skeleton, as he came up to the booth, carefully dusted Mr. Lord's private chair, and sat down very cautiously in it, as if he expected that it would break down under his weight, “I hear you've been making quite a hero of yourself by capturing the monkeys last night.” Toby's freckled face reddened with pleasure as he heard these words, and he stammered out, with considerable difficulty, “I didn't do anything; it was Mr. Stubbs that brought 'em back.” “Mr. Stubbs!” And the skeleton laughed so heartily that Toby was afraid he would dislocate some of his thinly covered joints. “When you was tellin' about Mr. Stubbs yesterday I thought you meant someone belonging to the company. You ought to have seen my wife Lilly shake with laughing when I told her who Mr. Stubbs was!” “Yes,” said Toby, at a loss to know just what to say, “I should think she would shake when she laughs.” “She does,” replied the skeleton. “If you could see her when something funny strikes her you'd think she was one of those big plates of jelly that they have in the bakeshop windows.” And Mr. Treat looked proudly at the gaudy picture which represented his wife in all her monstrosity of flesh. “She's a great woman, Toby, an' she's got a great head.” Toby nodded his head in assent. He would have liked to say something nice regarding Mrs. Treat, but he really did not know what to say, so he simply contented himself and the fond husband by nodding. “She thinks a good deal of you, Toby,” continued the skeleton, as he moved his chair to a position more favorable for him to elevate his feet on the edge of the counter, and placed his handkerchief under him as a cushion; “she's talking of you all the time, and if you wasn't such a little fellow I should begin to be jealous of you—I should, upon my word.” “You're—both—very—good,” stammered Toby, so weighted down by a sense of the honor heaped upon him as to be at a loss for words. “An' she wants to see more of you. She made me come out here now, when she knew Mr. Lord would be away, to tell you that we're goin' to have a little kind of a friendly dinner in our tent tomorrow—she's cooked it all herself, or she's going to—and we want you to come in an' have some with us.” Toby's eyes glistened at the thought of the unexpected pleasure, and then his face grew sad as he replied, “I'd like to come first rate, Mr. Treat, but I don't s'pose Mr. Lord would let me stay away from the shop long enough.” “Why, you won't have any work to do tomorrow, Toby—it's Sunday.” “So it is!” said the boy, with a pleased smile, as he thought of the day of rest which was so near. And then he added, quickly: “An' this is Saturday afternoon. What fun the boys at home are havin'! You see, there hain't any school Saturday afternoon, an all the fellers go out in the woods.” “And you wish you were there to go with them, don't you?” asked the skeleton, sympathetically. “Indeed I do!” exclaimed Toby, quickly. “It's twice as good as any circus that ever was.” “But you didn't think so before you came with us, did you?” “I didn't know so much about circuses then as I do now,” replied the boy, sadly. Mr. Treat saw that he was touching on a sore subject, and one which was arousing sad thoughts in his little companion's mind, and he hastened to change it at once. “Then I can tell Lilly that you'll come, can I?” “Oh yes, I'll be sure to be there; an' I want you to know just how good I think you both are to me.” “That's all right, Toby,” said Mr. Treat, with a pleased expression on his face; “an' you may bring Mr. Stubbs with you, if you want.” “Thank you,” said Toby. “I'm sure Mr. Stubbs will be just as glad to come as I shall. But where will we be tomorrow?” “Right here. We always stay over Sunday at the place where we show Saturday. But I must be going, or Lilly will worry her life out of her for fear I'm somewhere getting cold. She's awful careful of me, that woman is. You'll be on hand tomorrow at one o'clock, won't you?” “Indeed I will,” said Toby, emphatically, “an' I'll bring Mr. Stubbs with me, too.” With a friendly nod of his head, the skeleton hurried away to reassure his wife that he was safe and well; and before he had hardly disappeared within the tent Toby had another caller, who was none other than his old friend Old Ben, the driver. “Well, my boy,” shouted Ben, in his cheery, hearty tones, “I haven't seen you since you left the wagon so sudden last night. Did you get shook up much?” “Oh no,” replied Toby. “You see I hain't very big; an' then I struck in the mud; so I got off pretty easy.” “That's a fact; an' you can thank your lucky stars for it, too, for I've seen grown up men get pitched off a wagon in that way an break their necks doin' it. But has Job told you where you was going to sleep tonight? You know we stay over here till tomorrow.” “I didn't think anything about that; but I s'pose I'll sleep in the wagon, won't I?” “You can sleep at the hotel, if you want to; but the beds will