Lebbeus Mitchell - The Circus Comes to Town

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"Ole Danny dumb-head! Blue-eyed beauty! Ole Danny dumb-head! Blue-eyed
beauty!" chanted Darn, thrusting his face between two palings of the
fence and sticking out his tongue.

Then Danny picked up a board and, flanked by Chris, advanced to the
fence, whereat Darn took to his heels, shouting, "Blue-eyed beauty! Ole
Danny dumb-head!" as loud as he could.

At the end of the alley he turned and shouted,

"A pants' leg for an el'funt's tail! Oh, my gorry!"

When he disappeared from sight, the three boys surveyed the elephant's
skin lying on the ground.

"Let's not play any more," said Danny.

"I'm tired of the ole circus, anyway," replied Chris.

They went into the house, Jerry slowly following them. Even he could not
'maginary the old green wrapper and the stuffed brown coat sleeve and
blue trouser leg into an elephant any more.

CHAPTER VI

THE CHILDREN THAT CRIED IN THE LANE

The days slipped by and none of the children played circus again. Jerry
thought of it often and would have liked to be the elephant just once,
but he never said anything. That made him dream all the more about the
real circus which was coming and wish that he could see it. He was very
careful not to put his longing into words, so he wouldn't remind Mother
'Larkey of the ends that wouldn't meet and make her feel badly. One day
she came across the old green wrapper elephant skin in the woodshed.

"Why don't you children play circus any more?" she asked Danny.

"El'funts don't look like that," he asserted, pointing disdainfully at
the discarded costume. "Their tails are small like a rope."

"Are they now?" she asked. "And how might you be after knowing that?"

"National history says so," Danny replied in a very decisive tone.

Mrs. Mullarkey gave one of those low, fleeting laughs that always made
Jerry feel so good inside and which had become so rare of late. "Yes, I
guess national history would be after telling about the elephant's tail
as long as it deals with elephants and eagles and donkeys and camels and
all."

Jerry felt there must be something funny in what Mother 'Larkey said,
because her nose went all crinkly, and he smiled in sympathy anyway,
although he didn't understand.

But playing circus no longer appealed to the Mullarkey children. Darn
Darner had had a blighting influence on the power of their imaginations,
and Danny in the elephant costume would have been to them now only a
little boy in an old green wrapper much too large for him, dragging
about a stuffed blue trouser leg for a tail,--a very ridiculous
spectacle. Jerry realized that there would never be a next time and that
he would never play the elephant.

A few days before the circus was to come to town Jerry and the
Mullarkey children were returning from the woods by the creek, where
they had gone to see what the prospects were for a good yield of hazel
and hickory nuts in the fall, and had just entered the edge of town when
they saw Darn Darner approaching. They had not set eyes on him since the
day he broke up their circus and they were doubtful as to how he would
behave towards them.

"Just pretend as though nothing had never happened," Nora suggested.

"Yes, that's best," Danny agreed. "Let him speak first."

They watched Darn's nearer approach without seeming to do so. They tried
to keep talking and laughing so he wouldn't think they were the least
little bit afraid of him, but Jerry and Celia Jane first fell silent and
then Chris and Nora, and finally Danny, so that when they met Darn they
were as quiet and subdued as a funeral party.

"Hello!" said Darn, as they were in the act of passing. "Where you kids
been?"

"Hullo, Darn," replied Danny. "We just been out in the woods."

"There's goin' to be lots of hazelnuts in the fall," Nora informed him,
in a voice which she tried to make genial.

"And hickory nuts too," added Jerry, feeling that such good news would
help keep Darn in his present state of good humor and from thinking
about what had happened at their circus.

"That don't interest me much just now," Darn remarked. "I'm goin' to the
circus. We're goin' to have reserved seats, a dollar and a half apiece.
There ain't no better to be had."

"A dollar an' a half for one seat!" exclaimed Celia Jane. "I thought it
cost only fifty cents to see the circus."

