when the performance was over, noddy, with the assistance of one of his companions, dressed himself in "trunk and tights," and appeared in the ring to take his first lesson in graceful movements. he could turn the somersets, and go through with the other evolutions; but there was a certain polish needed—so the ring-master said—to make them pass off well. he was to assume a graceful position at the beginning and end of each act; he must recover himself without clumsiness; he must bow, and make a flourish with his hands, when he had done a brilliant thing.
noddy had not much taste for this branch of the profession. he did not like the bowing and the flourishing. if the feat itself did not please the people, he could not win them by smirking. he was much pleased with his costume, and this kept him[82] good-natured, under the severe training of the ring-master, for a time. mr. whippleby was coarse and rough in his manners. during the show he had been all grace and elegance, and did not use any big words, but now he was as rough as a bear, and swore like a pirate. he was just like a cat's paw,—he kept the sharp claws down while the dear people were present; but now he thrust them out.
noddy found the "business" was no joke. mr. whippleby did not so regard it, now that the training had commenced; and the novice found that he had placed himself under a very tyrannical master. he made his bows and flourished his arms, with all the grace he could command for a time; but he did not come up to his severe teacher's standard.
"do that again," said mr. whippleby, with savage emphasis. "don't hurry it."
noddy did it again, as slowly as he could; but he was apparently just as far from perfection as before.
"if you don't do better than that, i'll put the whip around your legs!" shouted the impatient ring-master. "one of the mules could do it better."
"i did it as well as i could," replied noddy, rather tartly.[83]
"you will do it better than that, or your legs will smart. now do it again."
noddy obeyed. he did not think the ring-master really intended to strike him with the long whip he held in his hand, but supposed he was so much in the habit of threatening the clown with the lash, that he did it now from the force of habit. his last attempt did not satisfy mr. whippleby, who stormed at him more furiously than before.
"do you think i have nothing better to do than waste my time over a blockhead like you? i haven't had my bitters yet. now do it again; and if you fail this time you will catch it."
noddy turned his somerset; but he had hardly recovered himself before he received a smart cut from the whip in the tenderest part of his leg. there was a young lion in the novice, and a blow from any man was more than he could endure. he expressed his mind in regard to the outrage with such freedom, that mr. whippleby lost his temper, if he ever had any to lose, and he began to lash the unfortunate youth in the most brutal manner.
noddy, finding there was no satisfaction to be obtained by facing the ring-master, fled from the spot, leaping up on the seats where the spectators[84] sat. he was maddened to fury by the harsh treatment he had received; and thirsting for vengeance, he seized whatever missiles he could find, and hurled them at his persecutor. his legs seemed to be on fire from the effects of the blows he had received. he rubbed them for a moment, while he hurled the most bitter denunciations at the ring-master.
"now, come down, and try again," called mr. whippleby, who did not seem to be much disconcerted by what had taken place, when he had in some measure recovered his equanimity.
"no, i won't!" replied noddy.
"have you got enough, mr. arthur de forrest?"
"i will give you enough before you get through."
while this colloquy was going on, the manager appeared in the ring. whippleby laughingly told him what had happened, and he seemed to be much amused by it; but the ring-master had certainly changed his tone at the appearance of the "head man."
"come, my boy, come down, and let me see how well you do your business," said the manager.
"i've had enough of it," replied noddy, as he[85] returned to the ring. "i'm not a horse, and i'm not going to be treated like one."
"that's your initiation, my boy," said whippleby. "we always try new beginners in that way, to find out what they are made of."
"you will find out what i'm made of, if you hit me again with that whip."
"i know now. you won't need any more, if you try to do what you are told."
"i'm not going to be whipped, whether i try or not," added noddy, doggedly.
"you shall not be whipped, my boy," said the manager. "now show me your ground act."
the novice was about to comply,—for he had already come to the conclusion that the "head man" would protect him,—when he saw two men enter the tent. they did not belong to the company, and noddy was quite sure he had often seen them in whitestone.
"we don't allow visitors in here now," said the manager.
"we come on business. there is a boy here that we want to find," replied one of the men.
"you must leave the tent," said the manager, rather sharply.[86]
"i am a constable, and there is a boy about here that i want."
"what's his name?"
"they call him noddy newman."
"what do you want of him?"
"that's my business," answered the constable, rudely. "the boy came into the ring this afternoon during the show, and i suppose he belongs to the company."
"that's the fellow!" exclaimed the other constable, pointing to noddy, who was trying to take himself off without being noticed.
"that's arthur de forrest," interposed the manager.
"no, it isn't; i've known him this five years," said the man who had recognized the culprit.
both of them walked towards noddy, with the intention, apparently, of laying violent hands on him; but the young gentleman in "trunk and tights" was not prepared to yield up his personal liberty, and he retreated.
the officers were in a position where they could stop him from leaving the tent by either of the two entrances; and noddy, finding his exit prevented, seized a rope which was hanging down by the centre-[87]pole, and climbed up out of the reach of his pursuers.