likely be dirty; an' if you take my advice you'll crawl into some of the wagons in the tent.” Ben then explained to him that, after his work was done that night, he would not be expected to report for duty until the time for starting on Sunday night, and concluded his remarks by saying: “Now you know what your rights are, an don't you let Job impose on you in any way. I'll be round here after you get through work, an' we'll bunk in somewhere together.” The arrival of Messrs. Lord and Jacobs put a stop to the conversation, and was the signal for Toby's time of trial. It seemed to him, and with good reason, that the chief delight these men had in life was to torment him, for neither ever spoke a pleasant word to him; and when one was not giving him some difficult work to do, or finding fault in some way, the other would be sure to do so; and Toby had very little comfort from the time he began work in the morning until he stopped at night. It was not until after the evening performance was over that Toby had a chance to speak with Mr. Stubbs, and then he was so tired that he simply took the old monkey from the cage, nestled him under his jacket, and lay down with him to sleep in the place which Old Ben had selected. When the morning came Mr. Stubbs aroused his young master at a much 'earlier hour than he would have awakened had he been left to himself, and the two went out for a short walk before breakfast. They went instinctively toward the woods; and when the shade of the trees was once reached, how the two reveled in their freedom! Mr. Stubbs climbed into the trees, swung himself from one to the other by means of his tail, gathered half ripe nuts, which he threw at his master, tried to catch the birds, and had a good time generally. Toby, stretched at full length on the mossy bank, watched the antics of his pet, laughing boisterously at times as Mr. Stubbs would do some one thing more comical than usual, and forgot there was in this world such a thing as a circus or such a man as Job Lord. It was to Toby a morning without a flaw, and he took no heed of the time, until the sound of the church bells warned him of the lateness of the hour, reminding him at the same time of where he should be—where he would be, if he were at home with Uncle Daniel. In the mean time the old monkey had been trying to attract his young master's attention, and, failing in his efforts, he came down from the tree, crept softly up to Toby, and nestled his head under the boy's arm. This little act of devotion seemed to cause Toby's grief to burst forth afresh, and, clasping the monkey around the neck, hugging him close to his bosom, he sobbed: “Oh, Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Stubbs, how lonesome we are! If we was only at Uncle Dan'l's we'd be the two happiest people in all this world. We could play on the hay, or go up to the pasture, or go down to the village; an' I'd work my fingers off if I could only be there just once more. It was wicked for me to run away, an' now I'm gettin' paid for it.” He hugged the monkey closely, swaying his body to and fro, and presenting a perfect picture of grief. The monkey, not knowing what to make of this changed mood, cowered whimperingly in his arms, looking up into his face, and licking the boy's hands whenever he had the opportunity. It was some time before Toby's grief exhausted itself; and then, still clasping the monkey, he hurried out of the woods toward the town and the now thoroughly hated circus tents. The clocks were just striking one as Toby entered the inclosure used by the show as a place of performance, and, remembering his engagement with the skeleton and his wife, he went directly to their tent. From the odors which assailed him as he entered, it was very evident that a feast of no mean proportions was in course of preparation, and Toby's keen appetite returned in full vigor. Even the monkey seemed affected by the odor, for he danced about on his master's shoulder, and chattered so that Toby was obliged to choke him a little in order to make him present a respectable appearance. When Toby reached the interior of the tent he was astonished at the extent of the preparations that were being made, and gazed around him in surprise. The platform on which the lean man and fat woman were in the habit of exhibiting themselves now bore a long table, loaded with eatables; and, from the fact that eight or ten chairs were ranged around it, Toby understood that he was not the only guest invited to the feast. Some little attempt had also been made at decoration by festooning that end of the tent where the platform was placed with two or three flags and some streamers, and the tent poles also were fringed with tissue paper of the brightest colors. Toby had only time enough to notice this when the skeleton advanced toward him, and, with the liveliest appearance of pleasure, said, as he took him by the hands with a grip that made him wince: “It gives me great joy, Mr. Tyler, to welcome you at one of our little home reunions, if one can call a tent, that is moved every day in the week, home.” Toby hardly knew whom Mr. Treat referred to when he said “Mr. Tyler”; but by the time his hands were released from the bony grasp he understood that it was himself who was spoken to. The skeleton then formally introduced him to the other guests present, who were sitting at one end of the tent, and evidently anxiously awaiting the coming feast. “These,” said Mr. Treat, as he waved his hand toward two white haired, pink eyed young ladies who sat with their arms twined around each other's waist, and had been eying the monkey with some appearance of fear, “are the Miss Cushings, known to the world as the Albino Children; they command a large salary and form a very attractive feature of our exhibition.” The young ladies arose at the same time, as if they had been the Siamese Twins and could not act independently of each other, and bowed. Toby made the best bow he was capable of; and the monkey made frantic efforts to escape, as if he would enjoy twisting his paws in their perpendicular hair. “And this,” continued Mr. Treat, pointing to a sickly, sour looking individual who was sitting apart from the others, with his arms folded, and looking as if he was counting the very seconds before the dinner should begin, “is the wonderful Signor Castro, whose sword swallowing feats you have doubtless heard of.” Toby stepped back just one step, as if overwhelmed by awe at beholding the signor in the guise of a humble individual; and the gentleman who gained his livelihood by swallowing swords unbent his dignity so far as to unfold his arms and present a very dirty looking hand for Toby to shake. The boy took hold of the outstretched hand, wondering why the signor never used soap and water; and Mr. Stubbs, apparently afraid of the sour looking man, retreated to Toby's shoulder, where he sat chattering and scolding about the introduction. Again the skeleton waved his hand, and this time he introduced “Mademoiselle Spelletti, the wonderful snake charmer, whose exploits in this country, and before the crowned heads of Europe had caused the whole world to stand aghast at her daring.” Mademoiselle Spelletti was a very ordinary looking young lady of about twenty-five years of age, who looked very much as if her name might originally have been Murphy, and she, too, extended a hand for Toby to grasp—only her hand was clean, and she appeared to be a very much more pleasant acquaintance than the gentleman who swallowed swords. This ended the introductions; and Toby was just looking around for a seat, when Mrs. Treat, the fat lady and the giver of the feast which was about to come, and which already smelled so invitingly, entered from behind a curtain of canvas, where the cooking stove was supposed to be located. She had every appearance of being the cook for the occasion. Her sleeves were rolled up, her hair tumbled and frowzy, and there were several unmistakable marks of grease on the front of her calico dress. She waited for no ceremony, but rushed up to Toby and, taking him in her arms, gave him such a squeeze that there seemed to be every possibility that she would break all the bones in his body; and she kept him so long in this bearlike embrace that Mr. Stubbs reached his little brown paws over and got such a hold of her hair that all present, save Signor Castro, rushed forward to release her from the monkey's grasp. “You dear little thing!” said Mrs. Treat, paying but slight attention to the hair pulling she had just undergone, and holding Toby at arm's length so that she could look into his face, “you were so late that I was afraid you wasn't coming; and my dinner wouldn't have tasted half so good if you hadn't been here to eat some.” Toby hardly knew what to say for this hearty welcome, and he managed to tell the large and kind hearted lady that he had had no idea of missing the dinner, and that he was very glad she wanted him to come. “Want you to come, you dear little thing!” she exclaimed, as she gave him another hug, but careful not to give Mr. Stubbs a chance of grasping her hair again. “Of course I wanted you to come, for this dinner has been got up so that you could meet these people here, and so that they could see you.” Toby was entirely at a loss to know what to say to this overwhelming compliment, and for that reason did not say anything, only submitting patiently to the third hug, which was all Mrs. Treat had time to give him, as she was obliged to rush behind the canvas screen again, as there were unmistakable sounds of something boiling over on the stove. “You'll excuse me,” said the skeleton, with an air of dignity, waving his hand once more toward the assembled company, “but while introducing you to Mr. Tyler I had almost forgotten to introduce him to you. This, ladies and gentlemen”—and here he touched Toby on the