Although Toby had done his work so well he was far from feeling
happy; he was both angry and sad as he thought of the cruel blows
that had been inflicted, and he had plenty of leisure to repent of
the rash step he had taken, although he could not see very clearly
how he was to get away from it. He thought that he could not go
back to Guilford, for Uncle Daniel would not allow him to come to
his house again; and the hot scalding tears ran down his cheeks as
he realized that he was homeless and friendless in this great big
world.
It was while he was in this frame of mind that the procession, all
gaudy with flags, streamers, and banners, entered the town. Under
different circumstances this would have been a most delightful
day for him, for the entrance of a circus into Guilford had always
been a source of one day's solid enjoyment; but now he was the most
disconsolate and unhappy boy in all that crowd.
He did not ride throughout the entire route of the procession, for
Mr. Lord was anxious to begin business, and the moment the tenting
ground was reached the wagon containing Mr. Lord's goods was driven
into the inclosure and Toby's day's work began.
He was obliged to bring water, to cut up the lemons, fetch and carry
fruit from the booth in the big tent to the booth on the outside,
until he was ready to drop with fatigue, and, having had no time
for breakfast, was nearly famished.
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