"what do you want of me?" demanded the young athlete, as he perched himself in a comfortable position on the "slack-rope," which was suspended to the pole.
"we shall not do you any harm, my boy," said one of the officers.
"what do you want of me?"
"there is good news for you; and you are wanted over at squire wriggs's office."
"i know ye! you want to take me to the court-house. you can't humbug me," said noddy, fully confirmed in his suspicions by the conduct of the men.
"we won't hurt you."
"you want to take me up."
"no, we don't; we only want to take you up to squire wriggs's office. it's all for your good."
"no, you don't," replied noddy. "you can't cheat me."
"we don't want to cheat you. we are only sent to find you. we will not arrest you."
"i know better. you can't fool me. i heard squire wriggs say he wanted to take me up to the[88] court-house; and you don't catch me near no court-house. i know what you mean."
"you are mistaken, my boy. come down, and i will tell you all about it."
"when i do, you let me know," replied noddy, who felt so secure from arrest in his present quarters that he expressed his mind with perfect freedom.
"we promise not to arrest you," persisted the constable who did the talking. "we have been looking for you all day."
"you may look another day, if you like," added the defiant refugee. "you want me for setting fire to the boat-house; but i am not to blame, if i did do it."
"we don't know anything about the boat-house; squire wriggs has a lot of money for you."
"you can't catch an old bird in any such trap as that," answered noddy, shaking his head significantly.
the officers used all their powers of persuasion to induce him to come down; but noddy, satisfied that they had been sent by squire wriggs, was fully persuaded that they were trying to deceive him. the story about a "lot of money" for a poor boy like him, who had not a friend in the world, was too[89] absurd, in his estimation, to be entertained for a moment. he had heard the squire speak to mr. grant about thirty thousand dollars; but such a sum was beyond his comprehension. he did not believe any man, not even the owner of woodville, had so much money; and of course it was nothing to him.
the constables got out of patience at last; and though they showed no signs of anger or malice, they exhibited an intention to catch him, which was much worse. one of them commenced the ascent of the pole in the centre of the tent. the circus people, who seemed to be in full sympathy with noddy, remained neutral, for the intruders were officers of the law, and it was not prudent to oppose them.
noddy perceived the object of his pursuers, and grasping one of the tent-ropes, he scrambled up to the very apex of the canvas structure, and crawled through the aperture around the pole. from this point he slid down to the short poles, and then dropped upon the ground, before the man in the ring could pass round to the outside of the tent. dodging under the curtains, he reached the place which served as a dressing-room. removing his "trunks," he hurried on his clothes, and rushed out into the open air again.[90]
his persecutors were not in sight, and he did not lose a moment in putting a safe distance between himself and them. precisely as a well-educated duck or other water-fowl would have done, he hastened to the river, as his most natural element. he had made a complete circuit of the town in his flight. he did not dare to show himself to a living being; for it seemed to him just as though the whole country was after him. when he reached the river, he sat down on the bank, exhausted by his efforts and by the excitement of the afternoon.
"i reckon i've got about circus enough," said he to himself,—for there was no one else to whom he could say it. "that whippleby is worse than a heathen. i don't like any of them."
he rubbed his legs, which were not yet done smarting; and the pain seemed to be an emphatic protest against circuses in general, and the "great olympian circus" in particular. but whether he liked the circus or not, it was no longer safe for him to remain with the company. he had taken "french leave" of the manager, and had cheated him out of the tights which enveloped his body from neck to heels. this thought reminded him that they did not feel at[91] all comfortable, and he wished the manager had his own again.
having abandoned the circus profession in disgust, he wondered what he should do next. it was useless for him to stay in the vicinity of woodville; and the only safe plan for him to adopt was, to go away to some other part of the country, or go to sea at once. he could not tolerate the idea of leaving without letting bertha know where he was. the officers were on his track, and he could not hope always to escape them. the court-house was terrible, and prompt action was necessary.
he must have a sight of bertha, even if he did not speak to her; and at the risk of being captured, he determined to stay in the neighborhood of woodville till the next morning. near the place where he sat there was a skiff moored to the bank. he hauled it in, and took up the oars. he did not mean to steal it, only to borrow it till the next morning. with this comfortable reflection he cast off the painter, and pulled over to the other side of the river.
it was now quite late in the evening. he had not eaten any supper, and, like other boys, he was always hungry at meal times. he wanted something to eat; and it occurred to him that there were generally[92] some crackers and cheese in the locker of the greyhound, and he rowed down to her moorings. he found what he wanted there, and made a hearty supper. he was satisfied then, and soon went to sleep in the stern-sheets of the sail-boat.
fortunately for him he waked up about daylight, and was not seen by any of the early risers at woodville. appropriating the rest of the crackers and cheese for his breakfast, he got into the skiff and rowed up to the glen, where he hoped, in the course of the forenoon, to see bertha.