"That's just to get in and set on an ole board without any back to it,"
Darn informed her. "We're goin' to have reserved seats in the boxes,
with chairs to sit on."

"A fifty-cent seat would suit me all right," observed Danny.

"An' me, too," echoed Chris and Nora and Celia Jane and Jerry.

"Are you kids goin' to see the circus unload?" asked Darn.

"Will they let you get close enough to see?" questioned Danny in turn.

"Of course. They can't keep you from lookin', I guess."

"No, I guess not." Danny answered his own question as though it had been
asked by Chris. "Anybody knows he could look."

"Could you see the el'funt?" Jerry asked timidly.

"You could if you had eyes," replied Darn loftily.

"Where're they goin' to unload?" Danny queried.

"On the sidetrack by Smith's house, just back of the depot, at five
o'clock in the morning. I'm goin' to see them unload."

"So'm I!" cried Danny.

"An' me, too!" asserted Chris.

"An' me, too!" Jerry hurried to make that statement so that Danny could
not say he couldn't go because he had not chosen to go when there was a
chance.

"No, you're not," Darn asserted with a sudden frown.

"I am, too!" cried Jerry. Then after a moment he asked plaintively, "Why
ain't I?"

"I guess you ain't got nothin' to say about whether Jerry goes or not,"
Danny interposed quickly. "He can go if he wants to."

"No, he can't," contradicted Darn.

"Why can't he?" Nora asked.

"They don't let anybody in the poor farm go to the circus," was Darn's
unexpected reply.

"That's not got nothin' to do with Jerry!" cried Danny hotly. "I guess
he ain't in no poor farm."

"He's goin' to be, though," pursued Darn calmly, in that restrained,
superior, informative manner which sometimes can be so maddening.

"I ain't either, am I, Danny?" Jerry appealed dolefully.

"No, you ain't," Danny assured him. "Darn's jest tryin' to make you cry.
Don't you let him scare you."

"Jerry Elbow's goin' to the poor farm before the circus gets here,"
stated Darn.

"I ain't!" cried Jerry in a shaky voice. "I won't go! So there!"

"They'll take you," Darn informed him, "and you won't have anything to
say about it."

"Mother 'Larkey won't let them take me, will she, Danny?" asked Jerry in
a voice that was becoming shrill and high from fear.

"No, she won't," asserted Danny. "Darn Darner, you jest let Jerry be.
You ain't got no right to scare a orfum boy like that."

"We won't let them take you," comforted Celia Jane, suddenly
affectionate, and put her arm about Jerry's neck.

Darn stepped directly in front of Jerry and stared coolly down at him
until Jerry was so uncomfortable that he couldn't raise his eyes from
the ground.

"You're goin' to the poor farm Wednesday morning," he said calmly,
"because Mrs. Mullarkey's too poor to keep you any longer. She can't
make enough to keep her own kids."

Jerry felt suddenly very little and all alone in a big cold world. Fear
had entered his heart. He felt that Mrs. Mullarkey not only hadn't been
able to make both ends meet but that she was never going to be able to
do it. He some way knew that Darn Darner was telling the truth and that
soon he would be torn away from the only home he could remember. His
lips twisted and he felt the hot tears filling his eyes. Yet he denied
Darn's statement with all his soul.

"They won't! They shan't take me! I'll run away first!"

"Much good that would do you," commented Darn unsympathetically. "It'd
be easy enough to find you."

"How do you know they're goin' to take Jerry away?" asked Chris.

"He don't know it!" cried Nora. "He's jest tryin' to scare us."

"No, I ain't," denied Darn. "My father's overseer of the poor in this
county and I guess I heard him tell mamma last night that he was goin'
to take Jerry to the poor farm Wednesday morning. He said Mrs. Mullarkey
had agreed as to how she'd hafta let him take Jerry because her
insurance money from Mr. Mullarkey was all gone and she couldn't make
enough to support her own kids."

