



Produced by Annie R. McGuire








[Illustration: HARPER'S YOUNG PEOPLE
AN ILLUSTRATED WEEKLY.]

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VOL. II.--NO. 58. PUBLISHED BY HARPER & BROTHERS, NEW YORK. PRICE FOUR
CENTS.

Tuesday, December 1, 1880. Copyright, 1880, by HARPER & BROTHERS. $1.50
per Year, in Advance.

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[Illustration: TOBY STRIKES A BARGAIN--DRAWN BY W. A. ROGERS.]

TOBY TYLER; OR, TEN WEEKS WITH A CIRCUS.

BY JAMES OTIS.

CHAPTER I.

TOBY'S INTRODUCTION TO THE CIRCUS.


"Couldn't you give more'n six pea-nuts for a cent?" was a question asked
by a very small boy with big, staring eyes, of a candy vender at a
circus booth. And as he spoke he looked wistfully at the quantity of
nuts piled high up on the basket, and then at the six, each of which now
looked so small as he held them in his hand.

"Couldn't do it," was the reply of the proprietor of the booth, as he
put the boy's penny carefully away in the drawer.

The little fellow looked for another moment at his purchase, and then
carefully cracked the largest one.

A shade, and a very deep shade it was, of disappointment that passed
over his face, and then looking up anxiously, he asked, "Don't you swap
'em when they're bad?"

The man's face looked as if a smile had been a stranger to it for a
long time; but one did pay it a visit just then, and he tossed the boy
two nuts, and asked him a question at the same time. "What is your
name?"

The big brown eyes looked up for an instant, as if to learn whether the
question was asked in good faith, and then their owner said, as he
carefully picked apart another nut, "Toby Tyler."

"Well, that's a queer name."

"Yes, I s'pose so, myself; but, you see, I don't expect that's the name
that belongs to me. But the fellers call me so, an' so does Uncle
Dan'l."

"Who is Uncle Daniel?" was the next question. In the absence of any more
profitable customer the man seemed disposed to get as much amusement out
of the boy as possible.

"He hain't my uncle at all; I only call him so because all the boys do,
an' I live with him."

"Where's your father and mother?"

"I don't know," said Toby, rather carelessly. "I don't know much about
'em, an' Uncle Dan'l says they don't know much about me. Here's another
bad nut; goin' to give me two more?"

The two nuts were given him, and he said, as he put them in his pocket,
and turned over and over again those which he held in his hand, "I
shouldn't wonder if all of these was bad. Sposen you give me two for
each one of 'em before I crack 'em, an' then they won't be spoiled so
you can't sell 'em again."

As this offer of barter was made, the man looked amused, and he asked,
as he counted out the number which Toby desired, "If I give you these, I
suppose you'll want me to give you two more for each one, and you'll
keep that kind of a trade going until you get my whole stock?"

"I won't open my head if every one of 'em's bad."

"All right; you can keep what you've got, and I'll give you these
besides; but I don't want you to buy any more, for I don't want to do
that kind of business."

Toby took the nuts offered, not in the least abashed, and seated himself
on a convenient stone to eat them, and at the same time to see all that
was going on around him. The coming of a circus to the little town of
Guilford was an event, and Toby had hardly thought of anything else
since the highly  posters had first been put up. It was yet quite
early in the morning, and the tents were just being erected by the men.
Toby had followed, with eager eyes, everything that looked as if it
belonged to the circus, from the time the first wagon had entered the
town, until the street parade had been made, and everything was being
prepared for the afternoon's performance.

The man who had made the losing trade in pea-nuts seemed disposed to
question the boy still further, probably owing to the fact that trade
was dull, and he had nothing better to do.

"Who is this Uncle Daniel you say you live with--is he a farmer?"

"No; he's a Deacon, an' he raps me over the head with the hymn-book
whenever I go to sleep in meetin', an' he says I eat four times as much
as I earn. I blame him for hittin' so hard when I go to sleep, but I
s'pose he's right about my eatin'. You see," and here his tone grew both
confidential and mournful, "I am an awful eater, an' I can't seem to
help it. Somehow I'm hungry all the time. I don't seem ever to get
enough till carrot-time comes, an' then I can get all I want without
troubling anybody."

"Didn't you ever have enough to eat?"

"I s'pose I did, but you see Uncle Dan'l he found me one mornin' on his
hay, an' he says I was cryin' for something to eat then, an' I've kept
it up ever since. I tried to get him to give me money enough to go into
the circus with; but he said a cent was all he could