Reddy had made a remarkably large whip, which he could snap once out of every three attempts, and not hit himself on the head more than once out of five.
Thus the circus project was as promising as ever, and Abner, as well as the other partners, had urged Toby to take hold of it again; but he had made no promises until the day came when Abner was able to sit up, and Dr. Abbott said that he could go out for a ride in another week if he still continued to improve.
Then it was that Toby told his partners he would meet them on the first day Abner went out for a ride, and tell them when he would take up the circus work again, which made every one more anxious than ever to see the poor-farm boy out-of-doors.
From the time when the tiny little carriage and the two sets of harness glistening with silver had come, Toby had been anxious for a drive with the ponies; but he had resolutely refused to use them until Abner could go with him, although Uncle Daniel had told him he could try them whenever he wished. He had waited for his other pleasures until Abner could join him, and he insisted on waiting for this one. One day, when Aunt Olive spoke to him about it, he said:
"If I was sick, an' had such a team sent to me, I'd feel kinder bad to have some other boy using it, an' so I'm goin' to let Abner be the first one to go out with the ponies."
It was hard not even to get into the little carriage that was so carefully covered with a white cloth in the stable; but he resisted the temptation, and when at last the day did come that Aunt Olive and Uncle Daniel helped the sick boy down-stairs, and lifted him into the prettiest little pony-carriage ever seen in Guilford, Toby felt amply rewarded for his self-denial.
They drove all over the town, stopping now and then to speak with some of their friends, or to answer questions as to Abner's health. When it was nearly time to return home, Toby turned the ponies' heads toward the pasture, where he knew his partners were waiting for him according to agreement.
"We'll go on with the circus now," he said to Abner, "for I can take you with me in this team, an' you can stay in it all the time we're practicin', so's it'll be 'most as good as if you could do something toward it yourself."
Abner was quietly happy; the tender, thoughtful care that had been bestowed upon him since his mishap had been such as, in his mind at least, repaid him for all the pain.
"I hope you will have it," he said, earnestly, "for even if I can't be with you all the time, I won't feel as if I was keepin' you from it."