ng, considering the fact that he
wore glasses and was cross eyed, he winked at Toby. A wink from Mr. Lord
must have been intended to convey a great deal, because, owing to the
defect in his eyes, it required no little exertion, and even then could
not be considered as a really first class wink.

That wink, distorted as it was, gladdened Toby's heart immensely and
took away nearly all the sting of the scolding with which Uncle Daniel
greeted him when he reached home.

That night--despite the fact that he was going to travel with the
circus, despite the fact that his home was not a happy or cheerful
one--Toby was not in a pleasant frame of mind. He began to feel for the
first time that he was doing wrong; and as he gazed at Uncle Daniel's
stern, forbidding looking face, it seemed to have changed somewhat from
its severity, and caused a great lump of something to come up in his
throat as he thought that perhaps he should never see it again. Just
then one or two kind words would have prevented him from running away,
bright as the prospect of circus life appeared.

It was almost impossible for him to eat anything, and this very
surprising state of affairs attracted the attention of Uncle Daniel.

"Bless my heart! what ails the boy?" asked the old man, as he peered
over his glasses at Toby's well filled plate, which was usually emptied
so quickly. "Are ye sick, Toby, or what is the matter with ye?"

"No, I hain't sick," said Toby, with a sigh; "but I've been to the
circus, an' I got a good deal to eat."

"Oho! You spent that cent I give ye, eh, an' got so much that it made ye
sick?"

Toby thought of the six peanuts which he had bought with the penny Uncle
Daniel had given him; and, amid all his homesickness, he could not help
wondering if Uncle Daniel ever made himself sick with only six peanuts
when he was a boy.

As no one paid any further attention to Toby, he pushed back his plate,
arose from the table, and went with a heavy heart to attend to his
regular evening chores. The cow, the hens, and even the pigs came in for
a share of his unusually kind attention; and as he fed them all the
big tears rolled down his cheeks as he thought that perhaps never
again would he see any of them. These dumb animals had all been Toby's
confidants; he had poured out his griefs in their ears, and fancied,
when the world or Uncle Daniel had used him unusually hard, that they
sympathized with him. Now he was leaving them forever, an