Work and Win; Or, Noddy Newman on a Cruise by Oliver Optic (books suggested by bill gates TXT) 📕

act so easily imitated.

"Try it again, Nesmond," said Whippleby.

The distinguished athlete went on for half an hour, performing his antics; and Noddy repeated them, though he had never before attempted some of them. Nesmond gave it up.

"Well, young man, you can do almost everything, but you are as clumsy and ungraceful as a bear about it. You need a little training on your positions, and you will make a first-class tumbler," said the manager.

The men had ceased to laugh, and even looked admiringly on the prodigy who had so suddenly developed himself. Noddy felt that his fortune was already made, and he was almost ready to snap his[77] fingers at the court-house. Here was a chance for him to "work and win," and it was entirely to his taste.

The manager then questioned him in regard to his family connections; but as Noddy had none, his answers were very brief. He had no father nor mother, and he had no home; he was no runaway, for there was no one living who had any claim upon him. These answers were entirely satisfactory to the head man.

"What salary do you expect?" asked the manager, when he had assured himself there was no one to interfere with any arrangement he might make.

"What do you give?" asked Noddy.

"Well, we give different salaries, depending on the men."

"You have seen what I can do—what will you give me? Talk right up, or I shall have nothing to do with it," added Noddy, borrowing an expression from a highly respectable horse jockey, who had a language of his own.

"I'll give you your board and clothes, and your dresses for the first season."

"Nothing of that sort for me," replied Noddy,[78] promptly. "I want to know how much I am to have in hard cash."

"Very well; I'll give you five dollars a week, and you find yourself."

Five dollars a week looked like a large salary to Noddy, though it was not one-fourth of what the distinguished Mr. Nesmond received, and he immediately closed the bargain.

"I'll put you on the bills for the next town we visit. What's your name?"

"Noddy Newman."

"What?"

The embryo performer repeated his name.

"That won't do; you must have a better name than that. Arthur De Forrest—how will that suit you?"

"First rate," replied Noddy, who was very accommodating in minor matters.

"We show in Disbury to-morrow night, and you must be ready to do your business then, Mr. De Forrest," added the manager. "After the performance this afternoon Mr. Whippleby will give you a few lessons."

"But where shall I get a dress?"

"I will furnish you one, and take it out of your[79] salary. You had better put it on when you practice, so as to get used to it."

Noddy was highly pleased with all these arrangements, and could not help congratulating himself on the happy thought which had induced him to join the circus. It was true, and he could not help noticing it, that the men around him were not such people as Mr. Grant, and others whom he had been in the habit of seeing at Woodville. All of them swore terribly; their breath smelt of liquor, and they talked the language of a depravity to which Noddy, with all his waywardness, was a stranger. There were boys no older than himself in the company, but they did not seem a whit less depraved than the older ones.

Though the novice was not a young man of high aims and purposes, he was not much pleased with his companions. He was what they termed "green," and it was quite plain to him that there would be a fight before many days had passed by, for he was too high-spirited to submit tamely to the insults which were heaped upon him.

During the afternoon performance, he stood at the gates of the ring, where the horses enter; and Mr. Whippleby sent him before the public for the first[80] time, to bring out a whip which had been left there.

"Noddy Newman!" shouted a boy among the spectators.

The young athlete heard his name, and too late he remembered that he had exposed himself to the gaze of the constables, who might by this time be in search of him. During the rest of the afternoon he kept himself out of sight; but the mischief had already been done.[81]

CHAPTER VII. THE RING-MASTER.

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