Looking at the matter steadily, the only reason Tip knew was, that Ellis Holbrook and Howard Minturn never went; their fathers had taught them differently. Ellis, he knew, rather looked down on people who did go,--called them low. This had never troubled Tip before, because he had always known himself to be low; but now, wasn't he trying to climb?

Didn't respectable people generally think that circuses were bad things?

No, poor Tip, they didn't; there was Mr. Bailey, a rich man,--so rich and so respectable that his son wouldn't stoop to lend Tip his spelling-book at school,--yet Mr. Bailey went to the circus last year and took all his children. So did Mr. Anderson and Mr. Stone, and oh! dozens of others, rich, great men. Well, did good people go? and Tip's thoughts strayed back to Mr. Holbrook, and Mr. Parker, and Mr. Minturn, yea, and others, whose voices he had heard on the streets and in stores, condemning the circus.

But then, after all, where was the harm? There was Kitty, how much she wanted to go; if he could manage to take her, how glad she would be! At this point Satan thought there was a chance for him to speak; so he walked along with Tip, talking like this:

"Kitty has never asked you to do anything for her before. You want to help her; you want to get her to go to Sunday school and to read the Bible. Now's your time: if you take her to the circus, very likely she will do what you want her to."

This was a little too absurd, even for Tip, who wanted to believe it all so badly; but who ever heard of taking any one to a circus in order to get them to love Jesus? Tip knew altogether too well for his comfort, that day, that Mr. Holbrook's example was the safe one. At last he drew a little sigh of relief; he needn't think about it any more, for he had no money: he had never owned fifty cents at one time in his life; so the question, after all, would settle itself.

No, it wouldn't. Mr. Dewey stood in the door of his market, looking up and down the street.

"Hallo, Tip!" he called, as Tip turned the corner; "you're the boy I must have been looking for, I guess. If you'll carry home packages for me for an hour, and not steal one of them, I'll give you two tickets for the circus."

Tip's cheeks glowed at the word steal, and he came near telling Mr. Dewey to carry his own packages, if he were afraid to trust him.

But then, those two tickets! Here was a chance for Kitty. The conflict commenced again.

A whole hour in which to decide it, for Tip meant to do the work any way.

Up and down the streets, stopping at this house and that with his parcels, back again to the market for more, all the time in a whirl of thought. The question was almost decided when the two green tickets were placed in his hand; it closed over them eagerly. He hurried towards home.

Towards home led him past the brick hotel. In the bar-room sat some of the circus men; he knew them by their heavy beards, which almost covered their faces; knew them also because he knew every man in town, just who were strangers and who were not. Well, these circus men were very busy drinking brandy and playing cards. Tip stopped and looked in at them; and, ignorant boy as he was, the thought that good, respectable people would go to see and hear such men as these, seemed very strange. It couldn't be right, could it? How was it? A great many nice people must have blundered terribly if it were wrong; and, on the other hand, if it were not wrong, how did the minister happen to be so afraid of these things? Why did he himself have so many queer feelings about the matter?

What a trouble he was in! If only he could find somebody or something that would decide it for him! Long before this he had walked away from the hotel; now he had crossed the bridge, gone around behind the mill, and was very near his seat under the elm. Down he sat when he came to it, still holding fast the two green tickets, but with the other hand diving down in his pocket for the little Bible. That was getting to be a habit with him, to hunt for this lamp of his whenever he was in darkness. He turned the leaves now with a perplexed face. If he only knew where to turn for help!

"Let me see," he said. "Where was that verse that I learned for the Sunday school concert? I liked the sound of that; it was somewhere in this book full of short, queer verses. I can find it; yes, I see it.

'For the Lord shall be thy confidence, and shall keep thy foot from being taken.'"

It didn't seem to help him; he shook his head slowly, still glancing on over the verses, until suddenly his listless look vanished, and he read aloud;--"Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pa.s.s not by it, turn from it, and pa.s.s away."

"That means them," said Tip, "and me. They're wicked men, that's certain: they were drinking and gambling,--swearing too, I guess; and this verse reads about them just as plain as day. It says, 'Don't go near them,'--says it over and over again; and I'll mind it, I will. I'll take these tickets right back to Mr. Dewey, so they won't be here to put me in mind of going."

No sooner said than done; he turned around and fairly galloped up the hill, around the corner, and landed nearly breathless at the market.

