it; and Uncle
Dan'l says I could eat a pair of boots an' never wink at 'em; but I
don't just believe that."

As the driver made no reply to this remark Toby curled himself up on one
corner of the seat, and watched with no little interest all that was
passing on around him. Each of the wagons had a lantern fastened to the
hind axle, and these lights could be seen far ahead on the road, as if a
party of fire-flies had started in single file on an excursion. The
trees by the side of the road stood out weird and ghostly-looking in the
darkness, and the rumble of the carts ahead and behind formed a musical
accompaniment to the picture that sounded strangely doleful.

Mile after mile was passed over in perfect silence, save now and then
when the driver would whistle a few bars of some very dismal tune that
would fairly make Toby shiver with its mournfulness. Eighteen miles was
the distance from Guilford to the town where the next performance of the
circus was to be given, and as Toby thought of the ride before them it
seemed as if the time would be almost interminable. He curled himself up
on one corner of the seat, and tried very hard to go to sleep; but just
as his eyes began to grow heavy the wagon would jolt over some rock or
sink deep in some rut, till Toby, the breath very nearly shaken out of
his body, and his neck almost dislocated, would sit bolt-upright,
clinging to the seat with both hands, as if he expected each moment to
be pitched out into the mud.

The driver watched him closely, and each time that he saw him shaken up
and awakened so thoroughly he would indulge in one of his silent
laughing spells, until Toby would wonder whether he would ever recover
from it. Several times had Toby been awakened, and each time he had seen
the amusement his sufferings caused, until he finally resolved to put an
end to the sport by keeping awake.

"What is your name?" he asked of the driver, thinking a conversation
would be the best way to rouse himself into wakefulness.

"Waal," said the driver, as he gathered the reins carefully in one hand,
and seemed to be debating in his mind how he should answer the question,
"I don't know as I know myself, it's been so long since I've heard it."

Toby was wide enough awake now, as this rather singular problem was
forced upon his mind. He revolved the matter silently for some moments,
and at last he asked, "What do folks call you when they want to speak to
you?"

"They always call