RIDE A COCK-HORSE.
IT was a drizzly day in the old market-town of Banbury. The clouds hunglow: all the world was wrapped in sulky mist. When the sun tried toshine out, as once or twice he did, his face looked like a dull yellowspot against the sky, and the clouds hurried up at once and extinguishedhim. Children tapped on window panes, repeating--
"Rain, rain, go away, Come again some other day."
But the rain would not take the hint, and after awhile the sun gave uphis attempts, hid his head, and went away disgusted, to shine somewhereelse.
"It's too bad, it's _too_ bad!" cried Alice Flower, the Mayor's littledaughter, looking as much out of sorts as the weather itself.
"You mustn't say too bad. It is God who makes it rain or shine, and Heis always right," remarked her Aunt.
"Yes--I know," replied Alice in a timid voice. "But, Aunty, I did wantto go to the picnic very much."
"So did I. We are both disappointed," said Aunty, smiling.
"But I'm the _most_ disappointed," persisted Alice, "because you'regrown up, you know, and I haven't any thing pleasant to do. All mydoll's spring clothes are made, and I've read my story-books till I'mtired of 'em, and I learned my lessons for to-morrow with Miss Boydyesterday, because we were going to the picnic. Oh, dear, what a longmorning this has been! It feels like a week."
Just then, Toot! toot! toot! sounded from the street below. Alicehurried back to the window. She pressed her nose close to the glass, butat first could see nothing; then, as the sound grew nearer, a man onhorseback rode into view. He was gorgeously dressed in black velveteen,with orange sleeves and an orange lining to his cloak. He carried abrass trumpet, which every now and then he lifted to his lips, blowing along blast. This was the sound which Alice had heard.
Following the man came a magnificent scarlet chariot, drawn by ten blackhorses with scarlet trappings and scarlet feathers in their heads. Eachhorse was ridden by a little page in a costume of emerald green. Thechariot was full of musicians in red uniforms. They held umbrellas overtheir instruments, and looked sulky because of the rain, which was nowonder. Still, the effect of the whole was gay and dazzling. Behind thechariot came a long procession of horses, black, gray, sorrel, chestnut,or marked in odd patches of brown and white. These horses were ridden byladies in wonderful blue and silver and pink and gold habits, and byknights in armor, all of whom carried umbrellas also. Pages walkedbeside the horses, waving banners and shields with "Visit Currie'sWorld-Renowned Circus" painted on them. A droll little clown, mounted onan enormous bay horse, made fun of the pages, imitated their gestures,and rapped them on the back with his riding-stick in a droll way. A longline of blue and red wagons closed the cavalcade.
But prettiest of all was a little girl about ten years old, who rode inthe middle of the procession upon a lovely horse as white as milk. Thehorse had not a single spot of dark color about him, and his trappingsof pale blue were so slight that they seemed like ribbons hung on hisgraceful limbs. The little girl had hair of bright, pale yellow, whichfell to her waist in loose shining waves. She was small and slender, buther color was like roses, and her blue eyes and sweet pink mouth smiledevery moment as she bent and swayed to the motion of the horse, whichshe managed beautifully, though her bits of hands seemed almost toosmall to grasp the reins. Her riding-dress of blue was belted andbuttoned with silver; a tiny blue cap with long blue plumes was on herhead; and altogether she seemed to Alice like a fairy princess, or oneof those girls in story-books who turn out to be kings' daughters orsomething else remarkable.
"O Aunty! come here do come," cried Alice.
Just then the procession halted directly beneath the window. Thetrumpeter took off his hat and made a low bow to Alice and her Aunt.Then he blew a final blast, rose in his stirrups and began to speak.Miss Flower opened the window that they might hear more distinctly. Thisseemed to bring the pretty little girl on the horse nearer. She lookedup at Alice and smiled, and Alice smiled back at her.
