At one time certain towns in Pennsylvania were greatly dreaded by all
showmen, from the fact that the "tough" element there predominated, and
rarely did a circus escape without a pitched battle with these
desperadoes. Mahanoy City was one of the worst of these towns, and on
my last visit there nothing but the sound "horse sense" of one of our
trained animals saved the show from a conflict the result of which
might have been deplorable. I had wired my agent, weeks before, to drop
this town from the list, but he had written back that, under favorable
circumstances, we were sure of taking about $10,000 there, and
therefore, in accordance with my instructions, the town had been
billed.
We had a fair afternoon's business, and at night, judging from the
appearance of the house, we ought to have had at least $5,000 in the
treasury. But, as usual in that town, the toughs had simply forced
their way in without paying, and, as a consequence, only about $800 had
been taken. On the outside were several hundred hoodlums clamoring for
a fight, and I am bound to say that "Old Put," our boss canvasman, and
his faithful followers were anxious for the same means of satisfaction,
and only refrained from an outbreak because they knew that instant
dismissal from my employ would follow any attempt on their part to take
the initiative in any trouble.
At last, however, a fight did come off, and a hot one it was, too!
Right in the midst of it one of my horses, which had been trained to
fire off a cannon from its back, got loose and, fully accoutred,
galloped into the thick of the melee. The creature seized the strap
which operated the trigger and began firing blank cartridges in every
direction. If ever a mob of toughs was frightened it was then! They
stopped not upon the order of their going, but fairly flew in all
directions.
One of them afterward told a policeman that they could fight any gang
of showmen that ever traveled, but when a horse commenced to unload on
them with a cannon, he knew it was time to quit.