shoulder, as if he were some living curiosity whose habits and mode of capture he was about to explain to a party of spectators—“is Mr. Toby Tyler, of whom you heard on the night when the monkey cage was smashed, and who now carries with him the identical monkey which was presented to him by the manager of this great show as a token of esteem for his skill and bravery in capturing the entire lot of monkeys without a single blow.” By the time that Mr. Treat got through with his long speech Toby felt very much as if he were some wonderful creature whom the skeleton was exhibiting; but he managed to rise to his feet and duck his little red head in his best imitation of a bow. Then he sat down and hugged Mr. Stubbs to cover his confusion. One of the Albino Children now came forward, and, while stroking Mr. Stubbs's hair, looked so intently at Toby that for the life of him he couldn't say which she regarded as the curiosity, himself or the monkey; therefore he hastened to say, modestly: “I didn't do much toward catchin' the monkeys; Mr. Stubbs here did almost all of it, an' I only led 'em in. “There, there, my boy,” said the skeleton, in a fatherly tone, “I've heard the whole story from Old Ben, an' I sha'n't let you get out of it like that. We all know what you did, an' it's no use for you to deny any part of it.” X. MR. STUBBS AT A PARTY Toby was about to say that he did not intend to represent the matter other than it really was, when a voice from behind the canvas screen arrested further conversation. “Sam-u-el, come an' help me carry these things in.” Something very like a smile of satisfaction passed over Signor Castro's face as he heard this, which told him that the time for the feast was near at hand; and the snake charmer, as well as the Albino Children, seemed quite as much pleased as did the sword swallower. “You will excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” said the skeleton, in an important tone; “I must help Lilly, and then I shall have the pleasure of helping you to some of her cooking, which, if I do say it, that oughtn't, is as good as can be found in this entire country.” Then he, too, disappeared behind the canvas screen. Left alone, Toby looked at the ladies, and the ladies looked at him, in perfect silence, while the sword swallower grimly regarded them all, until Mr. Treat reappeared, bearing on a platter an immense turkey, as nicely browned as any Thanksgiving turkey Toby ever saw. Behind him came his fat wife, carrying several dishes, each of which emitted a most fragrant odor; and as these were placed upon the table the spirits of the sword swallower seemed to revive, and he smiled pleasantly; while even the ladies appeared animated by the sight and odor of the good things which they were to be called upon so soon to pass judgment. Several times did Mr. and Mrs. Treat bustle in and out from behind the screen, and each time they made some addition to that which was upon the table, until Toby began to fear that they would never finish, and the sword swallower seemed unable to restrain his impatience. At last the finishing touch had been put to the table, the last dish placed in position, and then, with a certain kind of grace, which no one but a man as thin as Mr. Treat could assume, he advanced to the edge of the platform and said: “Ladies and gentlemen, nothing gives me greater pleasure than to invite you all, including Mr. Tyler's friend Stubbs, to the bountiful repast which my Lilly has prepared for—” At this point Mr. Treat's speech—for it certainly seemed as if he had commenced to make one—was broken off in a most summary manner. His wife had come up behind him and, with as much ease as if he had been a child, lifted him from off the floor and placed him gently in the chair at the head of the table. “Come right up and get dinner,” she said to her guests. “If you had waited until Samuel had finished his speech everything on the table would have been stone cold.” The guests proceeded to obey her kindly command; and it is to be regretted that the sword swallower had no better manners than to jump on to the platform with one bound and seat himself at the table with the most unseemly haste. The others, and more especially Toby, proceeded in a leisurely and more dignified manner. A seat had been placed by the side of the one intended for Toby for the accommodation of Mr. Stubbs, who suffered a napkin to be tied under his chin, and behaved generally in a manner that gladdened the heart of his young master. Mr. Treat cut generous slices from the turkey for each guest, and Mrs. Treat piled their plates high with all sorts of vegetables, complaining, after the manner of housewives generally, that the food was not cooked as she would like to have had it, and declaring that she had had poor luck with everything that morning, when she firmly believed in her heart that her table had never looked better. After the company had had the edge taken off