This is what the trumpeter said:--
"Ladies and gentlemen,--I have the honor to announce to you the arrivalin Banbury of Signor James Currie's World-Renowned Circus and GrandUnrivalled Troupe of Equestrian Performers, whose feats of equitationand horsemanship have given unfeigned delight to all the courts ofEurope, her Majesty the Queen, and the nobility and gentry of this andother countries. Among the principal attractions of this unrivalledtroupe are Mr. Vernon Twomley, with his famous trained steed Bucephalus;Madame Orley, with her horse Chimborazo, who lacks only the gift ofspeech to take a first class at the University of Oxford; M. Aristide,the admired trapezeist; Goo-Goo, the unparalleled and side-splittingclown; and last, but not least, Mademoiselle Mignon, the childequestrienne, whose feats of agility are the wonder of the age! Onaccount of Mr. Currie's unprecedented press of engagements, hisappearance in Banbury is limited to a single performance, which willtake place this evening under the Company's magnificent tent, in theMarket Place, behind the old cross. Come one, come all! Performances tobegin at eight precisely. Admission, one-and-sixpence. Children underten years of age, half price. God save the Queen."
Having finished this oration, the trumpeter bowed once more to thewindow, blew another blast, and rode on, followed by all the procession;the little girl on the white horse giving Alice a second smile as shemoved away. For awhile the toot, toot, toot of the trumpet could beheard from down the street. Then the sounds grew fainter. At last theydied in distance, and all was quiet as it had been before.
Alice was sorry to have them go. But the interruption had done her goodby taking her thoughts away from the rain and the lost picnic. She couldthink and talk of nothing now except the gay riders, and especially thepretty little girl on the white horse.
"Wasn't she sweet?" she asked her Aunt. "And didn't she ride_beau_tifully. I wish I could ride like that. And what a pretty name,Mademoiselle Mignon! It must be very nice to belong to a circus, Ithink."
"I'm afraid that Mademoiselle Mignon does not always find it so nice,"remarked Miss Flower.
"O Aunty, what makes you say so? She looks as if she were perfectlyhappy! Didn't you see her laugh when the clown stole the other man's capfrom his head? And such a dear horse as she was riding! I never saw sucha dear horse in all my life. I wish I had one just like him."
"It _was_ a beauty. So perfectly white."
"Wasn't it! O Aunty, don't you wish Papa would take you and me to theperformance? There will only be one, you know, because Mr. Currie hassuch un--un--unpresidential engagements. I mean to ask Papa if he won't.There he is now! I hear his key in the door. May I run down and ask him,Aunty?"
"Yes, indeed--"
Downstairs ran Alice.
"O Papa!" she cried, "_did_ you meet the Circus? It was the mostwonderful Circus, Papa. Just like a story-book. And such a dear littlegirl on a white horse! Won't you please take me to see it, Papa--andAunty too? We both want to go very much. It's only here for one night,the man said."
"We'll see," said the Mayor, taking off his coat. Alice danced withpleasure when she heard this "we'll see," for with Papa "we'll see"meant almost always the same thing as "yes." Alice was an only child,and a petted one, and Papa rarely refused any request on which hismotherless little girl had set her heart.
She skipped upstairs beside him, full of satisfaction, and had justsettled herself on his knee for the half hour of frolic and talk whichwas her daily delight and his, when a knock came to the door below, andPhebe the maid appeared.
"Two persons to see you, sir."
"Show them in here," said the Mayor. Alice lingered and was rewarded,for the "persons" were no other than Signor Currie himself and hisring-master. Alice recognized them at once. Both were gorgeously dressedin black and orange and velvet-slashed sleeves, and came in holdingtheir plumed hats in their hands. The object of the call was to solicitthe honor of the Mayor's patronage for the evening's entertainment. Howpleased Alice was when Papa engaged a box and paid for it!
"I shall bring my littl
e daughter here," he told Signor Currie. "She ismuch taken by a child whom she saw to-day among your performers."
"Mademoiselle Mignon, no doubt," replied the Signor solemnly. "She is,indeed, a prodigy of talent,--one of the wonders of the age, I assureyour worship!"
"Well," said his worship, smiling, "we shall see to-night. Good-day toyou."
"O Papa, that is delightful!" cried Alice, the moment the men were gone."How I wish it were evening already! I can scarcely wait."
