The Circus Boys on the Flying Rings : or, Making the Start in the Sawdust Life. Edgar B. P. Darlington

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      "Ain't that great? I didn't suppose they'd have any elephants. Wonder if there's any lions and tigers in those big wagons."

      "Of course there are. Didn't you see pictures of them on the bills, Teddy?"

      "I don't know. Dan Marts, the postmaster, says you can't set any store by the pictures. He says maybe they've got the things you see in the pictures, and maybe they haven't. There's a camel! Look at it! How'd you like to ride on that hump all day?" questioned Teddy gleefully.

      "Shouldn't like it at all."

      "I read in my geography that they ride on them all the time on the--on--on Sarah's Desert."

      "Oh, you mean the Sahara Desert--that's what you mean," laughed Phil.

      "Well, maybe."

      "I should rather ride an elephant. See, it's just like a rocking chair. I could almost go to sleep watching them move along."

      "I couldn't," declared Teddy. "I couldn't any more go to sleep when a circus is going by than I could fly without wings."

      "See, there comes a herd of ponies. Look how small they are. Not much bigger than St. Bernard dogs. They could walk right under the elephants and not touch them."

      "Where do they all sleep?" wondered Teddy.

      "Who, the ponies?"

      "No, of course not. The people."

      "I don't know unless they sleep in the cages with the animals," laughed Phil. "Some of the folks appear to be sleeping on the horses."

      "I'd be willing to go without sleep if I could be a showman," mused Teddy. "Wouldn't you?"

      "Sure," agreed Phil. "Hello! There come some more wagons. Come on! We'll run down to meet them."

      "No; Let's go over to the grounds where the circus is coming off. They'll be putting up the tents first thing we know."

      "That's so, and I want to be around. You going to work any, Teddy?"

      "Not I. I'm going to see the show, but you don't catch me carrying pails of water for the elephants for a ticket of admission that don't admit you to anything except a stand-up. I can stand up cheaper than that."

      Both boys slipped from the fence, and, setting off at a jog trot, began rapidly overhauling and passing the slow-moving wagons with their tired horses and more tired drivers.

      By the time Teddy and Phil reached the circus grounds several wagons were already there. Shouts sprang up from all parts of the field, while half a dozen men began measuring off the ground in the dim morning light, locating the best places in which to pitch the tents. Here and there they would drive in a stake, on one of which they tied a piece of newspaper.

      "Wonder what that's for," thought Phil aloud.

      "Hey, what's the paper tied on the peg for?" shouted Teddy to a passing showman.

      "That's the front door, sonny."

      "Funniest looking front door I ever saw," grunted Teddy.

      "He means that's the place where the people enter and leave their tickets."

      "Oh, yes. That's what they call the 'Main Entrance,'" nodded Teddy. "I've seen it, but I don't usually go in that way."

      With the early dawn figures began emerging from several of the wagons. They were a sleepy looking lot, and for a time stood about in various attitudes, yawning, stretching their arms and rubbing their eyes.

      "Hey, boy, what town is this?" questioned a red-haired youth, dragging himself toward the two lads.

      "Edmeston."

      "Oh, yes. I remember; I was here once before."

      "With a show?" asked Teddy.

      "Yes, with a Kickapoo Indian medicine man. And he was bad medicine. Say, where can I wash my countenance?"

      "Come on; I'll show you," exclaimed Teddy and Phil in the same breath.

      They led the way to the opposite side of the field, where there was a stream of water. While the circus boy was making his morning toilet the lads watched him in admiring silence.

      "What do you do?" ventured Phil.

      "I perform on the rings."

      "Up in the air?"

      "Uh-huh."

      "Ever fall off?"

      "I get my bumps," grinned the red-haired boy. "My name is Rodney Palmer. What's your names?"

      They told him.

      "We're going to be circus men, too," Teddy informed him, but the announcement did not seem to stir a deep interest in the circus boy. He had heard other boys say the same thing. "Is it very hard work?"

      "Worst ever."

      "When do you sleep?"

      "When we ain't awake."

      "And you perform on the flying rings?"

      Rodney nodded his head indifferently.

      "I should think you'd burn the tent up with that head of red hair," grinned Teddy.

      Instead of getting angry at the boy's thrust, Rodney glanced at Teddy with a half questioning look in his eyes, then burst out laughing.

      "You're a cheerful idiot, aren't you?" he twinkled. "I'll tell you why I don't. Confidentially, you know?"

      "Sure."

      "I wear a wig when I'm performing. Mebby if it wasn't for that I might set something on fire. I must get over on the lot now."

      "You're in a lot already," Teddy informed him.

      "We call the place where we pitch the tents 'the lot.' The cook tent must be up by this time, and I'm half starved. The performance was so late yesterday afternoon that they had the cook tent down before I got my supper. Will you come along?"

      They did.

      "Do you think there is anything I could do to earn a ticket to the show today?" asked Phil.

      "Yes, there's most always something for a boy to do."

      "Whom do I ask about it?"

      "Go see the boss canvasman. I'll point him out to you as we go along."

      "Thank you. You want to see him, too, Teddy?"

      "No; I don't have to."

      "That's him over there. He's a grouch, but just don't let him bluff you. Yes, the cook tent's about ready. I'll sneak in and hook something before breakfast; then mebby I'll come back and talk with you."

      "We'll look for you in СКАЧАТЬ