Harper's Young People, May 9, 1882 An Illustrated Weekly
|MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER.|
|"WHAT DO THE PANSIES THINK?"|
|HOW JELLY-FISH LIVE AND MOVE.|
|MR. THOMPSON AND THE SWALLOWS.|
|A PRINCELY ART.|
|PERIL AND PRIVATION.|
|THE SPECKLED PIG.|
|OUR POST-OFFICE BOX.|
|vol. iii.—no. 132.||Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.||price four cents.|
|Tuesday, May 9, 1882.||Copyright, 1882, by Harper & Brothers.||$1.50 per Year, in Advance.|
MR. STUBBS'S BROTHER.
BY JAMES OTIS,
Author of "Toby Tyler," "Tim and Tip," etc.
Toby watched anxiously as each wagon came up, but he failed to recognizeany of the drivers. For the first time it occurred to him that perhapsthose whom he knew were no longer with this particular company, and hisdelight gave way to sadness.
Fully twenty wagons had come, and he had just begun to think his fearshad good foundation, when in the distance he saw the well-rememberedmonkey wagon, with the burly form of old Ben on the box.
Toby could not wait for that particular team to come up, even though itwas driven at a reasonably rapid speed; but he started toward it as fastas he could run. After him, something like the tail of a comet, followedall his friends, who, having come so far, were determined not to losesight of him for a single instant, if it could be prevented[Pg 434] by anyexertion on their part. Old Ben was driving in a sleepy sort of way, andpaid no attention to the little fellow who was running toward him, untilToby shouted. Then the horses were stopped with a jerk that nearly threwthem back on their haunches.
"Well, Toby my son, I declare I am glad to see you;" and old Ben reacheddown for the double purpose of shaking hands and helping the boy up tothe seat beside him. "Well, well, well, it's been some time since you'vebeen on this 'ere box, ain't it? I'd kinder forgotten what town it waswe took you from; I knew it was somewhere hereabouts, though, an' I'vekept my eye peeled for you ever since we've been in this part of thecountry. So you found your uncle Dan'l all right, did you?"
"Yes, Ben, an' he was awful good to me when I got home; but Mr. Stubbsgot shot."
"No? you don't tell me! How did that happen?"
Then Toby told the story of his pet's death, and although it hadoccurred a year before, he could not keep the tears from his eyes as hespoke of it.
"You mustn't feel bad 'bout it, Toby," said Ben, consolingly, "for, yousee, monkeys has got to die jest like folks, an' your Stubbs was sich aold feller that I reckon he'd have died anyhow before long. But I've gotone in the wagon here that looks a good deal like yours, an' I'll showhim to you."
As Ben spoke, he drew his wagon, now completely surrounded by boys, upby the side of the road near the others, and opened the panel in the topso that Toby could have a view of his passengers.
Curled up in the corner nearest the roof, where Mr. Stubbs had been inthe habit of sitting, Toby saw, as Ben had said, a monkey that lookedremarkably like Mr. Stubbs, save that he was younger and not so sedate.
Toby uttered an exclamation of surprise and joy as he pushed his handthrough the bars of the cage, and the monkey shook hands with him as Mr.Stubbs used to do when greeted in the morning.
"Why, I never knew before that Mr. Stubbs had any relations!" said Toby,looking around with joy imprinted on every feature. "Do you know wherethe rest of the family is, Ben?"
There was no reply from the driver for some time; but instead, Tobyheard certain familiar sounds as if the old man were choking, while hisface took on the purplish tinge which had so alarmed the boy when he sawit for the first time.
"No, I don't know where his family is," said Ben, after he had recoveredfrom his spasm of silent laughter, "an' I reckon he don't know nor care.Say, Toby, you don't really think this one is any relation to yourmonkey, do you?"
"Why, it must be his brother," said Toby, earnestly, "'cause they lookso much alike; but perhaps Mr. Stubbs was only his cousin."
Old Ben relapsed into another spasm, and Toby talked to the monkey, whochattered back at him, until the boys on the ground were in a perfectferment of anxiety to know what was going on.
It was some time before Toby could be persuaded to pay attention toanything else, so engrossed was he with Mr. Stubbs's brother, as hepersisted in calling the monkey, and the only way Ben could engage himin conversation was by saying:
"You don't seem to be very much afraid of Job Lord now."
"You won't let him take me away if he should try, will you?" Toby asked,quickly, alarmed at the very mention of his former employer's name, eventhough he had thought he would not be afraid of him, protected as he nowwas by Uncle Daniel.
"No, Toby, I wouldn't let him if he was to try it on, for you are justwhere every boy ought to be, an' that's at home; but Job's where hecan't whip any more boys for some time to come."
"He's in jail. About a month after you left he licked his new boy so badthat they arrested him, an' he got two years for it, 'cause it prettynigh made a cripple out of the youngster."
