When the morning came, Mr. Stubbs aroused his young master at a much earlier hour than he would have awakened had he been left to himself, and the two went out for a short walk before breakfast. They went instinctively toward the woods, and when the shade of the trees was once reached, how the two revelled in their freedom! Mr. Stubbs climbed into the trees, swung himself from one to the other by means of his tail, gathered half-ripe nuts, which he threw at his master, tried to catch the birds, and had a good time generally.
Toby, stretched at full length on the mossy bank, watched the antics of his pet, laughing boisterously at times as Mr. Stubbs would do some one thing more comical than usual, and forgot there was in this world such a thing as a circus, or such a man as Job Lord. It was to Toby a morning without a flaw, and he took no heed of the time, until the sound of the church bells warned him of the lateness of the hour, reminding him at the same time of where he should be—where he would be if he was at home with Uncle Daniel.
In the mean time the old monkey had been trying to attract his young master's attention, and, failing in his efforts, he came down from out the tree, crept softly up to Toby, and nestled his head under the boy's arm.
This little act of devotion seemed to cause Toby's grief to burst forth afresh, and clasping the monkey around the neck, hugging him close to his bosom, he sobbed:
"Oh, Mr. Stubbs, Mr. Stubbs, how lonesome we are! If we was only at Uncle Daniel's, we'd be the two happiest people in all this world. We could play on the hay, or go up to the pasture, or go down to the village, an' I'd work my fingers off if I could only be there just once more. It was wicked for me to run away, an' now I'm gettin' paid for it."
He hugged the monkey closely, swayed his body to and fro, presenting a perfect picture of grief. The monkey, not knowing what to make of this changed mood, cowered whimperingly in his arms, looking up into his face, and licking the boy's hands with his tongue whenever he had the opportunity.
It was some time before Toby's grief exhausted itself, and then, still clasping the monkey, he hurried out of the woods to the town and the now thoroughly hated circus tents.
The clocks were just striking one as Toby entered the inclosure used by the show as a place of performance, and, remembering his engagement with the skeleton and his wife, he went directly to their tent. From the odors which assailed him as he entered, it was quite evident that a feast of no mean proportions was in course of preparation, and Toby's very great appetite came to him in full vigor. Even the monkey seemed affected by the odor, for he danced about on his master's shoulder, and chattered so that Toby was obliged to choke him a little in order to make him present a respectable appearance.
When Toby reached the interior of the tent, he was astonished at the extent of the preparations that were being made, and gazed around him in surprise. The platform on which the lean man and fat woman were in the habit of exhibiting themselves now bore a long table, loaded with eatables; and from the fact that eight or ten chairs were ranged around it, Toby understood that he was not the only guest at the feast. Some little attempt had also been made at decoration by festooning that end of the tent at which the platform was placed with two or three flags and some streamers, and the tent poles were fringed with tissue-paper of the brightest colors.
Toby had had only time enough to notice this, when the skeleton advanced toward him, and with the liveliest appearance of pleasure, said, as he took him by the hands with a grip that made him wince,