Kitabı oku: «Mr. Stubbs's Brother», sayfa 6

"He's been rubbin' goose-grease all over him for as much as two weeks, an' he can bend almost any way," whispered Reddy to Toby, as Ben stood swinging his arms at the entrance to the ring, as if limbering himself for the work to be done.

Leander started "Yankee Doodle" in slow and solemn strains; Ben gathered himself for a mighty effort, and began to go around the ring in a series of hand-springs in true acrobatic style.

Chapter XIII
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.

Chapter XIV
RAISING THE TENT

Toby went into the house, feeling rather uneasy because he had not been called; but when Aunt Olive told him that Abner had aroused from his slumber but twice, and then only for a moment, he had no idea of being worried about his friend, although he did think it a little singular he should sleep so long.

That evening Dr. Abbot called again, although he had been there once before that day; and when Toby saw how troubled Uncle Daniel and Aunt Olive looked after he had gone, he asked;

"You don't think Abner is goin' to be sick, do you?"

Uncle Daniel made no reply, and Aunt Olive did not speak for some moments; then she said:

"I am afraid he stayed out too long this morning; but the doctor hopes he will be better to-morrow."

If Toby had not been so busily engaged planning for Abner to see the work next day, he would have noticed that the sick boy was not left alone for more than a few moments at a time, and that both Uncle Daniel and Aunt Olive seemed to have agreed not to say anything discouraging to him regarding his friend's illness.

When he went to bed that night, he fancied Uncle Daniel's voice trembled, as he said:

"May the good God guard and spare you to me, Toby, boy;" but he gave no particular thought to the matter, and the sandman threw dust in his eyes very soon after his head was on the pillow.

In the morning his first question was regarding Abner, and then he was told that his friend was not nearly so well as he had been; Aunt Olive even said that Toby had better not go into the sick-room, for fear of disturbing the invalid.

"Go on with your play by yourself, Toby, boy, and that will be a great deal better than trying to have Abner join you, until he is much better," said Uncle Daniel, kindly.

"But hain't he goin' to have a ride this mornin'?"

"No, he is not well enough to get up. You go on building your tent, and you will be so near the house that you can be called at any moment, if Abner asks for you."

Toby was considerably disturbed by the fact that he was not allowed to see his friend, and by the way Uncle Daniel spoke; but he went out to the barn where his partners were already waiting for him, feeling all the more sad now because of his elation the day before.

He had no heart for the work, and, after telling the boys that Abner was sick again, proposed to postpone operations until he should get better; but they insisted that as they were so near the house, it would be as well to go on with the work as to remain idle, and Toby could offer no argument to the contrary.

Although he did quite as much towards the putting-up of the tent as the others did, it was plain to be seen that he had lost his interest in anything of the kind, and at least once every half-hour he ran into the house to learn how the sick boy was getting on.

All of Aunt Olive's replies were the same: Abner slept a good portion of the time, and during the few moments he was awake said nothing, except in answer to questions. He did not complain of any pain, nor did he appear to take any notice of what was going on around him.

"I think it's because he got all tired out yesterday, an' that he'll be himself again to-morrow," said Aunt Olive, after Toby had come in for at least the sixth time, and she saw how worried he was.

This hopeful remark restored Toby to something very near his usual good spirits; and when he went back to his work after that, his partners were pleased to see him take more interest in what was going on.

The tent was up firmly enough to resist any moderate amount of wind, but it did not look quite so neat as it would have done had it not been necessary to perform the operation of "tucking in" one end, which made that side hang in folds that were by no means a pleasing addition to the general appearance.

The small door of the barn, over which the tent was placed, served instead of a curtain to their dressing-room; and at one side of it, on an upturned barrel, arrangements were made for a band-stand.

Mr. Mansfield's flag covered the one end completely, and all the boys thought it gave a better appearance to the whole than if they had made it wholly of canvas.

The ring, which Reddy marked out almost before the tent was up, occupied nearly the whole of the interior; but since they did not intend to have any seats for their audience, it was thought there would be plenty of room for all who would come to see them. The main point was to have the ring, and to have it as nearly like that of a regular circus as possible, while the audience could be trusted to take care of itself.

The animals to be exhibited were to be placed in small cages at each corner. Reddy had at first insisted that each cage should be on a cart to make it look well; but he gave up that idea when Bob pointed out to him that six mice or two squirrels would make rather a small show in a wagon, and that they would be obliged to enlarge their tent if they carried out that plan, even provided they could get the necessary number of carts, which was very doubtful.

