The Young Circus Rider; or, the Mystery of Robert Rudd — Reading Companion

ANAK, THE NORWEGIAN GIANT.

About three o'clock in the afternoon an oddly assorted couple walked through the main street in the manufacturing town of Crampton. One was a man of herculean proportions, fully seven and a half feet high, but with a good-natured face that relieved the fears which he might otherwise have inspired. The other was a boy of fifteen, tall and slender, with a dark complexion and bright eyes. He found some difficulty in keeping pace with his tall companion.

"You're going too fast for me, Anak," he said at last. "Remember, my legs are not quite so long as yours."

The giant laughed—a deep, resonant and not unmusical laugh, and answered: "I'm always forgetting that, Robert. I suppose I ought to walk alone, for I can't find any one to match me."

"See how people are looking at us," continued the boy, glancing quickly back. "There's an army of small boys following us."

"Do you want to see me scatter them?" asked Anak.

"Yes; it will be fun."

The burly giant turned, and assuming a terrific frown, ran back, his long limbs carrying him on at remarkable speed. Instantly the boys, with loud shouts of dismay, broke ranks and scattered in every direction, not daring even to look over their shoulders.

Anak came back, laughing heartily.

"I wonder what the boys thought I would do to them," he said. "The fact is, I like young people, and am always ready to take their parts; but then, they don't know that. Did I look very alarming just now?"

"Yes," answered Robert; "if I hadn't known you, I might have run too."

"I don't know about that, Robert. No one can accuse you of want of courage."

Robert smiled, and his dark face looked very attractive when he smiled.

"I am not afraid of horses," he said.

"No; you are the most daring bareback rider I ever knew."

"I don't think I ever was afraid of horses," continued the boy, thoughtfully. "I can't remember the time when I was not used to them."

"How long have you been a bareback rider?" asked Anak.

"I think I commenced when I was nine years old."

"And now you are—how old?"

"You never told me how you came to join a circus, Robert."

"I was wandering about the country—tramping—without a friend, and without any means of living, when a circus man offered to train me as a rider. Anything was better than tramping, and I accepted—"

ROBERT RUDD, THE BOY WONDER! _The Best Bareback Rider in the World._"

"That's what the circus bills say," replied Robert, smiling. "Now let me introduce you. Gentlemen and ladies," said the boy, waving his hand, as if addressing an audience, "I have the pleasure of introducing to you,

THE CELEBRATED NORWEGIAN GIANT!

_Eight feet in height, and weighing four hundred and twenty pounds, who has been exhibited before all the crowned heads of Europe, and is generally acknowledged to be the tallest giant in the world!_"

"Good for you, Robert!" said the giant, good naturedly. "You've got it by heart, my boy."

"I want to ask you a favor, Anak," said Robert, slyly: "Speak a little Norwegian; I want to know how it sounds."

"Oh go away with you! I don't know any more Norwegian than you do."

"How is that? You don't mean to say you've forgotten your native language?"

"I never knew a bit of Norwegian, Rob, my boy; and as for native language, I'm minded to tell you a secret."

"I was born in Tipperary, and they didn't use to speak Norwegian there when I was a boy."

"Then why do they call you a Norwegian?"

"It sounds better than Irish, you see."

"But haven't you ever been caught? Didn't you ever have a Norwegian come up and try to talk to you in his own language?"

"Yes," said Anak, laughing, "and mighty embarrassing it was, too."

"Faith, I opened upon him in old Irish. You ought to have seen the fellow stare. I shrugged my shoulders, and said I, 'You speak bad Norwegian,' and the crowd believed me. He slunk away, and that's the way I got over that."

"What's your real name, Anak?"

Anak looked about him guardedly, and finding that no one was within earshot, he answered, "Tom O'Connor, but don't give me away, Robert!"

"I don't believe I could, Anak," said the boy, laughing.

Anak joined in the laugh, and Robert continued, "When did you get your growth? I mean, how old were you?"