Ellis, he knew, rather looked down on people who did
go,--called them low. This had never troubled Tip before, because he had
always known himself to be low; but now, wasn't he trying to climb?
Didn't respectable people generally think that circuses were bad things?
No, poor Tip, they didn't; there was Mr. Bailey, a rich man,--so rich
and so respectable that his son wouldn't stoop to lend Tip his
spelling-book at school,--yet Mr. Bailey went to the circus last year and
took all his children. So did Mr. Anderson and Mr. Stone, and oh! dozens
of others, rich, great men. Well, did good people go? and Tip's thoughts
strayed back to Mr. Holbrook, and Mr. Parker, and Mr. Minturn, yea, and
others, whose voices he had heard on the streets and in stores,
condemning the circus.
But then, after all, where was the harm? There was Kitty, how much she
wanted to go; if he could manage to take her, how glad she would be! At
this point Satan thought there was a chance for him to speak; so he
walked along with Tip, talking like this:
"Kitty has never asked you to do anything for her before.
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