Three dollars and twenty-five cents was the total amount of
his treasure, and, large as that sum appeared to him, he could not
satisfy himself that he had sufficient to enable him to get back
to the home which he had so wickedly left. Whenever he thought of
this home, of the Uncle Daniel who had in charity cared for him --
a motherless, fatherless boy -- and of returning to it, with not
even as much right as the Prodigal Son, of whom he had heard Uncle
Daniel tell, his heart sank within him and he doubted whether he
would be allowed to remain even if he should be so fortunate as
ever to reach Guilford again.
This day passed, so far as Toby was concerned, very much as had the
others: he could not satisfy either of his employers, try as hard
as he might; but, as usual, he met with two or three kindly disposed
people, who added to the fund that he was accumulating for his
second venture of running away by little gifts of money, each one
of which gladdened his heart and made his trouble a trifle less
hard to bear.
During the entire week he was thus equally fortunate. Each day
added something to his fund, and each night it seemed to Toby that
he was one day nearer the freedom for which he so ardently longed.
The skeleton, the fat lady, Old Ben, the Albino Children, little
Ella, and even the sword swallower, all gave him a kindly word
as they passed him while he was at his work, or saw him as the
preparations for the grand entree were being made.
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