Toby was about to make some reply; but Ben continued unfolding hisbudget of news.
"Castle staid with us till the season was over, an' then he went outWest. I don't know whether he got his hair cut trying to show the Injunshow to ride, or not; but he never come back, an' nobody I ever saw hasheard anything about him."
"Are Mr. and Mrs. Treat with the show?"
"Yes, they're still here; he's a leetle thinner, I believe, an' she'stwenty pound heavier. She says she weighs fifty pounds more'n she did;but I don't believe that, even if she did strike for five dollars more aweek this season on the strength of it, an' get it. They keep right oncookin' up dinners, an' invitin' of folks in, an' the skeleton getschoked about the same as when you was with the show. I don't know how itis that a feller so thin as Treat is can eat so much."
"Uncle Dan'l says it's 'cause he works so hard to get full," said Toby,quietly; "an' I shouldn't wonder if I grew as thin as the skeleton oneof these days, for I eat jest as awful much as I used to."
"Well, you look as if you got about all you needed, at any rate," saidBen, as he mentally compared the plump boy at his side with the thin,frightened-looking one who had run away from the circus with his monkeyon his shoulder and his bundle under his arm.
"Is Ella here?" asked Toby, after a pause, during which it seemed as ifhe were thinking of much the same thing that Ben was.
"Yes, an' she 'keeps talkin' about what big cards you an' her would havebeen if you had only staid with the show. But I'm glad you had pluckenough to run away, Toby, for a life like this ain't no fit one forboys."
"And I was glad to get back to Uncle Dan'l," said Toby, with a greatdeal of emphasis. "I wouldn't go away, without he wanted me to, if Icould go with a circus seven times as large as this. Do you supposeyoung Stubbs would act bad if I was to take him for a walk?"
"Who?" asked Ben, looking down at the crowd of boys with no slight showof perplexity.
"Mr. Stubbs's brother," and Toby motioned to the door of the cage. "I'dlike to take him up in my arms, cause it would seem so much like it usedto before his brother died."
Ben was seized with one of the very worst laughing spasms Toby had everseen, and there was every danger that he would roll off the seat beforehe could control himself; but he did recover after a time, and as thepurple hue slowly receded from his face, he said:
"I'll tell you what we'll do, Toby. You come to the tent when theafternoon performance is over, an' I'll fix it so's you shall see Mr.Stubbs's brother as much as you want to."
Just then Toby remembered that Ben was to be his guest for a while thatday, and after explaining all Aunt Olive had done in the way ofpreparing dainties, invited him to dinner.
"I'll come, Toby, because it's to see you an' them that has been good toyou," said Ben, slowly, and after quite a long pause: "but there ain'tanybody else I know of who could coax me out to dinner, for, you see,rough fellows like me ain't fit to go around much, except among our ownkind. But say, Toby, your uncle Dan'l ain't right on his speech, is he?"
Toby looked so puzzled that Ben saw he had not been understood, and heexplained:
"I mean, he don't get up a dinner for the sake of havin' a chance tomake a speech, like the skeleton, does he, eh?"
"Oh no, Uncle Dan'l don't do that. I know you'll like him when you seehim."
"And I believe I shall, Toby," said Ben, speaking very seriously. "I'dbe sure to, because he's such a good uncle to you."
Just then the conversation was interrupted by the orders to prepare forthe parade; and as the manager drove up to see that everything was doneproperly, he stopped to speak with and congratulate Toby on being athome again, a condescension on his part that caused a lively feeling ofenvy in the breasts of the other boys because they had not been sohonored.
[to be continued.]
BY MARY A. BARR.
What do the pansies think, mamma,
When they first come in the spring?
Do they remember the robins,
And the songs they used to sing?
When the butterflies come again,
I wonder if they will say,
"We are ever so glad to see you,
And won't you sit down and stay?"
Will the pansies tell the butterflies
How the snow lay white and deep,
And how beneath it, safe and warm,
They had such a pleasant sleep?
Will the butterflies tell the pansies
How they hid in their cradle bed,
And dreamed away the winter-time,
When people thought they were dead?
And will they talk of the weather,
Just as grown-up people do?
And wish the sun would always shine,
And the skies be always blue?
Speak of the lilies dressed in white,
And the daffodils dressed in gold,
And say that they think the tulips
Are exceedingly gay and bold?
I fancy the purple pansies are proud;
I fancy the yellow are gay.
Oh! I wish I could know just what they think;
I wish I could hear them say,
"Here comes our dear little Lucy,
The kind little girl in pink,
Who used to visit us every day—
And that's what we pansies think."
BY SARAH COOPER.
When jelly-fish are seen lying in shapeless masses upon the beach, wherethey have been washed by the tide, their appearance is not attractive.If, however, we can watch them from the side of a boat, or from a longpier, as they dart through the