"It ain't so!" blustered Jerry, but all the time terribly frightened. He
tried to think of something to say that would show he was not afraid of
Darn Darner, who was always picking on little boys.

"You shan't go!" Celia Jane cried, tears running down her cheeks. She
flung both arms around Jerry's neck and squeezed him passionately.

"What will Kathleen do without Jerry?" asked Nora in a choked voice.

Jerry looked up and saw that she was quietly weeping, too. They believed
it! Believed that Mother 'Larkey would let them take him away! He had
been somewhat comforted by their stout assertions that Darn's words were
false, but now--!

He was stunned. Then his lips twisted and twitched and the tears that
had been forming in his eyes spilled silently over.

"Don't get scared, Jerry," Danny tried to comfort him. Then he turned to
the tormentor. "_Darn_ you, Darn, why can't you let him be!"

There it was! Just what Jerry wanted to show Darn he couldn't scare him.
His oozing courage flamed up in a final flare of desperation. Through
his tears and the choke in his throat he cried:

"_Darn_ Darn Darner! Darn! Darn! Darn! _Darn_ Darn Darner!"

"That's about enough from you, Jerry Elbow!" shouted Darn. He gave Jerry
a resounding slap in the face. "No kid like you can call me that without
takin' the biggest lickin' he ever got."

"No, you don't!" cried Danny and quick as a flash he rushed at Darn and
began pounding him over the head and shoulders with his fists. Chris and
Nora went to Danny's aid and the three pairs of fists caused Darn to
duck and run a short distance.

Jerry slumped down into the dust of the road, weeping bitterly, and
Celia Jane flopped down by him, hugging him tight and mingling her tears
with his.

Danny and Chris and even the usually gentle Nora, but for once with all
her gentleness vanished, gave vent to their feelings against Darn by
making a chant out of his name.

"_Darn_ Darn Darner! Darn! Darn! Darn! _Darn_ Darn Darner! Darn! Darn!
Darn!"

Into that chant boiled over all their pent-up dislike for him which had
been simmering under cover for so long. Darn started back towards them,
angry through and through, but stopped as they rushed to meet him, fists
doubled up ready for battle. He had fought many boys bigger than
himself, but he fled before the numerical strength of the present enemy,
flinging back over his shoulder from a safe distance, "Blue-eyed beauty!
Ole Danny dumb-head! Blue-eyed beauty! Ole Danny dumb-head! Yah! You'll
_hafta_ go to the poor farm if you want to see Jerry Elbow after
Wednesday."

Upon hearing Darn's words Jerry stretched out at full length in the road
and his voice rose in a quavering wail of anguish. Celia Jane emitted a
thinner, shriller wail. Nora came back to comfort them and was caught by
the contagion so that she too plumped down in the road and wept.

Danny and Chris, being boys, were ashamed to give vent to their emotions
in a similar way and stood looking down at the huddled forms in the
road. Chris, after a time, found himself weeping in sympathy and openly
rubbed away the tears with his shirt sleeve. Even Danny swallowed hard
and dabbed at his eyes.

"Well, I'll be horn-swoggled!" exclaimed a startled, mystified voice
back of the children.

Jerry opened his eyes on a blurred picture of Danny and Chris turning
suddenly about and of Nora springing to her feet. A man was just getting
out of a two-seated buggy. All sound of his approach had been drowned
out by the vociferous lamentations of Jerry and Celia Jane, which still
continued.

"What's the trouble here?" asked the man in a deep, pleasant voice that
carried even through the clamor into Jerry's consciousness. He raised
his head and looked up through swollen and tear-drenched eyes at the
man.

"They're g-goin' to take Jerry Elbow to the p-p-poor farm Wednesday
morning," Danny stutteringly explained.

"Then you must be the Mullarkey children," observed the man, speaking to
the group.

"I'm Danny," said Danny, and Chris identified himself.

"Then this must be Jerry Elbow," the man remarked, stooping to pick
Jerry up.

