as rough as a bear, and swore like
a pirate. He was just like a cat's paw,--he kept the sharp claws down
while the dear people were present; but now he thrust them out.

Noddy found the "business" was no joke. Mr. Whippleby did not so regard
it, now that the training had commenced; and the novice found that he
had placed himself under a very tyrannical master. He made his bows and
flourished his arms, with all the grace he could command for a time; but
he did not come up to his severe teacher's standard.

"Do that again," said Mr. Whippleby, with savage emphasis. "Don't hurry
it."

Noddy did it again, as slowly as he could; but he was apparently just as
far from perfection as before.

"If you don't do better than that, I'll put the whip around your legs!"
shouted the impatient ring-master. "One of the mules could do it
better."

"I did it as well as I could," replied Noddy, rather tartly.

"You will do it better than that, or your legs will smart. Now do it
again."

Noddy obeyed. He did not think the ring-master really intended to strike
him with the long whip he held in his hand, but supposed he was so much
in the habit of threatening the clown with the lash, that he did it now
from the force of habit. His last attempt did not satisfy Mr. Whippleby,
who stormed at him more furiously than before.

"Do you think I have nothing better to do than waste my time over a
blockhead like you? I haven't had my bitters yet. Now do it again; and
if you fail this time you will catch it."

Noddy turned his somerset; but he had hardly recovered himself before he
received a smart cut from the whip in the tenderest part of his leg.
There was a young lion in the novice, and a blow from any man was more
than he could endure. He expressed his mind in regard to the outrage
with such freedom, that Mr. Whippleby lost his temper, if he ever had
any to lose, and he began to lash the unfortunate youth in the most
brutal manner.

Noddy, finding there was no satisfaction to be obtained by facing the
ring-master, fled from the spot, leaping up on the seats where the
spectators sat. He was maddened to fury by the harsh treatment he had
received; and thirsting for vengeance, he seized whatever missiles he
could find, and hurled them at his persecutor. His legs seemed to be on
fire from the effects of the blows he had received. He rubbed them for a
moment, while he hurled the most bitter denunciations at the
ring-master.

"Now, come do