The Circus Boys On The Flying Rings | Page 6

rather than a sentence.
"To school, Uncle, of course."
"School's been out more than an hour. I say, where have you been?"
"I stopped on the way for a few minutes."
"You did?" exploded Abner Adams. "Where?"
"Teddy Tucker and I stopped to read a circus bill over there on Clover Street. We did not stop but a few minutes. Was there any harm in that?"
"Harm? Circus bill--"
"And I want to go to the circus, too, Uncle, when it comes here. You know? I have not been to anything of that sort since mother died--not once. I'll work and earn the money. I can go in the evening after my work is finished. Please let me go, Uncle."
For a full minute Abner Adams was too overcome with his emotions to speak. He hobbled about in a circle, smiting the ground with his cane, alternately brandishing it threateningly in the air over the head of the unflinching Phil.
"Circus!" he shouted. "I might have known it! I might have known it! You and that Tucker boy are two of a kind. You'll both come to some bad ending. Only fools and questionable characters go to such places--"
"My mother and father went, and they always took me," replied the boy, drawing himself up with dignity. "You certainly do not include them in either of the two classes you have named?"
"So much the worse for them! So much the worse for them. They were a pair of--"
"Uncle, Uncle!" warned Phil. "Please don't say anything against my parents. I won't stand it. Don't forget that my mother was your own sister, too."
"I'm not likely to forget it, after she's bundled such a baggage as you into my care. You're turning out a worthless, good-for- nothing loaf--"
"You haven't said whether or not I might go to the circus, Uncle," reminded Phil.
"Circus? No! I'll have none of my money spent on any such worthless--"
"But I didn't ask you to spend your money, even though you have plenty of it. I said I would earn the money--"
"You'll have a chance to earn it, and right quick at that. No, you won't go to any circus so long as you're living under my roof."
"Very well, Uncle, I shall do as you wish, of course," answered Phil, hiding his disappointment as well as he could. The lad shifted his bundle of books to the other hand and started slowly for the house.
Abner Adams hobbled about until he faced the lad again, an angry gleam lighting up his squinting eyes.
"Come back here!"
Phil halted, turning.
"I said come back here."
The lad did so, his self-possession and quiet dignity never deserting him for an instant. This angered the crabbed old uncle more than ever.
"When will you get through school?"
"Tomorrow, I believe."
"Huh! Then, I suppose you intend to loaf for the rest of the summer and live on my hard earned savings. Is that it?"
"No, sir; I hadn't thought of doing anything of the sort. I thought--"
"What did you think?"
"I thought I would find something to do. Of course, I do not expect to be idle. I shall work at something until school begins again next fall, then, of course, I shall not be able to do so much."
"School! You've had enough school! In my days boys didn't spend the best part of their lives in going to school. They worked."
"Yes, sir; I am willing to work, too. But, Uncle, I must have an education. I shall be able to earn so much more then, and, if necessary, I shall be able to pay you for all you have spent on me, which isn't much, you know."
"What, what? You dare to be impudent to me? You--"
"No, sir, I am not impudent. I have never been that and I never shall be; but you are accusing me wrongfully."
"Enough. You have done with school--"
"You--you mean that I am not to go to school any more--that I have got to go through life with the little I have learned? Is that what you mean, Uncle?" asked the boy, with a sinking heart.
"You heard me."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Work!"
"I am working and I shall be working," Phil replied.
"You're right you will, or you'll starve. I have been thinking this thing over a lot lately. A boy never amounts to anything if he's mollycoddled and allowed to spend his days depending on someone else. Throw him out and let him fight his own way. That's what my father used to tell me, and that's what I'm going to say to you."
"What do you mean, Uncle?"
"Mean? Can't you understand the English language? Have I got to draw a picture to make you understand? Get to work!"
"I am going to as soon as school is out."
"You'll do it now. Get yourself out of my house, bag and baggage!"
"Uncle, Uncle!" protested the lad in amazement. "Would