Jerry flung his arms about the man's neck and clung there desperately.

"Yes, sir, he's Jerry," Nora explained, as Celia Jane got up out of the
road and brushed the dust from her dress.

"My name's Tom Phillips," said their new friend. "I knew your father,
Dan Mullarkey, very well. He told me once how he found you by the
roadside one stormy night far from any house, Jerry Elbow."

Jerry felt comforted in the strong arms of Mr. Phillips and at the
pleasant, deep quality of his voice. He stopped crying except for the
long, shuddering sobs that always came at intervals after he had cried
so hard.

"Who said anything about taking you to the poor farm?" he asked Jerry.

"D-D-Darn," Jerry sobbed out.

"Darn!" said Mr. Phillips, puzzled. "I say darn, too, but who was it?"

"It was Darn Darner," Danny told him.

"Oh!" exclaimed Mr. Phillips. "That scalawag!"

"He said his father said so," Nora explained.

"That will have to be looked into," Mr. Phillips remarked. "Now you
children climb into the buggy and I will take you home. I want to have a
talk with your mother."

"She's not to home," said Chris.

"Mebbe she'll be back," observed Nora, looking at the sun. "It's gettin'
on towards supper time."

"We'll see," was Mr. Phillips' only comment as he placed Jerry on the
front seat and helped Celia Jane in beside him.

Danny and Chris and Nora, in the meantime, had climbed into the back
seat. Mr. Phillips clucked to the horses and they trotted off into town.

Jerry felt greatly comforted to be riding home with this big, pleasant
man, and the cruel edge of Darn's words began to wear off. He felt that
this new friend's words, "That will have to be looked into," meant
almost as much as though he had said, "I'll see that nothing of the sort
happens."

His body was still shaken, at longer and longer intervals, by shuddering
sobs, but when the Mullarkey home was reached, they had subsided and he
was enjoying the unaccustomed buggy ride.

Mrs. Mullarkey was home, and she came running out to see why her
children were being brought back in a buggy.

"Who's hurt," she asked anxiously, "that you're bringing them home in a
buggy?"

"None of them is hurt, Mrs. Mullarkey," Mr. Phillips assured her
quickly, and helped the children out. "I'm Tom Phillips. I knew your
husband quite well. I found these children crying in the road because
Mr. Darner's young scalawag of a son had told them that Jerry Elbow was
to be taken to the poor farm."

"Oh, Jerry, you blessed child!" crooned Mother 'Larkey, taking Jerry in
her arms. "And you to find it out from some one else when I'd been
trying for this week past to get up courage enough to tell you."

"Mother!" cried Nora in a shocked voice.

"It's true, then?" asked Mr. Phillips.

"Yes," replied Mrs. Mullarkey, drawing Jerry tightly to her. "I don't
want to let you go, Jerry, but Dan's insurance money is all gone and how
I am to make enough to keep the bodies and souls of all you children
together I don't know. I love you as though you were my own, you're that
sweet and gentle."

Jerry began crying again, but softly this time, because he knew Mother
'Larkey wouldn't let him go if she could help it. She kissed him and
turned to Mr. Phillips.

"Mr. Darner told me I'd sooner or later have to let some of my own
children go there or be adopted out, if I didn't consent to Jerry's
going. I'm at the end of my string."

"I see," observed Mr. Phillips gently. "I didn't know just how Dan
Mullarkey left you fixed, but I can do something to help you. Darner can
be made to listen to reason and I can bring some influence to bear upon
him. I don't see why the county can't let you have as much as it would
cost it to keep Jerry at the farm. I belong to the same lodge as Dan did
and we'll help you some there. I'll find something for Danny to do. He
can be earning a little money in the summer time and help you out that
way."

"You're an angel if ever there was one in this world, Mr. Phillips,"
said Mrs. Mullarkey. "If the county will allow me for Jerry's keep, I'll
take better care of him than he'd get at any institution and it would
help me in keeping the brood together."