their appetites—which effect was produced on the sword swallower only after he had been helped three different times, the conversation began by the fat woman asking Toby how he got along with Mr. Lord. Toby could not give a very good account of his employer, but he had the good sense not to cast a damper on a party of pleasure by reciting his own troubles; so he said, evasively: “I guess I shall get along pretty well, now that I have got so many friends.” Just as he had commenced to speak the skeleton had put into his mouth a very large piece of turkey—very much larger in proportion than himself—and when Toby had finished speaking he started to say something evidently not very complimentary to Mr. Lord. But what it was the company never knew; for just as he opened his mouth to speak, the food went down the wrong way, his face became a bright purple, and it was quite evident that he was choking. Toby was alarmed, and sprang from his chair to assist his friend, upsetting Mr. Stubbs from his seat, causing him to scamper up the tent pole, with the napkin still tied around his neck, and to scold in his most vehement manner. Before Toby could reach the skeleton, however, the fat woman had darted toward her lean husband, caught him by the arm, and was pounding his back, by the time Toby got there, so vigorously that the boy was afraid her enormous hand would go through his tissue paper like frame. “I wouldn't,” said Toby, in alarm; “you may break him.” “Don't you get frightened,” said Mrs. Treat, turning her husband completely over, and still continuing the drumming process. “He's often taken this way; he's such a glutton that he'd try to swallow the turkey whole if he could get it in his mouth, an' he's so thin that 'most anything sticks in his throat.” “I should think you'd break him all up,” said Toby, apologetically, as he resumed his seat at the table; “he don't look as if he could stand very much of that sort of thing.” But apparently Mr. Treat could stand very much more than Toby gave him credit for, because at this juncture he stopped coughing, and his face fast assumed its natural hue. His attentive wife, seeing that he had ceased struggling, lifted him in her arms and sat him down in his chair with a force that threatened to snap his head off. “There!” she said, as he wheezed a little from the effects of the shock, “now see if you can behave yourself an' chew your meat as you ought to! One of these days when you're alone you'll try that game, and that 'll be the last of you.” “If he'd try to do one of my tricks long enough he'd get so that there wouldn't hardly anything choke him,” the sword swallower ventured to suggest, mildly, as he wiped a small stream of cranberry sauce from his chin and laid a well polished turkey bone by the side of his plate. “I'd like to see him try it!” said the fat lady, with just a shade of anger in her voice. Then turning toward her husband, she said, emphatically, “Samuel, don't you ever let me catch you swallowing a sword!” “I won't, my love, I won't; and I will try to chew my meat more,” replied the very thin glutton, in a feeble tone. Toby thought that perhaps the skeleton might keep the first part of that promise, but he was not quite sure about the last. It required no little coaxing on the part of both Toby and Mrs. Treat to induce Mr. Stubbs to come down from his lofty perch; but the task was accomplished at last, and by the gift of a very large doughnut he was induced to resume his seat at the table. The time had now come when the duties of a host, in his own peculiar way of viewing them, devolved upon Mr. Treat, and he said, as he pushed his chair back a short distance from the table and tried to polish the front of his vest with his napkin: “I don't want this fact lost sight of, because it is an important one: everyone must remember that we have gathered here to meet and become better acquainted with the latest and best addition to this circus, Mr. Toby Tyler.” Poor Toby! As the company all looked directly at him, and Mrs. Treat nodded her enormous head energetically, as if to say that she agreed exactly with her husband, the poor boy's face grew very red and the squash pie lost its flavor. “Although Mr. Tyler may not be exactly one of us, owing to the fact that he does not belong to the profession, but is only one of the adjuncts to it, so to speak,” continued the skeleton, in a voice which was fast being raised to its highest pitch, “we feel proud, after his exploits at the time of the accident, to have him with us, and gladly welcome him now, through the medium of this little feast prepared by my Lilly.” Here the Albino Children nodded their heads in approval, and the sword swallower gave a grunt of assent; and, thus encouraged, the skeleton proceeded: “I feel, when I say that we like and admire Mr. Tyler, all present will agree with me and all would like to hear him say a word for himself.” The skeleton seemed to have