A Young Hero; Or, Fighting to Win

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

As the afternoon approached, the crowds began streaming into Tottenville, and the sight was a stirring one, with the band of music inside, the shouts of the peddlers on the outside, and the general confusion and expectancy on the part of all.

The doors were open early, for, as is always the case, the multitude were ahead of time, and were clamoring for admission.

As may be supposed, the boys were among the earliest, and the little fellows who had suffered at the hands of the cruel Bud Heyland forgot all their miseries in the delight of the entertainment.

On this special occasion Fred had rolled down his trousers and wore a pair of shoes, although most of his playmates preferred no covering at all for their brown, expanding feet.

The "performance," as the circus portion was called, did not begin until two o'clock, so that more than an hour was at the disposal of the visitors in which to inspect the animals.

These were found to be much less awe-inspiring than they were pictured on the flaming posters and on the sides of their cages. The hippopotamus, which was represented as crushing a large boat, containing several men, in his jaws, was taken for a small, queer-looking pig, as it was partly seen in the tank, while the grizzly bear, the "Monarch of the Western Wilds," who had slain any number of men before capture, did not look any more formidable than a common dog.

The chief interest of Fred and two or three of his young friends centered around the cage containing the Numidian lion. He was of pretty fair size, looked very fierce, and strode majestically back and forth in his narrow quarters, now and then giving vent to a cavernous growl, which, although not very pleasant to hear, was not so appalling by any means as some travelers declare it to be.

Most of the boys soon went to the cage of monkeys, whose funny antics kept them in a continual roar; but Fred and Joe Hunt, who were about the same age, seemed never to tire of watching the king of beasts.

"Come, move on there; you've been gaping long enough, and it's time other folks had a chance."

It was Bud Heyland, who had yielded his position on the outside for a few minutes to one of the men, and had come in to look around. He raised his whip in a threatening manner, but did not let it descend.