"I'll see what I can do," said Mr. Phillips.

"Then Jerry won't hafta go?" Celia Jane questioned.

"I hope not," he replied. "Keep a stiff upper lip, Jerry!"

"I--I'll try," Jerry promised, already feeling certain that the danger
which threatened him had passed.

"I'll come back in a day or two," said Mr. Phillips, "and let you know
what I have been able to do."

Jerry watched him from over Mother 'Larkey's shoulder as he drove off.
He thought he had never seen a man who looked so big and strong and as
though he could make people do just as he wanted them to.

CHAPTER VII

TICKETS TO PARADISE

On Wednesday Mr. Phillips reported that while the matter of allowing
Mrs. Mullarkey to keep Jerry had not been decided, he would not be taken
to the poor farm on that day at least and he thought it could be
arranged that he shouldn't go there at all. Consequently it was with a
joyous heart that Jerry awoke early on the morning of the great day that
the circus was to reach town. He had slept fitfully all night, thinking
of the circus and fearing that he might not wake up in time. Mrs.
Mullarkey had promised to call him, but for once Jerry had waked up
himself.

He heard a stir downstairs and called to Mother 'Larkey that he was up.
He roused Chris, who in turn called Danny, but Danny was a sound sleeper
and merely turned on his side. Chris and Jerry then rolled him over and
pulled the covers off and finally pummeled the sleeper into a state of
semi-consciousness.

"It's time for the circus to unload," they told him. "We're all dressed,
ready to go."

Danny opened one swollen, sleepy eye, "Aw, it's not time yet," he
muttered drowsily and went back to sleep.

"All right, let him be," said Chris in disgust. "We ain't got time to
wake him. We'll miss the unloadin' if we do."

So Jerry and Chris tiptoed carefully downstairs, for they knew Mrs.
Mullarkey had gone back to bed, and ran through the dim light of dawn to
the railway station.

The circus train was in and the unloading had already begun. Nearly all
the small boys in town seemed to be perched on fences, roofs, and in
trees, watching the proceedings. The circus men were tired and cross and
made the children keep out of the way.

Jerry was dreadfully excited and exhilarated upon seeing four elephants
on the opposite side of the train, and his delight knew no bounds when
one of them was hitched to a heavy circus wagon on a car and pulled it
down a board incline to the road. The funny, awkward animal walked
right along as though the wagon were as light as a feather. Many of the
boys complained because the sides of the wagons in which the wild
animals were kept were closed, but not so Jerry. As long as he could
feast his eyes on the elephants he was content. He had but a passing
glance for the humpbacked camels and the two long-necked giraffes until
after the elephants had been taken away.

When the train had been unloaded and the last wagons were hauled away,
the troop of small boys--and many older ones and grown men as
well--followed them out to the circus ground.

Already one big tent and several smaller ones had been erected and the
elephants and the other animals were not to be seen. There was a
delightfully circusy smell of oils and sawdust and hay and animals
pervading the air. Then through it all came another smell that made
Jerry and Chris and many of the boys and men sniff. It was the smell of
bacon and eggs frying. The cooks were preparing breakfast for the circus
troupe.

"I'm hungry," said a man back of Jerry to the two boys with him. "We'd
better get home. Mother will be waiting breakfast for us." They left the
circus grounds reluctantly, the two boys stopping every now and then to
look back.

That inviting odor of frying bacon and eggs was a clarion call to
breakfast to scores of the onlookers, and the crowd fairly melted away
until not more than a dozen boys were left, among whom Jerry saw Darn
Darner.

"I'm awful hungry," said Chris, after they had wandered around half an
hour longer. "Let's go home. I guess we've seen about all there is to
see."

Jerry protested. "Let's wait a while longer an' mebbe they'll bring the
el'funts out."

