Toby Tyler; Or, Ten Weeks with a Circus. Otis James
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the circus with; but he said a cent was all he could spare these hard times, an' I'd better take that an' buy something to eat with it, for the show wasn't very good, anyway. I wish peanuts wasn't but a cent a bushel.”
“Then you would make yourself sick eating them.”
“Yes, I s'pose I should; Uncle Dan'l says I'd eat till I was sick, if I got the chance; but I'd like to try it once.”
He was a very small boy, with a round head covered with short red hair, a face as speckled as any turkey's egg, but thoroughly good natured looking; and as he sat there on the rather sharp point of the rock, swaying his body to and fro as he hugged his knees with his hands, and kept his eyes fastened on the tempting display of good things before him, it would have been a very hard hearted man who would not have given him something.
But Mr. Job Lord, the proprietor of the booth, was a hard hearted man, and he did not make the slightest advance toward offering the little fellow anything.
Toby rocked himself silently for a moment, and then he said, hesitatingly, “I don't suppose you'd like to sell me some things, an' let me pay you when I get older, would you?”
Mr. Lord shook his head decidedly at this proposition.
“I didn't s'pose you would,” said Toby, quickly; “but you didn't seem to be selling anything, an' I thought I'd just see what you'd say about it.” And then he appeared suddenly to see something wonderfully interesting behind him, which served as an excuse to turn his reddening face away.
“I suppose your uncle Daniel makes you work for your living, don't he?” asked Mr. Lord, after he had rearranged his stock of candy and had added a couple of slices of lemon peel to what was popularly supposed to be lemonade.
“That's what I think; but he says that all the work I do wouldn't pay for the meal that one chicken would eat, an' I s'pose it's so, for I don't like to work as well as a feller without any father and mother ought to. I don't know why it is, but I guess it's because I take up so much time eatin' that it kinder tires me out. I s'pose you go into the circus whenever you want to, don't you?”
“Oh yes; I'm there at every performance, for I keep the stand under the big canvas as well as this one out here.”
There was a great big sigh from out Toby's little round stomach, as he thought what bliss it must be to own all those good things and to see the circus wherever it went.
“It must be nice,” he said, as he faced the booth and its hard visaged proprietor once more.
“How would you like it?” asked Mr. Lord, patronizingly, as he looked Toby over in a business way, very much as if he contemplated purchasing him.
“Like it!” echoed Toby. “Why, I'd grow fat on it!”
“I don't know as that would be any advantage,” continued Mr. Lord, reflectively, “for it strikes me that you're about as fat now as a boy of your age ought to be. But I've a great mind to give you a chance.”
“What!” cried Toby, in amazement, and his eyes opened to their widest extent as this possible opportunity of leading a delightful life presented itself.
“Yes, I've a great mind to give you the chance. You see,” and now it was Mr. Lord's turn to grow confidential, “I've had a boy with me this season, but he cleared out at the last town, and I'm running the business alone now.”
Toby's face expressed all the contempt he felt for the boy who would run away from such a glorious life as Mr. Lord's assistant must lead; but he said not a word, waiting in breathless expectation for the offer which he now felt certain would be made him.
“Now I ain't hard on a boy,” continued Mr. Lord, still confidentially, “and yet that one seemed to think that he was treated worse and made to work harder than any boy in the world.”
“He ought to live with Uncle Dan'l a week,” said Toby, eagerly.
“Here I was just like a father to him,” said Mr. Lord, paying no attention to the interruption, “and I gave him his board and lodging, and a dollar a week besides.”
“Could he do what he wanted to with the dollar?”
“Of course he could. I never checked him, no matter how extravagant he was, an' yet I've seen him spend his whole week's wages at this very stand in one afternoon. And even after his money had all gone that way, I've paid for peppermint and ginger out of my own pocket just to cure his stomach ache.”
Toby shook his head mournfully, as if deploring that depravity which could cause a boy to run away from such a tender hearted employer and from such a desirable position. But even as he shook his head so sadly he looked wistfully at the peanuts, and Mr. Lord observed the look.
It may have been that Mr. Job Lord was the tender hearted man he prided himself upon being, or it may have been that he wished to purchase Toby's sympathy; but, at all events, he gave him a large handful of nuts, and Toby never bothered his little round head as to what motive prompted the gift. Now he could listen to the story of the boy's treachery and eat at the same time; therefore he was an attentive listener.
“All in the world that boy had to do,” continued Mr. Lord, in the same injured tone he had previously used, “was to help me set things to rights when we struck a town in the morning, and then tend to the counter till we left the town at night, and all the rest of the time he had to himself. Yet that boy was ungrateful enough to run away.”
Mr. Lord paused, as if expecting some expression of sympathy from his listener; but Toby was so busily engaged with his unexpected feast, and his mouth was so full, that it did not seem even possible for him to shake his head.
“Now what should you say if I told you that you looked to me like a boy that was made especially to help run a candy counter at a circus, and if I offered the place to you?”
Toby made one frantic effort to swallow the very large mouthful, and in a choking voice he answered, quickly, “I should say I'd go with you, an' be mighty glad of the chance.”
“Then it's a bargain, my boy, and you shall leave town with me tonight.”
II. TOBY RUNS AWAY FROM HOME
Toby could scarcely restrain himself at the prospect of this golden future that had so suddenly opened before him. He tried to express his gratitude, but could only do so by evincing his willingness to commence work at once.
“No, no, that won't do,” said Mr. Lord, cautiously. “If your uncle Daniel should see you working here, he might mistrust something, and then you couldn't get away.”
“I don't believe he'd try to stop me,” said Toby, confidently; “for he's told me lots of times that it was a sorry day for him when he found me.”
“We won't take any chances, my son,” was the reply, in a very benevolent tone, as he patted Toby on the head and at the same time handed him a piece of pasteboard. “There's a ticket for the circus, and you come around to see me about ten o'clock tonight. I'll put you on one of the wagons, and by' tomorrow morning your uncle Daniel will have hard work to find you.”
If Toby had followed his inclinations, the chances are that he would have fallen on his knees and kissed Mr. Lord's hands in the excess of his gratitude. But not knowing exactly how such a show of thankfulness might be received, he contented himself by repeatedly promising that he would be punctual to the time and place appointed.
He would have loitered in the vicinity of the candy stand in order that he might gain some insight into the business; but Mr. Lord advised him to remain away, lest his uncle Daniel would see him, and suspect where he had gone when he was missed in the morning.
As Toby walked around the circus grounds, whereon