expressed the views of those present remarkably well, judging from their expressions of pleasure and assent, and all waited for the honored guest to speak. Toby knew that he must say something, but he couldn't think of a single thing; he tried over and over again to call to his mind something which he had read as to how people acted and what they said when they were expected to speak at a dinner table, but his thoughts refused to go back for him, and the silence was actually becoming painful. Finally, and with the greatest effort, he managed to say, with a very perceptible stammer, and while his face was growing very red: “I know I ought to say something to pay for this big dinner that you said was gotten up for me, but I don't know what to say, unless to thank you for it. You see, I hain't big enough to say much, an', as Uncle Dan'l says, I don't amount to very much, 'cept for eatin', an' I guess he's right. You're all real good to me, an' when I get to be a man I'll try to do as much for you.” Toby had risen to his feet when he began to make his speech, and while he was speaking Mr. Stubbs had crawled over into his chair. When he finished he sat down again without looking behind him, and of course sat plump on the monkey. There was a loud outcry from Mr. Stubbs, a little frightened noise from Toby, an instant's scrambling, and then boy, monkey, and chair tumbled off the platform, landing on the ground in an indescribable mass, from which the monkey extricated himself more quickly than Toby could, and again took refuge on the top of the tent pole. Of course all the guests ran to Toby's assistance; and while the fat woman poked him all over to see that none of his bones were broken, the skeleton brushed the dirt from his clothes. All this time the monkey screamed, yelled, and danced around on the tent pole and ropes, as if his feelings had received a shock from which he could never recover. “I didn't mean to end it up that way, but it was Mr. Stubbs's fault,” said Toby, as soon as quiet had been restored and the guests, with the exception of the monkey, were seated at the table once more. “Of course you didn't,” said Mrs. Treat, in a kindly tone. “But don't you feel bad about it one bit, for you ought to thank your lucky stars that you didn't break any of your bones.” “I s'pose I had,” said Toby, soberly, as he looked back at the scene of his disaster, and then up at the chattering monkey that had caused all the trouble. Shortly after this, Mr. Stubbs having again been coaxed down from his lofty position, Toby took his departure, promising to call as often during the week as he could get away from his exacting employers. Just outside the tent he met Old Ben, who said, as he showed signs of indulging in another of his internal laughing spells: “Hello! has the skeleton an' his lily of a wife been givin' a blowout to you, too?” “They invited me in there to dinner,” said Toby, modestly. “Of course they did—of course they did,” replied Ben, with a chuckle; “they carries a cookin' stove along with 'em, so's they can give these little spreads whenever we stay over a day in a place. Oh, I've been there!” “And did they ask you to make a speech?” “Of course. Did they try it on you?” “Yes,” said Toby, mournfully, “an' I tumbled off the platform when I got through.” “I didn't do exactly that,” replied Ben, thoughtfully; “but I s'pose you got too much steam on, seein' 's how it was likely your first speech. Now you'd better go into the tent an try to get a little sleep, 'cause we've got a long ride tonight over a rough road, an' you won't get more 'n a cat nap all night.” “But where are you going?” asked Toby, as he shifted Mr. Stubbs over to his other shoulder, preparatory to following his friend's advice. “I'm goin' to church,” said Ben, and then Toby noticed for the first time that the old driver had made some attempt at dressing up. “I've been with the circus, man an boy, for nigh to forty years, an' I allus go to meetin' once on Sunday. It's somethin' I promised my old mother I would do, an' I hain't broke my promise yet.” “Why don't you take me with you?” asked Toby, wistfully, as he thought of the little church on the hill at home, and wished—oh, so earnestly!—that he was there then, even at the risk of being thumped on the head with Uncle Daniel's book. “If I'd seen you this mornin' I would,” said Ben; “but now you must try to bottle up some sleep ag'in' tonight, an' next Sunday I'll take you.” With these words Old Ben started off, and Toby proceeded to carry out his wishes, although he rather doubted the possibility of “bottling up” any sleep that afternoon. He lay down on the top of the wagon, after having put Mr. Stubbs inside, with the others of his tribe, and in a very few moments the boy was sound asleep, dreaming of a dinner party at which Mr. Stubbs made a speech and he himself scampered up and down the tent pole.

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