The spread of the dime museum craze created a great demand for freaks
and a consequent rise in their salaries. I know I am violating no
confidence when I say that at various times the following freaks have
drawn weekly the sums set opposite their names:
"La Tocci Twins," $1,000.00
"Millie Christine," 600.00
"Wild Man of Borneo," 300.00
"Chang, the Chinese Giant," 400.00
"Chemah, the Chinese Dwarf," 300.00
Ordinary giants and midgets, 30.00 to 100.00
Bearded ladies, 30.00 to 75.00
Living skeletons, 30.00 to 75.00
Armless men, 30.00 to 100.00
Ossified men, 30.00 to 200.00
And as an offset to the above figures, I have heard of a tatooed man
who would talk outside, exhibit himself inside, do a turn of magic,
lift barrels of water with his teeth, and, as boss canvasman,
superintend the putting up and pulling down of the show, all for six
dollars a week. He must have been first cousin to the man who traveled
with the circus simply to be able to sit on the fence and hear the band
play.
It will doubtless seem incredible to the person unused to the society
of freaks that these unfortunates should take a seeming pride in their
distinguishing misfortunes and be jealous of their reputations; this,
however, is one of the strongest traits of the typical freak. In our
show at one time we carried two giants, a Captain Benhein, a Frenchman,
and Colonel Goshin, an Arabian. These two fellows were almost insanely
jealous of each other, and it was ludicrous to hear the threats which
they exchanged; many times it seemed that a personal encounter was
imminent, but the Arabian's courage seemed in inverse proportion to his
size.