"I couldn't get but a dollar and a half a week and board workin' on a farm," answered the country boy.
"What's your name?" asked Charlie, abruptly.
"That wouldn't do for the stage; you'd have to take a better name."
"I'd take any name; fact is, I don't like Jotham myself."
"It isn't romantic enough," said Charlie. "The manager wouldn't have anybody of that name. It sounds too countrified."
"What sort of a name would do?" asked the boy.
"That's splendid!" said Jotham, admiringly.
"You see, it would look well on the bills. The famous bareback rider. Lorenzo Leon, who has just been imported from his native Italy at large expense, will perform some of his wonderful feats in the ring."
"I'd like that first rate," said Jotham, "only I ain't from Italy."
"No matter; no one will know that. Now, if you want to come in and take a lesson I'll give you one."
"How much will you charge?" asked Jotham, eager but cautious.
"Oh, I won't charge you anything. I'll do it out of friendship. Come in, Rob."
Robert suspected that Charlie meditated a practical joke, and did not care to take part in it.
They entered the tent—it was in the middle of the forenoon—and Charlie went to his friend the clown, and whispered a few words.
"So the young gentleman wants to take a lesson in riding, does he?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Jotham, eagerly, "if you have no objection."
"We'll do it for you as a favor," said the clown. "What's your name, young man?"
Jotham was about to answer correctly, when Charlie broke in—"His name is Lorenzo Leon, from Italy."
"A very fine name!" he answered. "Bring out the Andalusian steed."
An attendant led out the trick mule, which, meekly enough, walked round the ring.
"Oh, yes, I can ride a bigger hoss than that."
Charlie held the mule, which stood very quiet and demure, while the boy was getting on. But no sooner was the boy on his back than he lifted his ears and dashed round the ring in such a lively way, making sudden turns and curves, that Jotham was soon clinging to him as pale as a sheet, with his arms closely clasped about the mule's neck, in momentary expectation of being thrown off. At this most critical point the clown shouted, "Now get up and stand on his back!"
Instead of doing this Jotham roared, "Stop him; take me off," in an extremity of terror.