Toby Tyler; Or, Ten Weeks with a Circus. Otis James
over some rock or sink deep in some rut, till Toby, the breath very nearly shaken out of his body, and his neck almost dislocated, would sit bolt upright, clinging to the seat with both hands, as if he expected each moment to be pitched out into the mud.
The driver watched him closely, and each time that he saw him shaken up and awakened so thoroughly he would indulge in one of his silent laughing spells, until Toby would wonder whether he would ever recover from it. Several times had Toby been awakened, and each time he had seen the amusement his sufferings caused, until he finally resolved to put an end to the sport by keeping awake.
“What is your name?” he asked of the driver, thinking a conversation would be the best way to rouse himself into wakefulness.
“Waal,” said the driver, as he gathered the reins carefully in one hand, and seemed to be debating in his mind how he should answer the question, “I don't know as I know myself, it's been so long since I've heard it.”
Toby was wide enough awake now, as this rather singular problem was forced upon his mind. He revolved the matter silently for some moments, and at last he asked, “What do folks call you when they want to speak to you?”
“They always call me Old Ben, an' I've got so used to the name that I don't need any other.”
Toby wanted very much to ask more questions, but he wisely concluded that it would not be agreeable to his companion.
“I'll ask the old man about it,” said Toby to himself, referring to the aged monkey, whom he seemed to feel acquainted with; “he most likely knows, if he'll say anything.”
After this the conversation ceased, until Toby again ventured to suggest, “It's a pretty long drive, hain't it?”
“You want to wait till you've been in this business a year or two,” said Ben, sagely, “an' then you won't think much of it. Why, I've known the show towns to be thirty miles apart, an' them was the times when we had lively work of it. Riding all night and working all day kind of wears on a fellow.”
“Yes, I s'pose so,” said Toby, with a sigh, as he wondered whether he had got to work as hard as that; “but I s'pose you get all you want to eat, don't you?”
“Now you've struck it!” said Ben, with the air of one about to impart a world of wisdom, as he crossed one leg over the other, that his position might be as comfortable as possible while he was initiating his young companion into the mysteries of the life. “I've had all the boys ride with me since I've been with this show, an' I've tried to start them right; but they didn't seem to profit by it, an' always got sick of the show an' run away, just because they didn't look out for themselves as they ought to. Now listen to me, Toby, an' remember what I say. You see they put us all in a hotel together, an' some of these places where we go don't have any too much stuff on the table. Whenever we strike a new town you find out at the hotel what time they have the grub ready, an' you be on hand, so's to get in with the first. Eat all you can, an' fill your pockets.”
“If that's all a feller has to do to travel with a circus,” said Toby, “I'm just the one, 'cause I always used to do just that when I hadn't any idea of bein' a circus man.”
“Then you'll get along all right,” said Ben, as he checked the speed of his horses and, looking carefully ahead, said, as he guided his team to one side of the road, “This is as far as we're going tonight.”
Toby learned that they were within a couple of miles of the town, and that the entire procession would remain by the roadside until time to make the grand entree into the village, when every wagon, horse, and man would be decked out in the most gorgeous array, as they had been when they entered Guilford.
Under Ben's direction he wrapped himself in an old horse blanket, and lay down on the top of the wagon; and he was so tired from the excitement of the day and night that he had hardly stretched out at full length before he was fast asleep.
IV. THE FIRST DAY WITH THE CIRCUS
When Toby awakened and looked around he could hardly realize where he was or bow he came there. As far ahead and behind on the road as he could see the carts were drawn up on one side; men were hurrying to and fro, orders were being shouted, and everything showed that the entry into the town was about to be made. Directly opposite the wagon on which he had been sleeping were the four elephants and two camels, and close behind, contentedly munching their breakfasts, were a number of tiny ponies. Troops of horses were being groomed and attended to; the road was littered with saddles, flags, and general decorations, until it seemed to Toby that there must have been a smash up, and that he now beheld ruins rather than systematic disorder.
How different everything looked now, compared to the time when the cavalcade marched into Guilford, dazzling everyone with the gorgeous display! Then the horses pranced gayly under their gaudy decorations, the wagons were bright with glass, gilt, and flags, the lumbering elephants and awkward camels were covered with fancifully embroidered velvets, and even the drivers of the wagons were resplendent in their uniforms of scarlet and gold. Now, in the gray light of the early morning, everything was changed. The horses were tired and muddy, and wore old and dirty harness; the gilded chariots were covered with mud bespattered canvas, which caused them to look like the most ordinary of market wagons; the elephants and camels looked dingy, dirty, almost repulsive; and the drivers were only a sleepy looking set of men, who, in their shirt sleeves, were getting ready for the change which would dazzle the eyes of the inhabitants of the town.
Toby descended from his lofty bed, rubbed his eyes to thoroughly awaken himself, and, under the guidance of Ben, went to a little brook near by and washed his face. He had been with the circus not quite ten hours, but now he could not realize that it had ever seemed bright and beautiful. He missed his comfortable bed, the quiet and cleanliness, and the well spread table; even although he had felt the lack of parents' care, Uncle Daniel's home seemed the very abode of love and friendly feeling compared with this condition, where no one appeared to care even enough for him to scold at him. He was thoroughly homesick, and heartily wished that he was back in his old native town.
While he was washing his face in the brook he saw some of the boys who had come out from the town to catch the first glimpse of the circus, and he saw at once that he was the object of their admiring gaze. He heard one of the boys say, when they first discovered him:
“There's one of them, an' he's only a little feller; so I'm going to talk to him.”
The evident admiration which the boys had for Toby pleased him, and this pleasure was the only drop of comfort he had had since he started. He hoped they would come and talk with him; and, that they might have the opportunity, he was purposely slow in making his toilet.
The boys approached him shyly, as if they had their doubts whether he was made of the same material as themselves, and when they got quite near to him and satisfied themselves that he was only washing his face in much the same way that any well regulated boy would do, the one who had called attention to him said, half timidly, “Hello!”
“Hello!” responded Toby, in a tone that was meant to invite confidence.
“Do you belong to the circus?”
“Yes,” said Toby, a little doubtfully.
Then the boys stared at him again as if he were one of the strange looking animals, and the one who had been the spokesman drew a long breath of envy as he said, longingly, “My! what a nice time you must have!”
Toby remembered that only yesterday he himself had thought that boys must have a nice time with a circus, and he now felt what a mistake that thought was; but he concluded that he would not undeceive his new acquaintance.
“And do they give you frogs to eat, so's to make you limber?”
This was the first time that Toby had thought of breakfast,