Evenings come at last, even when waited for. Alice had not time, afterall, to get _very_ impatient before the carriage was at the door, andshe and Papa and Aunty were in it, rolling away toward the market-place.Crowds of people were going in the same direction. Half the Papas andMammas in Banbury had taken their boys and girls to see the show. There,behind the market cross, rose the great tent, a flapping red flag ontop. Bright lights streamed from within. How exciting it was! The tentwas so big inside that there was plenty of room for all the people whowished to come, and more. Ranges of benches ran up till they met thecanvas roof. Below were the boxes, hung with red and white cloth andbanners. Dazzling lights were everywhere, the band was playing, frombehind the green curtain came sounds of voices and horses whinnying toeach other. Alice had never been to a circus before. It seemed to herthe most beautiful and bewildering place which she had ever imagined.
By and by the performance began. How the Banbury children did enjoy it!The clown's little jokes had done duty in hundreds of places before.Some of them had even appeared in the almanac! But in Banbury they wereall new, and so funny that everybody laughed till their sides ached. Andthe wonderful horses! Madame Orley's educated steed, which picked outletters from a card alphabet and spelled words with them, went throughthe military drill with the precision of a trooper, and waltzed aboutthe arena with his mistress on his back!--well, he was not a horse; hewas a wizard steed, like the one described in the "Arabian NightsTales." Alice almost thought she detected the little peg behind his ear!
She shuddered over the feats of the sky-blue trapezeist, who seemed todo every thing but fly. The knights in imitation armor were real knightsto Alice; the pink and gold ladies were veritable damsels of romance,undergoing adventures. But, delightful as all this was, she wasconscious that the best remained behind, and eagerly watched the door ofentrance, in hopes of the appearance of the white steed and the littlerider who had so fascinated her imagination in the morning. Papa noticedit, and laughed at her; but, for all that, she watched.
At last they came, and Alice was satisfied. Mignon looked prettier anddaintier than ever in her light fantastic robe of white and spangles,with silver bracelets on her wrists and little anklets hung with bellsabout her slender ankles. Round and round and round galloped the whitehorse, the fairy figure on his back now standing, now lying, now on herknees, now poised on one small foot, or, again, dancing to the music ontop of the broad saddle, keeping exact time, every movement graceful andlight as that of a happy elf. Hoops, wreathed with roses and coveredwith silver paper, were raised across her path. She bounded through themeasily, smiling as she sprang. The white horse seemed to love her, andto obey her every gesture; and Mignon evidently loved the horse, formore than once in the pauses Alice saw her pat and caress the prettycreature. At length the final bound was taken, the last rose-wreathedhoop was carried away, Mignon kissed her hand to the audience anddisappeared at full gallop, the curtain fell, and the ring-masterannounced that Part First was ended, and that there would be anintermission of fifteen minutes.
By this time Alice was in a state of tumultuous admiration which knew nobounds.
"Oh, if I could only speak to her and kiss her, just once!" she cried."Isn't she the darlingest little thing you ever saw? I wish I could.Don't you think they'd let me, Papa?"
"Would there be any harm in it, do you think?" asked the Mayor of hissister. "She's a pretty, innocent-looking little creature."
"I don't quite like having Alice associate with such people," objectedMiss Flower. Then, softened by the wistful eagerness of Alice's face,she added, "Still, in this case, the child is so young that I reallythink there would be no harm, except that the manager might object tohaving the little girl disturbed between the acts."
"I'll inquire," said Papa.
The manager was most obliging. Managers generally are, I fancy, whenMayors express wishes. "Mademoiselle Mignon," he said, "would be verypleased and proud to receive Miss Flower, if she would take the troubleto come behind the scenes." So Alice, trembling with excitement, wentwith Papa behind the big green curtain. She had fancied it a sort offairy world; but instead she found a great bare, disorderly place.Sawdust was scattered on the ground; huge boxes were standing about,some empty, some half unpacked. From farther away came sounds of loudvoices talking and disputing, and the stamping of horses' feet. It wasneither a pretty or a pleasant place; and Alice, feeling shy and halffrightened, held Papa's hand tight, and squeezed it very hard as theywaited.