In the matter of getting sheets from their mothers they had not been as successful as they had anticipated. No one of the ladies who had been spoken to on the subject was willing to have her bed-linen decorating the interior of a circus-tent, even though the show was to be only a little one for three cents.

Reddy was quite sure he could mend one or two of the largest holes if he had a darning-needle and some twine; but after he got both from Aunt Olive, and stuck the needle twice in his own hand, once in Joe Robinson's, and then broke it, he concluded that it would be just as well to paste brown paper over the holes.

It was a hard job to dig the ground up in order to make as large a ring as the boys had marked out, but by persistent work it was accomplished, as almost everything can be; and then Ben went to practising, in order that he might, as he expressed it, "get the hang of the thing."

Of course, the fact that a tent had been put up by the side of Uncle Daniel's barn was soon known to every boy in the village, and the rush of visitors that afternoon was so great that Joe was obliged to begin his duties as door-keeper in advance, in order to keep back the crowd.

The number of questions asked by each boy who arrived kept Joe so busy answering them that, after every one in town knew exactly what was going on, Reddy hit upon the happy plan of getting a large piece of paper, and painting on it an announcement of their exhibition.

It was while he was absent in search of the necessary materials with which to carry out this work that the finishing touches were put on the interior; and the partners were counting the number of hand-springs Ben could turn without stopping, when a great shout arose from the visitors outside, and the circus owners heard a pattering and scratching on the canvas above their heads.

"Mr. Stubbs's brother has got loose, an' he's tearin' 'round on the tent!" shouted Joe, as he poked his head in through a hole in the flag, and at the same time struggled to keep back a small but bold boy with his foot.

Toby, followed by the other proprietors, rushed out at this alarming bit of news, and, sure enough, there was the monkey dancing around on the top of the tent like a crazy person, while the rope with which he had been tied dangled from his neck.

It seemed to Toby that no other monkey could possibly behave half so badly as did Mr. Stubbs's brother on that occasion. He danced back and forth from one end of the tent to the other, as if he had been a tight-rope performer giving a free exhibition; then he would sit down and try to find out just how large a hole he could tear in the tender canvas, until it seemed as if the tent would certainly be a wreck before they could get him down.

Toby coaxed and scolded, and scolded and coaxed, but all to no purpose. The monkey would clamber down over the end of the tent as if he were about to allow himself to be made a prisoner, and then, just as Toby was about to catch the rope, he would spring upon the ridge-pole again, chattering with joy at the disappointment he had caused.

The visitors fairly roared with delight, and even the proprietors, whose borrowed property was being destroyed, could not help laughing at times, although there was not one of them who would not have enjoyed punishing Mr. Stubbs's brother very severely.

"He'll break the whole show up if we don't get him off," said Bob, as the monkey tore a larger hole than he had yet made, and the crowd encouraged him in his mischievous work by their wild cheers.

"I know it; but how can we get him down?" asked Toby, in perplexity, knowing that it would not be safe for any one of them to climb upon the decayed canvas, even if there were a chance that the monkey would wait for them to catch him after they got there.

"Get a long pole, an' scrape him off," suggested Joe; but Toby shook his head, for he knew that to "scrape" a monkey from such a place would be an impossibility.

Bob had an idea that if he had a rope long enough to make a lasso, he could get it around the animal's neck and pull him down; but just as he set out to find the rope, Mr. Stubbs's brother settled the matter himself.

He had torn one hole fully five inches long, and commenced on another a short distance from the first, when the thin fabric gave way, the two rents were made one, and down fell Mr. Monkey, only saved from falling to the ground by his chin catching on the edges of the cloth.

There he hung, his little round head just showing above the canvas, with a bewildered, and, at the same time, discouraged look on his face.

Toby knew that it would be but a moment before the monkey would get his paws out from under the canvas, and thus extricate himself from his uncomfortable position. Running quickly inside the tent, he seized Mr. Stubbs's brother by his long tail, pulling him completely through, and the mischievous pet was again a prisoner.

It was a great disappointment to the boys on the outside when this portion of the circus was hidden from view; but it was equally as great a relief to the partners that the destruction of their tent was at last averted.

After the excitement had nearly subsided, and Toby was reading his pet a lesson on the sin of destructiveness, Reddy arrived with the materials for making his circus poster – a sheet of brown paper, a bottle of ink, and a brush made by chewing the end of a pine stick.

He began his work at once. It was a long task, but was at last accomplished, and when the partners went to their respective homes that night, the following placard adorned one side of the tent: