Watch Yourself Go By Part 55

Alfred had separated himself from his home several times but never decided to leave it for any lengthy period; but now the time had arrived when it seemed to him the parting of the ways in his ambitious life was at hand.

On the dead walls, fences and old buildings, were pasted highly colored show bills announcing the coming of Thayer & Noyes Great American Circus. Alfred decided he would go hence as a member of the troupe.

The humdrum life of the old town had begun to wear on his energetic feelings. There were social pleasures sufficient to make the days and nights joyous, but Alfred was thinking beyond the days thereof.

The circus had come and gone. "I will take your address. If anything occurs that I can use you I will write. You can expect a letter from me soon." With these words Dr. Thayer crushed Alfred's hopes.

Alfred voted the show the best he had ever witnessed, but the concert, the after show that promised so much and gave so little, he condemned.

After writing several letters and destroying them, deciding they did not fulfill all requirements, the following letter was mailed:

BROWNSVILLE, FAYETTE CO., PA.

DR. JAMES L. THAYER:

RESPECTED SIR: I take my pen in hand to acquaint you with the effect your show had on our people. It is the opinion of all who take interest in actors and should know, that your show was better than George F. Bailey's and it was considered the best we ever had. Brownsville people are hard to please. They see so much it must be choice if it suits them. Your circus suited all.

I have heard many actors declare Brownsville was the hardest town to please they ever tackled. An English sleight of hand man played Jeffries Hall three nights. He said they were a "bit thick." Alf Burnett, the humorist, compared Brownsville to slush ice. Bob Stickney was the best one in your show.

Now comes the news that I hate to tell (and this was the sole reason that prompted the letter). Your after-concert is a bad recommend for your real show. I reckon one thing that made it appear worse is we have a regular minstrel show on hand all the time. I'm at the head of it, and most of the people in town know our jokes and songs by heart and when your concert people told them they did not tell them right and our people noticed the mistakes, and of course you couldn't expect them to laugh at the jokes anyway.

Now you promised to write me. If you can do so, I can go to your show most any time providing you do not get too far away from Brownsville. Please send me where you're going to list. I am sure I can make a heap of improvement in your concert and I know you do not want people anywhere to call you an old fraud as they have done here.

Your most obedient servant, ALFRED GRIFFITH HATFIELD.

P. S. Please let me know what you can afford to pay a prime concert actor. Between times I can help out in the circus ring if you have clothes fit to do it in.

In due time this reply was received:

FAIRMONT, VA.

MR. HATFIELD:

Your letter duly received. You will find our advance route for the next ten days enclosed. You can join at any time it suits your convenience. Your salary will be based upon the value and extent of services you can render this company. After a trial, if your ability is not what you represented it to be, your engagement will be ended without prejudice to you or expense to this firm.

Respectfully yours, THAYER AND NOYES, Per B. L.

P. S. Send your professional name and billing.

Alfred read and re-read the letter and immediately began making preparations to tempt fate once more. The preparations mostly consisted in surrept.i.tiously secreting his wearing apparel in the old barn where Node had labored so long on his great inventions. It was Alfred's intention to leave home clandestinely. As usual with boys in his frame of mind he did not dare to trust himself to advise with anyone; like boys in general, he did not desire advice. Approval was that which he most craved.

Uniontown was decided upon as the place to join the circus. Alfred felt the leaving of home and family meant more to him than ever before. At times he was buoyed up by hopes of success. He would argue with himself thusly: I have promised to join the show. They need me; they will be expecting me. This is the opportunity I have been looking for.

Alfred spent all his spare time at home with his mother, sisters and brothers. His usual haunts in town were forgotten. Family and friends noted the change and wondered thereat. Lin was unstinted in her praise.

Lin a.s.serted from the wildest, he had become the tamest boy in Brownsville. "He'll eat out of your hand now," she a.s.sured Mrs. Todd.

Mr. Todd jerked out a "huh" as he advised them to keep their eyes on the "devil ketcher." "He's just sittin' the megs for another outbreak. He's compilin' some devilment, yer ken bet yer bottom dollar. He kan't fool me twice."

It was the day previous to Alfred's intended departure. He had been at home all day. He gave his sled to brother Joe. It was summer and the steel soles were greased to keep them from rusting. Lin would not permit Joe to haul it over the floor claiming it would grease everything it touched.

To brother Bill fell s.h.i.+nny clubs and bats, marbles and a kite. Sister Lizzie was the recipient of more than a quart of various colored beads taken from Aunt Lib's Jenny Lind waist. Ida Belle, the baby was remembered with a big Dutch doll that rolled its eyes, the mother with an ornamental sugar bowl and Lin with a pair of puff combs. A pair of skates and a bow and arrow were given to Cousin Charley.

The greater effort Alfred made to ease his mind, the more conscience stricken he became. Try as he would he could not force the gayety he feigned. He clung to the baby sister every moment he was in the house.

Lin, in an adjoining room, heard him ask the child if she would miss her big "bruzzer" when he was gone. Entering the room she found Alfred in tears, the sympathetic child stroking his face. Alfred endeavored to swallow the lump in his throat but he only sobbed the more. It did him good as ashamed as he felt.

Lin looked him over suspiciously as she, in a voice as commanding as she would pitch it, said:

"Look here, ye can't bamboozle me another minnit. What's on yer mind?

Spit it out afore it spills. Get it out of yer sistum and yer'll feel a hull lot better. Thar hain't a durned dud of yers in this house. Air yu fixin' to fly the coop? If ye air, don't go off like a thief afore daylight. Go away so you won't be ashamed to k.u.m back. k.u.m on now, let's hear from you! I'll durn soon tell you whar to head in."

Alfred made a full and complete confession.

"So yer fixin' to run off and break the hearts of all at home, an' put a dent in your own. For a week ye been jumpin' to make yerself more dear to 'em afore ye hurt 'em. Yer hain't learnin' much with all yer schoolin'. When do the retreat begin?" banteringly demanded Lin.

"Tomorrow," feebly answered Alfred.

That night, the family were in the big room, mother sewing, the children playing about her. Lin, seated behind the mother, repeatedly signaled Alfred to begin his talk to the mother as per his promise. The boy looked another direction but Lin never took her eyes off his face. Her gaze became painful. Finally he began:

"Muz, do you think Pap would be mad if I was to go away while he is in Pittsburgh?"

The mother, without taking her eyes off her work, said: "I hope you're not going to Uncle Jake's again. You'll wear your welcome out, won't you?"

"No, I'm going away on business. I'm tired and sick of the way things are going with me. I see nothing ahead for me and I'm going to strike out for myself."

The mother put down her sewing and looked very seriously. Lin, from behind her, nodded vigorously for him to go on.

"Look at Dan Livingstone," Alfred continued; "he never had anything until he went off with Capt. Abrams. Now see where he is and I don't know how many boys have gone away and all have done well. All I need is to get out of this town and I know I can do something for myself."

"Does Capt. Abrams want to take you with him," anxiously inquired the mother.

"Oh, no, he never said a word to me about it, but I know I could go with him if I wanted to."

"Well, where do you think of going?" questioned the mother.

Alfred hesitated a second.

"Well, first I'm going to try it with a circus but I don't expect to stay long. I'm just going on trial."

Noting the look of worriment on the face of the mother he continued:

"I know I won't do. They almost tell me so in a letter and it's only to Uniontown, twelve miles away. I won't be gone long," and he caught the baby up, tossed it up, and pretended to be very jolly.

The matter was gone over and over with the mother who insisted that Alfred remain at home until the return of the father. If he could obtain his father's consent he could go.

Lin endeavored to a.s.sist the boy by remarking: "Well, if he's jes goin'

for a trial, Uniontown is so close to hum, you could walk back if ye hain't fit fer the work." The mother protested to the last.

Alfred had been so very liberal in bestowing presents to ease his conscience that he had but forty-six cents in his purse when the leaving time came. He was acquainted with all the old stage drivers on the line.

It was his intention to walk up Town Hill, rest under the big locust trees at the brow of the hill until the stage coach arrived, the horses walking slowly ascending the long hill, he would get up beside the driver or crawl in the boot on the rear of the stage coach.