Pretty soon the manager came to them with Mignon beside him. She lookedsmaller and more childish than she had done on horseback. A little plaidshawl was pinned over her gauzy dress to keep her warm. Alice lost herfears at once. She realized that here was no fairy princess, but alittle girl like herself. Mignon's face was no less sweet when seen sonear. Her cheeks were the loveliest pink imaginable. Her blue eyeslooked up frankly and trustfully. When the Mayor spoke to her sheblushed and made a pretty courtesy, clasping Alice's hand very tight inhers, but saying nothing.
"The performances will recommence in ten minutes," said Signor Currie,consulting his watch. Then he and the Mayor moved a little aside andbegan talking together, leaving the little girls to make acquaintance.
"I saw you this morning," said Alice.
Mignon nodded and smiled.
"Oh, did you see me? I thought you did, but I wasn't sure, because wewere up so high. Aunty and I thought the procession was beautiful. But Iliked your horse best of all. Is he gentle?"
"Pluto? oh, he's very gentle," replied Mignon. "Only now and then hegets a little wild when the people hurrah and clap very loud. But healways knows me."
"How beautifully you do ride," went on Alice. "It looks just like flyingwhen you jump through the hoops. I wish I knew how. Is it very hard todo?"
"No--except when I get tired. Then I don't do it well. But as long asthe music plays I don't feel tired. Sometimes before I come out I amfrightened, and think I can't do it at all, but then I hear the bandbegin, and I know I can. Oh! don't you love music?"
"Y--es," said Alice wonderingly, for Mignon's eyes sparkled and her faceflushed as she asked this question. "I like music when it's pretty."
"I love it so _so_ much," went on Mignon confidentially. "It's likeflowers--and colors--all sorts of things--sunsets too. Our band playsbeautifully, don't you think so? It makes me feel as if I could do anything in the world, fly or dance on the air,--any thing! It's quitedifferent when they stop. Then I don't want to jump or spring, but justto sit still. If they would keep on playing always, I don't believe Ishould ever get tired."
"How funny!" said the practical Alice. "I never feel that way at all.Aunty says I haven't got a bit of ear for music. Did you see Aunty atthe window this morning when you looked up?"
"Was that your Aunty? I thought it was your Mamma."
"No; I haven't got any Mamma. She died when I was a little baby. I don'tremember her a bit."
"Neither do I mine," said Mignon wistfully. "Mr. Currie says he guessesI never had any. Do you think I could? Little girls always have Mammas,don't they?"
"But haven't you an Aunty or any thing?" cried Alice.
Mignon shook her head.
"No," she said. "No Aunty."
"Why! Who takes care of you?"
"Oh, they all take care of me," replied Mignon smiling. "MadameOrley,--that's Mrs. Currie, you know,--she's very kind. She curls myhair and fastens my frock in the morning, and she always dresses me forthe performance herself. Mr. Currie,--he's kind too. He gave me theseank
lets and my silver bracelets and two rings--see--one with a bluestone and one with a red stone. Aren't they pretty? Goo-Goo is nice too.He taught me to write last year. And old Jerry,--that's the head groom,you know,--he's the kindest of all. He says I'm like his littlegranddaughter that died, and wherever we go he almost always buys me apresent. Look what he gave me this morning," putting her hand into thebosom of her frock and pulling out an ivory needle-case. "I keep it herefor fear it'll get lost. There's always such a confusion when we onlystop one night in a place."
"Isn't it pretty," said Alice admiringly. "I'm glad Jerry gave it toyou. But I wish you had an Aunty, because mine is so nice."
"Or a Mamma," said Mignon thoughtfully. "If I only had a Mamma of myown, and music which would play _all the time_ and never stop, I shouldbe just happy. I wouldn't mind the Enchanted Steed then,--or anything."
"What's the Enchanted Steed?" asked Alice.
"Oh,--one of the things I do. It's harder than the rest, so I don't likeit quite so well. You'll see--it's the grand _finale_ to-night."
A sharp little bell tinkled.
"That's to ring up the curtain," said Mignon. "I must go. Thank you somuch for coming to see me."
