| vol. iii.—no. 139. | Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. | price four cents. |
| Tuesday, June 27, 1882. | Copyright, 1882, by Harper & Brothers. | $1.50 per Year, in Advance. |
UNROLLING THE SCHOONER'S SAILS.
MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER.[1]
BY JAMES OTIS.
Chapter XIII.
THE RESULTS OF LONG TRAINING.
Mr. Stubbs's brother had been a close observer of all that was going on, with a view probably to guarding 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 toward 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 fellow 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," 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 cozy 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 practice 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 toward 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 as 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 ain'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 ain'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.