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Clown Toby and the big "boss canvas-man" Jim had always taken turns amusing and guarding little Polly, while her mother rode in the ring. So Toby now carried the babe to another side of the lot, and Jim bore the lifeless body of the mother to the distant ticket-wagon, now closed for the night, and laid it upon the seller's cot.
It was during the afternoon performance, and the big tent was filled with women and children, when I went looking for Red Denny, the head canvas-man, who had walked off with my pocket-knife. "Passing by one of the dressing tents I glanced in through a hole in the canvas to see if I could locate him.
"Ain't this my dod-gasted luck?" he muttered to himself, as his eye again travelled to the boss canvas-man. "You get out a' here, Jim," he shouted, "an' start them wagons. The show's got to go on, Poll or no Poll." He turned with his hand on the door-knob and jerked out a grudging thanks to the pastor. "It's all fired good of you to take her in," he said, "but it's tough to lose her. Good night!"
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