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Updated: June 4, 2025
There was Philip by the camp fire in Arcadia whittling his ridiculous wildwood pipe; Philip aboard the hay-camp and Philip in the garb of a nomadic Greek; Philip unwinding the music-machine for the staring Indians and building himself a tunic with Sho-caw's sewing machine; Philip and a moon above the marsh Utter loyalty and unchanging protection! Shaking, the girl covered her face with her hands.
"Hold on," demurred Luke. "You'll have to excuse your friend just now," said Marco. "Very important, Wildwood," he added. "What is it, Mr. Marco?" inquired Andy. Marco showed two folded sheets of writing paper in his hand. "Your contract with the circus," he explained. "There's a bad hitch in this business. Hope to straighten it out, but we'll have to get right at it. Come to Billy Blow's tent.
Forsooth it is an evil house and a mere piece of hell. But now we are out of it and free in the wildwood, so let us forget it; for indeed it is a grief to remember it. And now once more let us mend the fire, for thy face is growing dim to me, and that misliketh me. Afterwards before we lie down to sleep we will talk a little of the way, whitherward we shall turn our faces to-morrow."
The ringmaster got it started around the ring. "Do your best now, Wildwood," whispered Marco, who with the clown and the manager had followed into the main tent. Andy was on his mettle. He made a run, took a leap and landed on the platform on the horse's back just as he had done a hundred times back at Fairview.
Crash! went the orchestra, and from a box suspended over the trapezes the bottom suddenly dropped out. Following, an agile youthful form shot down through space. Quick as lightning the Benares Brothers swung by their feet, joined hands in mid-air, and the descending form Andy Wildwood catching at the wrists of Thacher, was swung back in a twenty foot circle. Crash! again the orchestra.
"You, Dry-Creek and Jimmy, and Ben and Taller hump yourselves to the wildwood and rustle flowers for the blow-out mesquite'll do and get that Spanish dagger blossom at the corner of the horse corral for the bride to pack. You, Limpy, get out that red and yaller blanket of your'n for Miss Sally's skyirt. Marquis, you'll do 'thout fixin'; nobody don't ever look at the groom."
"Wildwood!" he said, and switched his cane towards Andy's face. "No, you don't!" cried Andy, grasping his arms again. "Jim Tapp, the circus people want you." "Let go. Nobody wants me. I've done nothing." "Call Benares Brothers, the stake your partner hit me with, the stolen mail bag, nothing?" demanded Andy. "You'll come along with me or I'll call the police." Tapp glanced sharply about.
Her signature fixes it otherwise you're left out in the cold." Andy was never so dispirited in all his life. He sat dumb and wretched, like a person suddenly finding his house collapsed all about him, and himself in the midst of its ruins. "Look here, Wildwood," said Marco kindly, arising after a reflective pause, "you think this thing over.
Immediately neighbouring upon the dwelling the garden still bore some resemblance to its former outlines, but, as it drew farther away, it became a park, a wildwood or a preserve.
Swing me out, and swing me in! Trees are bare, but birds begin Twittering to the peeping leaves, On the bough beneath the eaves Wait, one lilac bud I saw. Icy hillsides feel the thaw; April chased off March to-day; Now I catch a glimpse of May. Oh, the smell of sprouting grass! In a blur the violets pass. Whispering from the wildwood come Mayflower's breath and insect's hum.
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