Harper's Young People, May 9, 1882 An Illustrated Weekly

Toby could not wait for that particular team to come up, even though it was driven at a reasonably rapid speed; but he started toward it as fast as he could run. After him, something like the tail of a comet, followed all his friends, who, having come so far, were determined not to lose sight of him for a single instant, if it could be prevented by any exertion on their part. Old Ben was driving in a sleepy sort of way, and paid no attention to the little fellow who was running toward him, until Toby shouted. Then the horses were stopped with a jerk that nearly threw them back on their haunches.

"Well, Toby my son, I declare I am glad to see you;" and old Ben reached down for the double purpose of shaking hands and helping the boy up to the seat beside him. "Well, well, well, it's been some time since you've been on this 'ere box, ain't it? I'd kinder forgotten what town it was we took you from; I knew it was somewhere hereabouts, though, an' I've kept my eye peeled for you ever since we've been in this part of the country. So you found your uncle Dan'l all right, did you?"

"Yes, Ben, an' he was awful good to me when I got home; but Mr. Stubbs got shot."

"No? you don't tell me! How did that happen?"

Then Toby told the story of his pet's death, and although it had occurred a year before, he could not keep the tears from his eyes as he spoke of it.

"You mustn't feel bad 'bout it, Toby," said Ben, consolingly, "for, you see, monkeys has got to die jest like folks, an' your Stubbs was sich a old feller that I reckon he'd have died anyhow before long. But I've got one in the wagon here that looks a good deal like yours, an' I'll show him to you."

As Ben spoke, he drew his wagon, now completely surrounded by boys, up by the side of the road near the others, and opened the panel in the top so that Toby could have a view of his passengers.

Curled up in the corner nearest the roof, where Mr. Stubbs had been in the habit of sitting, Toby saw, as Ben had said, a monkey that looked remarkably like Mr. Stubbs, save that he was younger and not so sedate.

Toby uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy as he pushed his hand through the bars of the cage, and the monkey shook hands with him as Mr. Stubbs used to do when greeted in the morning.

"Why, I never knew before that Mr. Stubbs had any relations!" said Toby, looking around with joy imprinted on every feature. "Do you know where the rest of the family is, Ben?"

There was no reply from the driver for some time; but instead, Toby heard certain familiar sounds as if the old man were choking, while his face took on the purplish tinge which had so alarmed the boy when he saw it for the first time.

"No, I don't know where his family is," said Ben, after he had recovered from his spasm of silent laughter, "an' I reckon he don't know nor care. Say, Toby, you don't really think this one is any relation to your monkey, do you?"

"Why, it must be his brother," said Toby, earnestly, "'cause they look so much alike; but perhaps Mr. Stubbs was only his cousin."

Old Ben relapsed into another spasm, and Toby talked to the monkey, who chattered back at him, until the boys on the ground were in a perfect ferment of anxiety to know what was going on.

It was some time before Toby could be persuaded to pay attention to anything else, so engrossed was he with Mr. Stubbs's brother, as he persisted in calling the monkey, and the only way Ben could engage him in conversation was by saying:

"You don't seem to be very much afraid of Job Lord now."

"You won't let him take me away if he should try, will you?" Toby asked, quickly, alarmed at the very mention of his former employer's name, even though he had thought he would not be afraid of him, protected as he now was by Uncle Daniel.

"No, Toby, I wouldn't let him if he was to try it on, for you are just where every boy ought to be, an' that's at home; but Job's where he can't whip any more boys for some time to come."

"Where's that?"

"He's in jail. About a month after you left he licked his new boy so bad that they arrested him, an' he got two years for it, 'cause it pretty nigh made a cripple out of the youngster."

Toby was about to make some reply; but Ben continued unfolding his budget of news.

"Castle staid with us till the season was over, an' then he went out West. I don't know whether he got his hair cut trying to show the Injuns how to ride, or not; but he never come back, an' nobody I ever saw has heard anything about him."

"Are Mr. and Mrs. Treat with the show?"

"Yes, they're still here; he's a leetle thinner, I believe, an' she's twenty pound heavier. She says she weighs fifty pounds more'n she did; but I don't believe that, even if she did strike for five dollars more a week this season on the strength of it, an' get it. They keep right on cookin' up dinners, an' invitin' of folks in, an' the skeleton gets choked about the same as when you was with the show. I don't know how it is that a feller so thin as Treat is can eat so much."

"Uncle Dan'l says it's 'cause he works so hard to get full," said Toby, quietly; "an' I shouldn't wonder if I grew as thin as the skeleton one of these days, for I eat jest as awful much as I used to."

"Well, you look as if you got about all you needed, at any rate," said Ben, as he mentally compared the plump boy at his side with the thin, frightened-looking one who had run away from the circus with his monkey on his shoulder and his bundle under his arm.

"Is Ella here?" asked Toby, after a pause, during which it seemed as if he were thinking of much the same thing that Ben was.

"Yes, an' she 'keeps talkin' about what big cards you an' her would have been if you had only staid with the show. But I'm glad you had pluck enough to run away, Toby, for a life like this ain't no fit one for boys."

"And I was glad to get back to Uncle Dan'l," said Toby, with a great deal of emphasis. "I wouldn't go away, without he wanted me to, if I could go with a circus seven times as large as this. Do you suppose young Stubbs would act bad if I was to take him for a walk?"

"Who?" asked Ben, looking down at the crowd of boys with no slight show of perplexity.

"Mr. Stubbs's brother," and Toby motioned to the door of the cage. "I'd like to take him up in my arms, cause it would seem so much like it used to before his brother died."

Ben was seized with one of the very worst laughing spasms Toby had ever seen, and there was every danger that he would roll off the seat before he could control himself; but he did recover after a time, and as the purple hue slowly receded from his face, he said:

"I'll tell you what we'll do, Toby. You come to the tent when the afternoon performance is over, an' I'll fix it so's you shall see Mr. Stubbs's brother as much as you want to."

Just then Toby remembered that Ben was to be his guest for a while that day, and after explaining all Aunt Olive had done in the way of preparing dainties, invited him to dinner.

"I'll come, Toby, because it's to see you an' them that has been good to you," said Ben, slowly, and after quite a long pause: "but there ain't anybody else I know of who could coax me out to dinner, for, you see, rough fellows like me ain't fit to go around much, except among our own kind. But say, Toby, your uncle Dan'l ain't right on his speech, is he?"

Toby looked so puzzled that Ben saw he had not been understood, and he explained:

"I mean, he don't get up a dinner for the sake of havin' a chance to make a speech, like the skeleton, does he, eh?"

"Oh no, Uncle Dan'l don't do that. I know you'll like him when you see him."

"And I believe I shall, Toby," said Ben, speaking very seriously. "I'd be sure to, because he's such a good uncle to you."

Just then the conversation was interrupted by the orders to prepare for the parade; and as the manager drove up to see that everything was done properly, he stopped to speak with and congratulate Toby on being at home again, a condescension on his part that caused a lively feeling of envy in the breasts of the other boys because they had not been so honored.