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HOME > Children's Novel > A Little Mother to the Others > CHAPTER XIX. "A PIGMY I CALL HIM."
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CHAPTER XIX. "A PIGMY I CALL HIM."
The seaside town of Madersley was crowded to excess. It was the height of the summer season, and Holt's circus was doing a roaring trade. There were two exhibitions daily, and every available corner in the great tent was crammed to excess. The spectators said that they came principally to see the little dark-eyed girl ride. For Diana had taken to the life almost as kindly as a young duck takes to the water. She had learned her part quickly, and in a very short time she could ride even the most spirited horse. She was really almost destitute of fear, and was even seen to laugh when she was put upon the back of a buck-jumper, who did his utmost to toss her off. There were always men or women close by to catch her if she did fail to go through any of the rings, the large paper balloons, or the other obstructions put in her way. Her piquant little face, the bold expression of her eyes, her fearless manner, and the unmistakable look of babyhood about her, roused the spectators to a frenzy of admiration.

But though Diana did well and delighted Ben Holt, Orion by no means followed her example. Put to the test, poor little Orion had little of the real giant about him. He was an ordinary little boy, with pretty black eyes and a good-humored, somewhat touching expression of face, but Diana was anything but an ordinary girl.
[204]

Orion, having slipped once or twice from the back of Greased Lightning, became terribly afraid of the beast, and always turned white to his little lips when he was going through his exercises. As a rule, Ben Holt always trained the novices himself, and although he was kind to Diana, he soon began to have a thorough contempt for little Orion.

"He's a peaky little chap," he said to his wife. "Why, he aint even worth the twenty shillin's I paid for 'im. Now the little 'un—the gal—there's a fortune in her; but the boy—I have no patience with the boy."

Meanwhile, he began to use rough language and threats to the child, and once or twice he even touched the little fellow with his great whip. On this occasion Orion lost every scrap of nerve he possessed, and fell flat down upon the sanded floor of the arena, shivering and crying painfully. Diana did not happen to be present. When she was by, small child that she was, Uncle Ben never showed at his worst, and Orion, looking round now in vain for his sister, gave himself up for lost.

"Now listen to me, you young villain," said the tyrant; "I'll force you to do what I want. You get on Greased Lightning's back this very minute."

Little Orion struggled painfully to his feet. A good-natured girl, who stood near, tried to say a word in his favor.

"Don't you forget that he's very young, Ben Holt," she said. "It will be all the worse for you if you are too hard on the little kid."

"I'll thank you not to give me any of your sauce, Susan Jenkins," was the angry reply.

Susan Jenkins, a pretty, slight, fair-haired girl, who
[205]
went by the graceful name of Ariel in the circus programme, did not venture to say anything further, but in her heart she resolved to give Diana a hint of the true state of the case.

Orion was once more lifted on Greased Lightning's back, and the manager cracking his whip, the beautiful horse began to trot round and round the arena. At first the creature went fairly quietly, and Orion managed to keep his seat. His piteous white face, the black shadows under his eyes, his little trembling hands were noticed, however, by Susan. She kept near on purpose and tried to encourage him by smiles and nods. When he passed close to her he heard her hearty voice saying, "Well done, little chap! You jest stick on and you'll be as right as a trivet."

A strangled sob by way of answer rose in Orion's throat. Alas! he knew only too well that he could not stick on. Louder and faster grew the crack of the manager's whip, and faster and fleeter trotted Greased Lightning. It was impossible for Orion to keep his seat; he had nothing to cling to, nothing to hold on to.

"You will have to do all this before the company to-morrow," called out the manager; "and now, no more of that easy sitting still. You jest scramble to your feet and stand on the 'orse's back."

"I can't! I'll be killed!" cried the child, whose face was white to his very lips.

Crack went the great whip.

"Stand up this minute, or you'll have a taste of this about your legs," said the man, in a brutal tone.

In deadly fear the little fellow struggled to his feet; he looked wildly round him, the horse trotted forward, the child fell on his face and hands and clutched
[206]
hold of the black mane. This enraged the spirited beast, who began to dance and curvet about, and the next moment, but for the speedy interference of Susan Jenkins, little Orion would have measured his length upon the floor. Even as it was he was hurt and shaken, and lay weeping and trembling in her arms.

"Now, Susan, you jest listen to me," said Holt, in an enraged voice. "I aint a-goin' to stand this sort of thing. That little chap has got t............
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