"Here, Mr. Dewey," he said promptly, "I've brought back your tickets; I don't want 'em this time."

"What's up now?" asked Mr. Dewey, coming out from behind his desk, and eyeing the panting boy curiously. "Won't the tickets pa.s.s?"

"Not if they wait till I pa.s.s 'em," answered Tip in his prompt, saucy way. "I ain't going to the circus, not an _inch_," he added, as if to a.s.sure himself that he meant it.

"But why not?"

"Oh, I've got reasons."

"Well, now, Tip," said Mr. Dewey, "that's really astonishing! Suppose you give us a few of your reasons. We don't know what to make of this."

Tip didn't know what to say; he hesitated and thought, and finally did the best thing he _could_,--spoke out boldly. "I've made up my mind that I won't go to any more circuses, _ever_! I don't believe in 'em as much as I did."

That wasn't it yet,--he had not owned his Master in the answer. Neither was Mr. Dewey satisfied.

"But, Tip, give us the _reasons_; this is such a sudden change, you know."

"Well," said Tip, "I've been reading about them just now."

"About whom?"

"Why, them circus fellows. They're up here at the tavern; they're drinking and fighting, and I don't know what; and I guess, by the looks of things, they're pretty wicked. The book I was reading said, Don't go near wicked men, turn around and go the other way; and I _mean_ to." And with this Tip whisked out of the house and around the corner.

Mr. Dewey shrugged his shoulders.

"The world turns around, sure enough," he said at last.

"How do you know that?" and Mr. Minturn set his market basket on the step, and fanned himself with his hat. "I'm my own boy to-day, you see; give me something for my dinner. How did you find out that the world turned around?"

"Why, Tip Lewis has taken to preaching against circuses. Will you have a roast to-day, Mr. Minturn? I gave him a ticket, and he just rushed in with it and informed us he wasn't going to circuses any more, because the Bible says they are wicked fellows. What do you think of that?"

"Humph!" said Mr. Minturn. "The Bible says it would be better for a man, sometimes, if a millstone were about his neck, and he were in the bottom of the sea. I'd look out for that, if I were you. Hurry up with your meat; I ought to be at the store."

Tip went home to Kitty. She still swung on the gate; at least she was there when he came up.

"Oh, Tip," she said, "are you going to take me? Oh, Tip, _do_! I never asked you for anything before."

Tip walked slowly up the yard, with his hands in his pockets, troubled,--not knowing what to say, or how to say it. At last he stopped and wheeled about. "Kitty, I can't; I can't go. I could get tickets if I dared, but I don't mean to go any more. They're bad, wicked men, and I'm trying to be"--

But Kitty twitched herself away from him, and wouldn't hear any more.

"Do go off!" she said. "You're a mean, ugly, hateful boy! I'm sorry you got so awful good, if you can't do that little much for me. Go away and let me alone."

Even in his sore trouble a little flash of joy shot through Tip's heart.

He _was_ different, then. Kitty had noticed it; she knew he was trying to be different. There _must_ be a little bit of change in him.

CHAPTER XI.

"Avoid it, pa.s.s not by it, turn from it, and pa.s.s away."

Over and over in his mind did Tip repeat this verse; it seemed to sound all around him, and mixed up with everything he did. And yet he went out of the house that evening, and turned straight down the street in the direction leading to the tented circus grounds, walking along slowly, talking to himself.

"It won't do any harm just to listen to the music. I don't mean to go in--of course I don't! Suppose I'd do _that_, after all I said to Kitty!

Besides, I couldn't if I would; I haven't got any ticket. I'm just going to walk down that way, and see if there's lots of folks going, and if the music sounds nice."

"Avoid it, pa.s.s not by it." Oh yes, Tip knew; he heard the voice, yet on he went; beginning to walk swiftly, only saying in answer, "I ain't going in; I couldn't if I wanted to; and I don't want to."

By and by he came within sight of the tents and within sound of the music, which, to his untaught ears, was wonderfully beautiful; came up even to the very door of the large tent, bewitched to go just a step nearer, though he didn't mean to go in, not he.

Yes, the people were crowding in. Mr. Dougla.s.s stood by the door. Tip knew him very well; that is, he knew he lived in a large house and had plenty of money; and he knew, when the men were trying to raise any money, some one was sure to say, "Go to Mr. Dougla.s.s; he's always ready to give."