"Oh, wait one minute!" cried Alice, diving into her pocket. "Yes, Ithought so. Here's my silver thimble. Won't you take it for a keepsake,dear, to go with your needle-book, you know? And don't forget me,because I never, never shall forget you. My name's Alice,--AliceFlower."
"How pretty!" cried Mignon, looking admiringly at the thimble. "How kindyou are! Good-by."
"Kiss your hand to me from the back of the horse, won't you, please?"said Alice. "That will be splendid! Good-by, dear, good-by."
The two children kissed each other; then Mignon ran away, tucking thethimble into her bosom as she went.
"O Aunty! you never saw such a darling little thing as she is!" criedAlice, when they had got back to the box. "So sweet, and so pretty,prettier than any of the little girls we know, Aunty. I'm sure you'dthink so if you saw her near. She hasn't any Mamma either, and no Auntyor any thing. She wishes so much she had. But she says all the circuspeople are real kind to her. You can't think how much she loves music.If the band would play all the time, she could fly, she says, or do anything else that was hard. It was so queer to hear her talk about it. Inever saw any little girl that I liked so much. I wish she was mysister, my own true sister; really I do, Aunty."
"Why, Alice, I never knew you so excited about anybody before," remarkedMiss Flower.
"O Aunty! she isn't _anybody_; she's quite different from common people.How I wish she'd hurry and come out again. She promised to kiss herhand to me from the horse's back, Papa. Won't that be splendid?"
The whole performance was more interesting to Alice since herconversation with Mignon. Madame Orley and her trained steed were quitenew and different now that she knew that Madame Orley's real name wasCurrie, and that she curled Mignon's hair every morning. Goo-Goo seemedlike an intimate friend, because of the writing-lessons. Alice was evensure that she could make out old Jerry of the needle-book among theattendants. Round and round and round sped the horses. Goo-Goo crackedhis whip. The trapezeist swung high in air like a glittering blue spidersuspended by silver threads. Mr. Vernon Twomley's Bucephalus did everything but talk. Somebody else on another horse played the violin andstood on his head meanwhile, all at full gallop! It was delightful. Butthe best of all was when Mignon came out again. Her cheeks were rosier,her eyes brighter than ever, and--yes--she recollected her promise, forduring the very first round she turned to Alice, poised on one foot likea true fairy, smiled charmingly, and kissed her hand twice. Howdelightful that was! Not Alice only, but all the children present werebewitched by Mignon that evening. Twenty little girls at least said totheir mothers, "Oh, how I would like to ride like that!" and many whodid not speak wished privately that they could change places and _be_Mignon. Alice did not wish this any longer. The noise and confusionbehind the scenes, the stamping horses and swearing men, had given her anew idea of the life which poor Mignon had to lead among these sightsand sounds, the only child among many grown people, dependant upon thechance kindness of clowns and head grooms for her few pleasures, herlittle education. She no longer desired to change places. What she nowwanted was to carry Mignon away for a companion and friend, sharinglessons with her and Aunty and all the other good things which she hadforgotten, when in the morning she wished herself a part of the gaycircus troupe.
And now the performances were almost over. One last feat remained, the_Finale_, of which Mignon had spoken. It stood on the bills thus:--
"GRAND FINALE!! IN CONCLUSION WILL BE GIVEN THE STUPEFYING FEAT OF THE ENCHANTED STEED, AND THE FLIGHT THROUGH THE AIR! _Performers:_ MADEMOISELLE MIGNON; HER HORSE PLUTO; M. ARISTIDE; AND M. JOACHIN."
