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Tliere isn't a man in the show they despise like they do Toby—but then, you wouldn't hardly call him a man. P'raps that's why."

"Dad never says—at least not when I'm about," Nita answered. "But I don't believe he'd change Hugh's turn. It's too poppilar. P'raps Dad'11 make Hugh the World's Best Midget!"

"Much chance!" said Hugh.

"There'd be wigs on the green with Toby if he did," remarked George, thoughtfully. "That little rat has got the worst temper ever I see."

"He's been quite nice to me lately," Hugh put in. "He showed me all the bits about himself that he's got, cut out of newspapers: such a lot. Eddie was there, too. Toby says he'11 teach me some ring-tricks."

"He could teach you a lot more than ring-tricks." George's tone was sharp. "Don't you go makin' pais of him an' Eddie, son."

"Oh, I don't. They wouldn't want me, anyhow. But I don't think they're as down on me as they used to be. Eddie's stopped guying me when I play with Lennie Crowe."

"Time they both had a little manners. I wouldn't wonder if young Eddie has had some straight talk from his Dad. If he was my son I wouldn't want him to be so much with Toby. But then, thank goodness, he's not mine." He chuckled. "Seems to me this show is goin' to be a bit over-crowded with clowns. There's young Eddie pining to get back into the ring, I believe; an' Steve tells

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