CHAPTER XIVTHE CIRCUS
“Miss Prince really is a brick!” said Bill, and the others agreed. Miss Prince had earned this highest form of praise by granting a whole holiday on the strength of the circus, the mysterious tramp’s return, and the first day’s real haymaking.
The circus had passed on up the road to the village green. The horses had been taken out of the shafts and hobbled. Smoke rose in little blue columns from the caravan chimneys. Small brown children, with bare feet, clambered up and down the little ladders that led up to the caravan doors, where their mothers sat—stout ladies, with very black hair and gold rings in their ears.
With much hammering and shouting, an enormous round tent was being pitched in Farmer Brown’s field. Also in this field strong men struggled with boat swings, and big boys arranged cocoanut shies. Black Bill strode round calling everybody bad names and making himself generally beastly, but getting the work done in double-quick time.
Of course the entire population of the villagelooked on. The Cubs, feeling as if some wonderful fairy story had at last come true, stood with wide eyes, drinking it all in. Their blood ran cold as they heard the lion roar. But when they saw the lady who trained him they were not surprised that he obeyed her; she was truly fearsome.
They peered about round the caravan containing the fat lady, in hopes of catching a glimpse of her, but she was apparently too bashful to come out. The first performance was not to take place until the next day, though the “stunts” would be open to the public that evening. The Cubs would have hung round the gipsy camp all day had not Danny made a suggestion.
“Look here,” he said, “I vote we go over to Farmer Higgins’ now. I hear he is short-handed, and wants to get his hay in while this lovely weather lasts. I believe he would be glad of our help. And then in the dinner hour we will see our tramp, and hear of all he’s been doing since he went away.”
The thought of haymaking and the tramp was sufficient attraction to draw the cubs away from the circus, and with light hearts they set out for the farm.
Mr. Higgins was delighted to see them. He provided them with pitchforks and big wooden rakes, and said that if they worked very hard that day and got the hay dry enough to cart to-morrow they might have rides on top of the loaded wagons. It had always been a cherished dream of the twins to ride on a hay-cart, but up till nowthe farmers had been their enemies, and none of them would have allowed “one of ’em terrors” in his field.
“After all,” said David reflectively, “it’s much jollier being friends with everybody, instead of enemies. I’m glad Miss Prince and Danny came and turned us into Cubs.”
They worked like niggers all the morning. Jerseys soon came off, and scarves were turned into a kind of Arab headgear. David and Nipper raked the hay into long lines, and Bill and Danny turned these over with pitchforks.
At about one o’clock the womenfolk belonging to the haymakers began to arrive with dinners tied up in red handkerchiefs.
Suddenly a cheer went up from the Cubs.
“Miss Prince—bringingusdinner!” They were as hungry as wolves, and it made you feel so like a real farm hand to have your dinner brought you. So they made a camp in a shady corner of the field, and while Miss Prince and the Cubs unpacked the basket, Danny went off in search of the tramp.
Before long they returned together. The tramp still looked very thin, but his face had been burned brown by exposure to the sun during his long hours of farm work. The Cubs leapt at him like a crowd of real young wolves and dragged him down into their hay fort. “Tell us a story!” “No, draw us a picture!” “Make the cuckoo noise; perhaps a real one will answer now!” Everyone shouted at the same time.
The tramp laughed.
“Ishould say, have some lunch first!” said Miss Prince. “You must all be hungry.”
So everybody settled down to ham sandwiches and hard-boiled eggs, and cucumber, and cake, and gooseberry turnovers, and lots and lots of lemonade. Of course the food got all mixed up with hay, grasshoppers, and little wee spiders, but no one seemed to mind.
“A funny thing, my turning up here again, isn’t it?” said the tramp. “It was quite by accident. In fact, I didn’t know I was coming here until I arrived at the cross-roads, and recognized the place by that little church. A man I worked for, for a few days, said he knew of a farmer friend of his who badly wanted help with his hay, and so he offered to give me a forty-mile lift on a motor-lorry of his that was coming this way. I never asked where the place was, but I felt Providence had meant me to come back when I found myself at those cross-roads again!”
“How did you get on all the winter?” asked Miss Prince.
The tramp shuddered. “Ugh! The winter!” he said. “I want to forget all about that! It’s summer now—glorious summer!”
He lay back in a patch of sun.
“I wish it was always summer, and there were always hay jobs. I’ve tried my hand at many kinds of work since I saw you last. I’m a huge success as a painter of signs. I couldn’t stick begging any longer. By the way,” he said, turning to Miss Prince, “that shilling was the last I ever took for doing nothing!”
Miss Prince laughed. She had already noticed that he was wearing a shilling piece on a piece of string round his neck.
“Now it’s a mascot?” she said.
“Yes,” said the tramp. “I believe if I’d carried it loose I’d have spent it one day. When you’re hungry you cease to be superstitious or sentimental.”
These long words bored the Cubs.
“Tell us a story!” said the twins, and Nipper suddenly smothered the tramp with an enormous armful of hay.
“No, no,” he said, “I must get back to work. Perhaps this evening I will tell you a story—when work’s done.”
And so haymaking started again, and the Cubs learnt thatdoing your bestcan be very hot work, especially when you have a tyrant of a Scout to shout, “Dyb, dyb, dyb!” every time you happen to feel like having a rest or a hayfight.
After tea the Cubs knocked off work and went down to the circus. They swung in the boats till they felt sick, and then rode galloping horses on the roundabout by way of a remedy. They knocked down cocoanuts and won china vases off the hoop-la. They paid 2d. and saw the fat lady—and shewasfat! They managed to persuade the man who looked after the animals to let them go round behind, where nobody is allowed to go, and made friends with the white ponies and performing dogs. Then, when it began to get dark and a rough crowd of big boys and farm hands began to come, Danny took them home.
The next day there was to be the great performance—that was what they were longing for.
The next day was as glorious as ever. The hay was to be carried. The Cubs were far too useful to be spared. That meant another holiday!
It was frightfully exciting to sit on a mountain of hay, and go jolting across the field. The Cubs took turns at it, but between whiles they worked like slaves. The tramp had lunch with them again, and afterwards he took them to see the barn where he had made himself a fine little camp.
At last the splendid moment came when the Cubs were sitting in a row on the narrow little seats, made of planks, and covered with red baize. They had the top row, and were well raised above people’s heads.
Punctually at 2.30 the performance began. There were tight-rope walkers in pink tights and spangles, and performing dogs, and people who rode on white horses standing up, and jumped through paper hoops, and many other things. But of course they liked Buffalo Bill the best, with the Indians and horses and the thrilling noise of revolvers.
One thing disappointed them, and that was that the Indian Jugglers and Famous Dancer did not appear at the afternoon performance. They were to be on that night. The evening show was not till 8 o’clock, and Miss Prince said, “No,” when they asked if they might go to it.