“Come right here,” said the lady, as she pointed to a seat by the side of a little girl who did not look any older than Toby; “the lady who usually occupies that seat will not be here tonight, and you can have it.”
“Thank you, ma'am,” said Toby, as he sat timidly down on the edge of the seat, hardly daring to sit back comfortably, and feeling very awkward meanwhile, but congratulating himself on being thus protected from the pouring rain.
The wagon started, and as each one talked with her neighbor, Toby felt a most dismal sense of loneliness, and almost wished that he was riding on the monkey cart with Ben, where he could have someone to talk with. He gradually pushed himself back into a more comfortable position, and had then an opportunity of seeing more plainly the young girl who rode by his side.
She was quite as young as Toby, and small of her age; but there was an old look about her face that made the boy think of her as being an old woman cut down to fit children's clothes. Toby had looked at her so earnestly that she observed him, and asked, “What is your name?”
“Toby Tyler.”
“What do you do in the circus?”
“Sell candy for Mr. Lord.”
“Oh! I thought you was a new member of the company.”
Toby knew by the tone of her voice that he had fallen considerably in her estimation by not being one of the performers, and it was some little time before he ventured to speak; and then he asked, timidly, “What do you do?”
“I ride one of the horses with mother.”