Alice watched with much interest the arrangements making for this feat.Fresh sawdust was sprinkled over the arena, the ropes of the trapezeswere lowered and tested: evidently the feat was a difficult one, andneeded careful preparation. M. Aristide and M. Joachin took their placeson the suspended bars, the ring-master cleared the circle, and Mignonrode in at a gallop. Three times she went round the arena at full speed,then she was snatched from the horse's back by the long arm of M.Aristide extended from the trapeze above. Pluto galloped steadily on.One second only M. Aristide held Mignon poised in air, then he flung herlightly across the space to M. Joachin, who as lightly caught her,waited a second, and, as Pluto passed beneath, dropped her upon hisback. It looked fearfully dangerous; all depended upon the exact time atwhich each movement was executed. The whole audience caught its breath,but Mignon did not seem to be frightened. Her little face was quiteunruffled as the strong men tossed her to and fro, her limbs and dressfell into graceful lines as she went through the air; it was really likea bird's flight. Alice's hands were squeezed tightly together, she couldhardly breathe. Ah!--Pluto was an instant too late, or M. Joachin asecond too soon,--which was it? Mignon missed the saddle,--grazed itwith her foot, fell,--striking one of the wooden supports of the tentwith her head as she touched the ground. There was a universal thrilland shudder. Mr. Currie hurried up, Pluto faltered in his pace, whinniedand ran back to where his little mistress lay. But in one moment Mignonwas on her feet again, making her graceful courtesy and kissing herhand, though she looked very pale. The curtain fell rapidly. Alice,looking anxiously that way, had a vague idea that she saw Mignon dropdown again, but Aunty said, "How fortunate that that sweet little thingwas not hurt;" and Alice, being used to finding Aunty always in theright, felt her heart lightened. They went out, following the audience,who were all praising Mignon, and saying that it might have been aterrible accident; and, for their part, it didn't seem right to letchildren run such risks, and they were thankful that the little dear wasnot injured. Many a child envied Mignon that night; many dreamed ofsilver spangles, galloping steeds, roses, applause, and waked upthinking how charming it must be to live on a horse's back with musicalways playing, and exciting things going on, and people praising you!
Oh, dear! I wish I could stop here. Why should there be painful thingsin the world which must be written about? That pretty courtesy, thatspring from the earth were poor Mignon's last. She had risen and bowedwith the instinct which all players feel to act out their parts to theend, but as the curtain fell down she dropped again, this time heavily.Mr. Currie, much frightened, lifted and carried her to his wife's tent.The band, who were playing out the audience, stopped with a dismayedsuddenness. Goo-Goo untied his mask and hurried in. Madame Orley, whowas feeding Chimborazo with sugar, dropped the sugar on the floor andran too. Jerry flew for a doctor. Mignon was laid on a bed. They fannedher, rubbed her feet, put brandy into her pale lips. But it was all ofno use. The little hands were cold, the blue-veined eyelids would notunclose. Madame Orley and the other women riders who were clusteredbeside the bed began to sob bitterly. Th
ey all loved Mignon; she was thepet and baby of the whole circus troupe.
It was not long before the doctor came. He felt Mignon's pulse, andtried various things, but his face was very grave.
"She's a frail little creature," he said. "No stamina to carry herthrough."
"She's opening her eyes," cried Madame Orley. "She's coming to herself."
Slowly the blue eyes opened. At first she seemed not to see the anxiouscountenances bent over her. Then a look of recognition crept into herface, and a wan little smile parted the lips. She lifted one hand andbegan to fumble feebly in the bosom of her frock.
"What is it, Mignon, dear?" said one of the women. It was Alice's silverthimble that Mignon was seeking after. When it was given her she seemedcontent, and lay clasping it in her hand.
Just then a strange noise came from outside. Pluto, suspecting thatsomething had gone wrong, had slipped his halter. A groom tried to catchhim. He snorted back and cantered away. At the door of Madame Orley'stent he paused, put in his head and gave a long whinny.
Mignon started. The bells on her ankles tinkled a little as she moved.
"Now, Pluto"--she whispered faintly,--"steady, dear Pluto. Ah, there'sthe music at last! I thought it would never begin. How sweet,--oh, howsweet! They never made such sweet music before. I can do it now." Asmile brightened her face.
"Has she a mother?" asked the doctor.
The words caught Mignon's ear. She looked up. "Mamma," she said--"Mamma!Did _you_ make the music?" Her head fell back, she closed hereyes.--That was all.
"She loved music so dearly," said one of the women weeping.
"She has it now," replied the good old doctor, laying down the littlehand from which the pulse had ebbed away. "Don't cry so over her, mygood girl. She was a tender flower for such a life as this. Depend uponit, it is better as it is. Heaven is a home-like place for such littleones as she, and the angels' singing will be sweeter to her ears thanthe music of your brass band."