“It's allus like this in the end,” he murmured, as he drew a piece of canvas over the white face and turned away to give orders to the men who were beginning to load the “props” used earlier in the performance.
When the show moved on that night it was Jim's strong arms that lifted the mite of a Polly close to his stalwart heart, and climbed with her to the high seat on the head wagon. Uncle Toby was entrusted with the brown satchel in which the mother had always carried Polly's scanty wardrobe. It seemed to these two men that the eyes of the woman were fixed steadily upon them.
Barker, the manager, a large, noisy, good-natured fellow, at first mumbled something about the kid being “excess baggage,” but his objections were only half-hearted, for like the others, he was already under the hypnotic spell of the baby's round, confiding eyes, and he eventually contented himself with an occasional reprimand to Toby, who was now sometimes late on his cues. Polly wondered, at these times, why the old man's stories were so suddenly cut short just as she was so “comfy” in the soft grass at his feet. The boys who used to “look sharp” because of their boss at loading time, now learned that they might loiter so long as “Muvver Jim” was “hikin' it round for the kid.” It was Polly who had dubbed big Jim “Muvver,” and the sobriquet had stuck to him in spite of his six feet two, and shoulders that an athlete might have envied. Little by little, Toby grew more stooped and small lines of anxiety crept into the brownish circles beneath Jim's eyes, the lips that had once shut so firmly became tender and tremulous, but neither of the men would willingly have gone back to the old emptiness.
It was a red letter day in the circus, when Polly first managed to climb up on the pole of an unhitched wagon and from there to the back of a friendly, Shetland pony. Jim and Toby had been “neglectin' her eddication” they declared, and from that time on, the blood of Polly's ancestors was given full encouragement.
Barker was quick to grasp the advantage of adding the kid to the daily parade. She made her first appearance in the streets upon something very like a Newfoundland dog, guarded from the rear by Jim, and from the fore by a white-faced clown who was thought to be all the funnier because he twisted his neck so much.
From the street parade to Polly's first appearance in the “big top,” had seemed a short while to Jim and Toby. They were proud to see her circling the ring in bright colours and to hear the cheers of the people, but a sense of loss was upon them.
“I always said she'd do it,” cried Barker, who now took upon himself the credit of Polly's triumph.
And what a triumph it was!
Polly danced as serenely on Bingo's back as she might have done on the “concert boards.” She swayed gracefully with the music. Her tiny sandals twinkled as she stood first upon one foot and then upon the other.
Uncle Toby forgot to use many of his tricks that night; and Jim left the loading of the wagons to take care of itself, while he hovered near the entrance, anxious and breathless. The performers crowded around the girl with outstretched hands and congratulations, as she came out of the ring to cheers and applause.