back home-第22部分

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rother　can　wag；　and　see　what　he　gives　you。　　It's　simply　scandalous。　　You　have　no　idea　of　how　mean　and　stingy　a　man　can　be　until　you　try　to　sell　him　old　bottles。　And　the　cold…hearted　way　in　which　he　will　throw　back　ink…bottles　that　you　worked　so　hard　to　clean；　and　the　ones　that　have　reading　blown　into　the　glass　　…　Oh；　it's　enough　to　set　you　against　business　transactions　all　your　life　long。　　There's　something　about　bargain　and　sale　that's　mean　and　censorious；　finding　this　fault　and　finding　that　fault；　and　paying　just　as　little　as　ever　they　can。　　It　gets　on　one's　nerves。　　It　really　does。

The　boys　that　made　the　little　white　spots　come　on　the　corners　of　their　jaws　as　they　lay　there　in　the　grass；　scheming；　scheming；　scheming；　planned　rags；　and　bottles；　and　scrap…iron；　and　more　also。　Sometimes　it　was　a　plan　so　much　bigger　that　if　they　had　kept　it　to　themselves；　like　the　darkey's　cow；　they　would　have　〃all　swole　up　and　died。〃

〃Sst！　　Come　here　once。　　Tell　you　sumpum。　　Now　don't　you　go　and　blab　it　out；　now　will　you？　　Hope　to　die？　　Well　。　。　。　。　Now；　no　kiddin'。　Cross　your　heart？　　Well　。　。　。　。　　Ah；　you　will；　too。　　I　know　you。　You　go　and　tattle　everything　you　hear　。　。　。　。　　Well。　。　。　。　　Cheese　it！　　Here　comes　somebody。　　Make　out　we're　talkin'　about　sumpum　else。　Ah；　he　did；　did　he？　　What　for；　I　wonder？　　（Say　sumpum；　can't　ye？）　Why　'nu'　ye　say　sumpum　when　he　was　goin'　by？　　Now　he'll　suspicion　sumpum　's　up；　and　nose　around　till　he　。　。　。　。　　Aw；　they　ain't　no　use　tellin'　you　anything　。　。　。　。　　Well。　　Put　your　head　over　so　's　I　can　whisper。　　Sure　I　am。　。　。　。　　Well；　I　could　learn；　couldn't　I？　　Now　don't　you　tell　a　living　soul；　will　you？　　If　anybody　asts　you；　you　tell　'em　you　don't　know　anything　at　all　about　it。　　Say；　why　'n't　you　come　along？　　I　promised　you　the　last　time。　　That's　jist　your　mother　callin'　you。　　Let　on　you　don't　hear　her。　　Aw；　stay。　　Aw；　you　don't　either　have　to　go。　　Say。　　Less　you　and　me　get　up　early；　and　go　see　the　circus　come　in　town；　will　you？　　I　will；　if　you　will。　All　right。　　Remember　now。　　Don't　you　tell　anybody　what　I　told　you。　You　know。〃


If　a　fellow　just　only　could　run　off　with　a　circus！　Wouldn't　it　be　great？　　No　more　splitting　kindling　and　carrying　in　coal；　no　more：　〃Hurry　up；　now；　or　you'll　be　late　for　school；〃　no　more　poking　along　in　a　humdrum　existence；　never　going　any　place　or　seeing　anything；　but　the　glad；　free；　untrammeled　life；　the　life　of　a　circus…boy；　standing　up　on　top　of　somebody's　head　（you　could　pretend　he　was　your　daddy。　　Who'd　ever　know　the　difference？）　and　your　leg　stuck　up　like　five　minutes　to　six；　and　him　standing　on　top　of　a　horse　…　and　the　horse　going　around　the　ring；　and　the　ring　master　cracking　his　whip　…　aw；　say！　　How　about　it？

