The pictures of these different animals, performing their several exploits, caused a great deal of wonder and admiration among the village boys and girls. In cities, where such exhibitions occur very frequently, such things would not be much thought of. But it is very different in the country, where public exhibitions of every sort are "like angels' visits, few and far between." For nearly a week before the day appointed for this juggling exhibition, there was nothing talked of in this quiet village so much as the "show." Ninepences that had been a twelvemonth in accumulating, were now in great demand; and more than one boy sighed as he reflected that he had spent his pennies in candies and other nice things, so that he had none left for the "show," and secretly resolved that he would be wiser next time, and not allow his money to slip through his fingers so easily.
Among those who had the permission of their parents to visit the exhibition, and who were anxiously longing for the day to come, were Julian Parmelee and his sister. Julian, especially—a boy of about nine years of age—was almost crazy with delight, when his mother told him he might go. He jumped, danced, clapped his hands, shouted, and went through so many strange manoeuvres, that his elder brother George, who was rather more sober on the occasion, said he guessed he should not go to the court-house and pay ninepence to see the show, for he was in a fair way to get the exhibition at home, for nothing.
"Oh, mother!" said Julian, "do you really believe the bear will stand on his head? What a funny sight it must be! I wonder if they keep the bear chained. I shall take care I do not get within reach of his paws, I guess. Charley Staples said he didn't believe it was half so big as the one he saw when he was up in Vermont. How big is it, mother? as big as our Carlo? Oh, I wish it was time to go now! I should think monkeys were very funny creatures. They say there is one in the show that rides a horse, just like a man. Ha! ha! ha!" And he laughed so loudly that he waked up the baby in the cradle.
I do not wonder at all that little Julian was so much delighted with the idea of going to this exhibition. It was something entirely new to him; and to children, especially, such singular feats as these animals were to perform, are always entertaining. It may, however, admit of a question, whether it is right, just for our amusement, to inflict so much pain upon these poor creatures as is necessary to teach them their several parts. It seems rather cruel. You know what the frogs once said to the boys, according to the fable, in the matter of stoning: "Young gentlemen, you do not consider, that while this is sport to you, it is death to us." These poor bears, and monkeys, and other animals, while they are going through their education, might use some such language to their teachers, perhaps, if they had the same faculty that the fable ascribes to the frogs. But, however that may be, it was very natural that Julian should be half frantic at the thought of seeing the show, and quite as natural that Julian's father and mother should consent to let him go.
Well, some two days before the exhibition was to take place, Julian was taken sick. There is a class of diseases—such as the measles and the whooping-cough—which, you know, almost every boy and girl must have some time or another; and it is not always left with the children to decide precisely when they shall take their turn. One of these diseases had made Julian a call, and insisted on staying with him a week or two. It was the whooping-cough. Julian wanted to be excused for a few days; but the old fellow told him, in his wheezing way, that he could not think of letting him off so long. Julian was disappointed, and cried a good deal. It did seem rather hard that he must be caged up in his chamber just at this time. He was not so sick as to make it necessary to stay at home; but his mother thought it would be wrong to allow him to go where there were to be so many other children, because they would be in danger of taking the disease from him. So it was decided that he could not see the "show;" and he fretted and stormed, and made himself very unhappy. He was usually a good-natured boy, but it must be confessed, that he was now quite out of humor.
"I don't see what I'm sick for, just when I wanted to go to the 'show.' I declare, it is too bad. And the whooping-cough, too! If it was any thing else, I could go. What under the sun—"
"There, Julian, that will do, I think," said his mother, kindly.
Julian checked himself, but he could hardly help muttering something about its being "very provoking."
Mrs Parmelee was silent for a while, until the peevishness of her child had a little time to subside, and then she said—
"My dear child, I am sorry that you should feel so; for you not only make yourself unhappy, but you are finding fault with God, and you know that is very wrong. God had something to do with your sickness. He could very easily have prevented it, if he had chosen to do so. But he did not choose to prevent it, and—"