"It's allus like this in the end," he murmured, as he drew a
piece of canvas over the white face and turned away to give
orders to the men who were beginning to load the "props" used
earlier in the performance.
When the show moved on that night it was Jim's strong arms that
lifted the mite of a Polly close to his stalwart heart, and
climbed with her to the high seat on the head wagon. Uncle Toby
was entrusted with the brown satchel in which the mother had
always carried Polly's scanty wardrobe. It seemed to these two
men that the eyes of the woman were fixed steadily upon them.
Barker, the manager, a large, noisy, good-natured fellow, at
first mumbled something about the kid being "excess baggage," but
his objections were only half-hearted, for like the others, he
was already under the hypnotic spell of the baby's round,
confiding eyes, and he eventually contented himself with an
occasional reprimand to Toby, who was now sometimes late on his
cues. Polly wondered, at these times, why the old man's stories
were so suddenly cut short just as she was so "comfy" in the soft
grass at his feet. The boys who used to "look sharp" because of
their boss at loading time, now learned that they might loiter so
long as "Muvver Jim" was "hikin' it round for the kid.
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