Maybe　the　show…people　would　take　you　even　if　you　didn't　have　two　joints　to　common　folks'　one；　and　hadn't　had　early　advantages　in　the　way　of　plenty　of　snakes　to　try　the　grease　out　of。　　And　then　。　。　。　and　then。　。　。　。　Travel　all　around；　and　be　in　a　new　town　every　day！　And　see　things！　　The　water…works；　and　Main　Street；　and　the　Soldiers'　Monument；　and　the　Second　Presbyterian　Church。　　All　the　sights　there　are　to　see　in　strange　places。　　And　then　when　the　show　came　back　to　your　own　home…town　next　year；　people　would　wonder　whose　was　that　slim　and　gracile　figure　in　the　green　silk　tights　and　spangled　breech…clout　that　capered　so　nimbly　on　the　bounding　courser's　back；　that　switched　the　natty　switch　and　shrilly　called　out：　〃Hep！　　Hep！〃　They'd　screw　up　their　eyes　to　look　hard；　and　they'd　say：　〃Yes；　sir。　It　is。　　It's　him。　　It's　Willie　Bigelow。　　Well；　of　all　things！〃　　And　they'd　clap　their　hands；　and　be　so　proud　of　you。　　And　they'd　wonder　how　it　was　that　they　could　have　been　so　blind　to　your　many　merits　when　they　had　you　with　them。　　They'd　feel　sorry　that　they　ever　said　you　were　a　〃regular　little　imp；〃　if　ever　there　was　one；　and　that　you　had　the　Old　Boy　in　you　as　big　as　a　horse。　　They'd　feel　ashamed　of　themselves；　so　they　would。　　And　they'd　come　and　apologize　to　you　for　the　way　they　had　acted；　and　you'd　say：　〃Oh；　that's　all　right。　　Forgive　and　forget。〃　　And　they'd　miss　you　at　home；　too。　Your　daddy　would　wish　he　hadn't　whaled　you　the　way　he　did；　just　for　nothing　at　all。　　And　your　mother；　too；　she'd　be　sorry　for　the　way　she　acted　to　you；　tormenting　the　life　and　soul　out　of　you；　sending　you　on　errands　just　when　you　got　a　man　in　the　king　row；　and　making　you　wash　your　feet　in　a　bucket　before　you　went　to　bed；　instead　of　being　satisfied　to　let　you　pump　on　them；　as　any　reasonable　mother　would。　　She'll　think　about　that　when　you're　gone。　　It'll　be　lonesome　then；　with　nobody　to　bang　the　doors；　and　upset　the　cream…pitcher　on　the　clean　table…cloth；　and　fall　over　backward　in　the　rocking…chair　and　break　a　rocker　off。　　Your　daddy　will　sigh　and　say：

〃I　wonder　where　Willie　is　to…night。　　Poor　boy；　I　sometimes　fear　I　was　too　harsh　with　him。〃　　And　your　mother　will　try　to　keep　back　her　tears；　but　she　can't；　and　first　thing　she　knows　she'll　burst　out　crying；　and　。　。　。　　and　。　。　。　　and　old　Maje　will　go　around　the　house　looking　for　you；　and　whining　because　he　can't　find　his　little　playmate　。　。　。　。　It　will　seem　as　if　you　were　dead　…　dead　to　them；　and　。　。　。　。　Smf！　　Smf！

（Confound　that　orchestra　leader　anyhow！　　How　many　times　have　I　got　to　tell　him　that　this　is　the　music…cue　for　〃Where　is　My　Wandering　Boy　To…night？〃）

We　were　all　going　to　get　up　early　enough　to　see　the　show　come　in　at　the　depot。　　Very　few　of　us　did　it。　　Somehow　we　couldn't　seem　to　wake　up。　　Here　and　there　a　hardy　spirit　compasses　the　feat。

All　the　town　is　asleep　when　this　boy　slips　out　of　his　front…gate　and　snicks　the　latch　behind　him　softly。　　It　is　very　still；　so　still　that　though　he　is　more　than　a　mile　away　from　the　railroad　he　can　hear　Johnny　Mara；　the　night　yardmaster；　bawl　out：　〃Run　them　three　empties　over　on　Number　Four　track！〃　the　short　exhaust　of　the　obedient　pony…engine；　and　the　succeeding　crash　of　the　cars　as　they　bump　against　their　fellows。　　It　is　very　still；　scarey　still。　　The　gas…lamp　flaring　and　flickering　among　the　green　maples　at　the　corner　has　a　strange　look　to　him。　　His　footfalls　on　the　sidewalk　sound　so　loud　he　takes　the　soft　middle　of　the　dusty　road。　　He　hears　some　one　pursuing　him　and　his　bosom　contracts　with　fear；　as　he　stands　to　see　who　it　is。　　Although　he　hardly　knows　the　boy　bound　on　the　same　errand　as　his；　he　takes　him　to　his　heart；　as　a　chosen　friend。　　They　are　kin。