"Mebbe they will," said Chris and seemed straightway to forget all about
his hunger. They went about the tents again and once caught sight of the
elephants and camels in the second largest tent, as one of the canvasmen
came out and held back the flaps. He was followed by another man with a
thick, black beard, who wore something that flashed in his shirt front.

"Gee, look at the size of that diamond!" exclaimed Darn Darner's voice
back of Jerry.

The man looked sharply about. Jerry thought he seemed very much
surprised and was afraid he might be angry because he and Chris were so
close to the tent. He started to go away, but upon hearing the man speak
he stood rooted to the spot.

"What in the world has become of all the small boys?" the black-bearded
man had asked the other. "There were hundreds about a few minutes ago.
Don't they know they can get to see the circus if they want to carry
water for the elephants?"

"I guess the boys in this town never saw a circus before, Mr. Burrows,"
replied the canvasman.

"Here, you," Mr. Burrows called to Darn. "Want to earn a ticket to the
circus?"

"No," said Darn loftily. "I've got a reserved box seat." He turned and
walked off.

"What did I tell you, Sam?" laughed Mr. Burrows. "There's money in this
jay town and we're going to get a bunch of it."

Jerry stepped hastily forward, a light of joy dancing in his eyes, with
Chris treading on his heels. "Please, mister," said Jerry eagerly,
"we'll carry water for the elephants."

"We want to see the circus," added Chris.

"You're too little to carry water," said Sam. "Where're all the bigger
kids?"

"They've gone home to breakfast," replied Chris. "Please, mister, we can
carry water. I'm big enough."

"Yes, I guess you're big enough," said the man with the diamond in his
shirt, "but the elephants are awful thirsty and it will take you a long
time. Sam, you see if you can find some other boys to help you."

Sam departed instantly.

"Where'll we get the water?" asked Chris.

"From that house across the road. You'll have to pump it. Your brother
there had better go home; he's too little to carry water."

"No, I ain't, mister," said Jerry eagerly. "I'm awful strong for my
age."

"How old are you?" asked the man.

"I don't know," Jerry confessed. Then, fearful of losing this
opportunity to see the circus, he continued, "I guess I'm almost seven
or mebbe eight."

"You don't know how old you are!" exclaimed the man. "You look much
younger than seven or eight."

"He's not my brother," Chris explained. "He's a orfum my father found
when he was alive. My brother's at home with mother and my sisters. We
couldn't wake him up. But Jerry's awful strong."

"A orfum, hey? And awful strong?" said the man and seemed to be studying
over something in his mind. "Have you ever seen a circus?" he asked.

"No, sir," they both assured him and Chris continued: "Mother did once,
just after she was married to father. She wished she could bring us all
to the circus but she didn't have money enough."

"H'm," said the man. "I used to be a orfum myself and I know how you
feel."

"Did you?" asked Jerry, and he smiled up at the man, unafraid, with a
sort of fellow feeling.

"I sure did," the man smiled down at Jerry. "I got to see my first
circus through carrying water for the elephants."

At this moment Sam returned with four other boys, all older than either
Jerry or Chris.

"I never saw boys so shy of a circus before, Mr. Burrows," he said.
"They've melted away as though the circus were a plague. But I guess we
can get along with these."

"All right, Sam," replied Mr. Burrows, "but I want you to pump the water
and let the boys do the carrying. These two boys," and he put a hand on
Jerry's head and one on Chris's shoulder, "have never seen a circus.
They'll help carry water and be sure that they get a matinee ticket
apiece."

"All right, sir," replied Sam. "Come on, boys."

"Let these two carry a pail between them," continued Mr. Burrows, "I
don't want them breaking their backs."

Jerry felt an unusual warmth go surging through him. He was going to
carry water for the elephants and get a ticket to the circus, after all!
He was gladder than ever that he had bought the cough medicine for
Kathleen with the black half-dollar. He looked up at Mr. Burrows, and it
was such a look as a friendless dog might give to a man who had just
petted it and given it something to eat.

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