"Is Mr. Stubbs one of your friends?" asked the skeleton, as he
seated himself in Mr. Lord's own private chair.

"Yes, he is, an' he's the only one in this whole circus who 'pears
to be sorry for me. You'd better not let Mr. Lord see you sittin'
in that chair or he'll raise a row."

"Job won't raise any row with me," said the skeleton. "But who is
this Mr. Stubbs? I don't seem to know anybody by that name."

"I don't think that is his name. I only call him so, 'cause he
looks so much like a feller I know who is named Stubbs."

This satisfied the skeleton that this Mr. Stubbs must be someone
attached to the show, and he asked:

"Has Job been whipping you?"

"No; Ben, the driver on the wagon where I ride, told him not to do
that again; but he hain't going to let me have any supper, 'cause
I was so slow about my work -- though I wasn't slow; I only talked
to Mr. Stubbs when there wasn't anybody round his cage."

"Sam! Sam! Sam-u-el!"

This name, which was shouted twice in a quick, loud voice, and the
third time in a slow manner, ending almost in a screech, did not
come from either Toby or the skeleton, but from an enormously large
woman, dressed in a gaudy red and black dress, cut very short, and