On　the　freight…house　platform　they　find　other　boys。　　Some　of　them　have　waited　up　all　night　so　as　not　to　miss　it。　　They　are　from　across　the　tracks。　　They　have　all　the　fun；　those　fellows　do。　　They　can　swear　and　chew　tobacco；　and　play　hookey　from　school　and　have　a　good　time。　　They　get　to　go　barefoot　before　anybody　else；　and　nobody　tells　them　it　will　thin　their　blood　to　go　in　swimming　so　much。　　Yes；　and　they　can　fight；　too。　　They'd　sooner　fight　than　eat。　　Our　boys；　conscious　of　inferiority；　keep　to　themselves。　　The　boys　from　across　the　tracks　show　off　all　the　bad　words　they　can　think　of。　　One　of　them　has　a　mouth…harp　which　he　plays　upon；　now　and　then　opening　his　hands　hollowed　around　the　instrument。　　Patsy　Gubbins　dances　to　the　music；　which　is　a　thing　even　more　reckless　and　daredevil　than　swearing。　　Patsy's　going　with　a　〃troupe〃　some　day。　　Or　else；　he's　going　to　get　a　job　firing　on　an　engine。　　He　isn't　right　sure　which　he　wants　to　do　the　most。

Now　and　then　a　brakeman　goes　by　swinging　his　lantern。　　The　boys　would　like　to　ask　him　what　time　it　is；　but　for　one　thing　they're　too　bashful。　　Being　a　brakeman　is　almost　as　good　as　going　with　a　〃troupe〃　or　a　circus。　　You　get　to　go　to　places　that　way；　too；　Marysville；　and　Mechanicsburg；　and　Harrod's　…　that　is；　if　you're　on　the　local　freight；　and　then　you　lay　over　in　Cincinnati。　　Some　ways　it's　better　than　firing；　and　some　ways　it　isn't　so　good。　　And　then　there　is　another　reason　why　they　don't　ask　the　brakeman　what　time　it　is。　　He'd　say　it　was　〃forty…five〃　or　maybe　〃fifty…three；〃　and　never　tell　what　hour。

〃Say！　　Do　you　know　it's　cold？　　You　wouldn't　think　it　would　be　so　cold　in　the　summer…time。〃

The　maple…trees；　from　being　formless　blobs；　insensibly　begin　to　look　like　lace…work。　　Presently　the　heavens　and　the　earth　are　bathed　in　liquid　blue　that　casts　a　spell　so　potent　on　the　soul　of　him　that　sees　it　that　he　yearns　for　something　he　knows　not　what；　except　that　it　is　utterly　beyond　him；　as　far　beyond　him　as　what　he　means　to　be　will　be　from　what　he　shall　attain　to。　　One　dreams　of　romance　and　renown；　of　all　that　should　be　and　is　not。　　And　as　he　dreams　the　birds　awaken。　　In　the　East　there　comes　a　greenish　tinge。　　Far　up　the　track；　there　is　a　sullen　roar；　and　then　the　hoarse　diapason　of　an　engine　whistle。　　The　roar　strengthens　and　strengthens。　　It　is　the　circus　train。

Under　the　witchcraft　of　the　dreaming　blue；　each　boy　had　a　firm　and　stubborn　purpose。　　Over　and　over　again　he　rehearsed　how　he　would　go　up　to　the　man　that　runs　the　show；　and　say：　〃Please；　mister；　can　I　go　with　you？〃　　And　the　man　would　say；　〃Yes。〃　　（As　easy　as　that。）　　But　the　purpose　wavered　as　he　saw　the　roustabouts　come　tumbling　out；　all　frowsy　and　unwashed；　rubbing　the　sleep　out　of　their　eyes；　cross　and　savage。　　And　the　man　whose　word　they　jump　to　obey；　he's　kind　of　discouraging。　　it's　all　business　with　him。　The　fellows　may　plead　with　their　eyes；　he　never　sees　them。　　If　he　does；　he　tells　them　where　to　get　to　out　of　that　and　how　quick　he　wants　it　done；　in　language　that　makes　the　boldest　efforts　of　the　boys　from　across　the　tracks　seem　puny　in　comparison。　　The　lads　divide　into　two　parties。　　One　follows　the　buggy　of　the　boss　canvasman　to　Vandeman's　lots　where　the　stand　is　made。　　They　will　witness　the　spectacle　of　the　raising　of　the　tents；　but　they　will　also　be　near　the　man　that　runs　the　show；　and　if　all　goes　well　it　may　be　he　will　like　your　looks　and　saunter　up　to　you　and　say：　〃Well；　bub；　and　how　would　you　like　to　travel　with　us？〃　　You　don't　know。　　Things　not　half　so　strange　as　that　have　happened。　　And　if　you　were　right　there　at　the　time　。　。　。　。

The　other　party　lingers　awhile　looking　up　wistfully　at　the　unresponsive　windows　of　the　sleeping…cars；　behind　which　are　the　happy　circus…actors。　　Perhaps　the　show…boy　that　stands　up　on　top　of　his　daddy's　head　will　look　out。　　If　he　should　raise　the　window　and　smile　at　you；　and　get　to　talking　with　you　maybe　he　would