SOME TRAPEZE TRICKS
Joe did not have to ask his way to the circus grounds. He had only to
follow the crowd, mostly made up of small boys, though with a goodly
sprinkling of young men, all of whom were stringing their way out to the
big, vacant lots where the tents were being put up, and where the big
cages, wagons, horses, and animals were getting ready for the parade
that was to follow.
“They’ll likely have the horse and animal tents up by this time,” mused
Joe, “but I can see ’em fixing the main top.”
The largest tent, or the one where the performance is given, is called
in circus language the “main top.”
Joe knew something of circuses from having read of them and having seen
one or two, but also he remembered a very little, and seemed, too, to
have inherited a certain knowledge.
It would have been strange had he not had a hankering for a tent show,
for the son of Madame Hortense, one of the greatest circus riders of her
day, ought to have something of a liking for that strange life.
“I wonder if, by any chance, I’d meet some one who used to know my
mother,” mused Joe, as he walked onward. “It isn’t so very many years
ago that she was with a show, and there might be some old-time
performers who would know her. But it’s hardly likely, though possible.
Of course my father, having been mostly in theatre shows, wouldn’t be so
apt to know circus people. Say, it almost makes me want to be with ’em!”
Joe murmured enthusiastically, as he came in sight of the circus lots on
which lively scenes were being enacted.
Men were running about, straightening out the big folds of canvas,
lacing up the parts of the big tent preparatory to raising it, for the
“main top” comes in several sections for easier transportation.
Gay banners were fluttering from the animal tent, already up, and from
the one where the performers were to eat and dress.
Breakfast had already been served to the now busy workers; and from the
wagons, on which were the big stoves, there arose appetizing odors, as a
second meal was being gotten ready—a breakfast for the performers who
did not have to get up as early as did the laborers. Most of the circus
stuff had been brought from the railroad trains, and was on the grounds.
“I don’t see how they ever straighten things out,” mused Joe. But
somehow it was done. Every one had a certain part to perform. And while
one gang of men were putting up the tents, others were feeding the
horses and other animals, and those in charge of the parade were getting
that ready to march through the streets in order to entice the small boy
and his parent to come to the show.
Joe strolled past the place where, outside one of the performers’ tents,
men were pasting paper on the hoops through which the riders would leap
later. He did not stop to peer in at the animals, though many small boys
were feasting their eyes on such glimpses of the sights as they could
see. Joe did not care much for this.
“I wish I could see some of the trapeze and high wire fellows at
practice,” he mused. “I might pick up a few stunts myself.”
Joe passed a place where some of the performers’ trunks had been heaped
up in readiness to be taken into the dressing tents. Near them stood a
tall, slim, young fellow, of about Joe’s age. He did not seem very
muscular, and he was tugging away at a heavy trunk, which he could not
move.
“Shan’t I give you a hand?” asked Joe pleasantly. “That looks pretty
heavy.”
“It is,” was the answer, given with a smile. “I ought to have some of
the men help me, but they’re all too busy. My trunk is under this one,
and I want to get at it. There’s a hole in my suit I want to get mended
before the show opens.”
From that Joe knew the lad to be one of the performers.
“I guess I can get it down for you,” said the young wizard, and with a
heave of his powerful arms he lifted down the top trunk.
“My, but you’re strong!” exclaimed the other, somewhat enviously.
“Strong is my last name,” laughed Joe.
“Is it, really?”
“It sure is. Can I help you carry it to your dressing room?”
“Well, if you don’t mind, it would be a favor. I generally have one of
the men help me, but we’re a bit late to-day, on account of a train
wreck that held us up, and everybody is doing double work. My place is
right over there,” and he indicated the tent where he had his dressing
room, or, rather, space, for all do not have separate rooms in a circus.
As Joe took hold of one end of the trunk he noticed that it bore, in
big, white letters the words:
HUMAN FISH
Joe’s face must have showed his surprise, for the circus lad noticed it,
and with a laugh, said:
“It isn’t an aquarium you’re helping to carry. This just has my clothes
and some other things in it—the suit I wear—I’m the ‘human fish,’ you
know.”
“You are—a fish?”
“Yes. Turton’s my right name, Benny Turton, but I’m billed as the ‘human
fish.’ I do an act in a tank of water—swimming, diving, staying under a
long time, picking coins up in my mouth and all that. It isn’t a bad act
they tell me.
“Last night I ripped the suit I wear—sort of fish-scale arrangement, you
know, and I wanted to get it out of my trunk early, to have it mended.
I’m much obliged to you,” he went on, as Joe set his end of the trunk
down in the dressing tent, which was now becoming thronged with other
performers who were getting ready for the parade.
“Oh, you’re welcome, I’m sure,” Joe answered. “I guess I’ll come and see
you perform.”
“I’d be glad to have you. Say, if you’d like to look about a bit now I
can fix it up for you.”
“I’d like to see the trapeze fellows at practice.”
“All right. I’ll speak to the ring-master. Oh, I say Jim—Jim Tracy!”
called the “human fish” to a big, red-faced and black-mustached man who
entered the tent just then.
“Hello, Ben, what is it now?” was the answer.
“Here’s a friend of mine,” went on the “fish,” with a smile. “His name
is Strong. You ought to see him juggle trunks. He wants to watch the
trapeze fellows doing some try-outs.”
“All right, Ben. As long as he’s a friend of yours it goes. Make
yourself at home, Strong,” went on the ring-master, “and if anybody asks
you what you’re doing, tell ’em Jim Tracy said it was all right. How you
making out, Benny? Need any help?” His voice seemed to take on a kinder
tone as he spoke to the rather frail looking lad.
“Oh, I’m all right now. He gave me a hand just when I needed it,” and he
nodded to Joe. “Got to get my suit mended, or I’ll be full of water
before my act’s half over.”
“That’s right—don’t spoil the act,” admonished the ring-master. “It’s
too good to have that happen. Well, I’ve got about a thousand things to
do. See you later,” and with a nod to the two young men he hurried off.
“Now you can go about as you like,” said Benny. “He’s the head boss, and
one of the owners of Sampson Brothers’ Gigantic Aggregation of Circus
and Hippodrome,” said Ben with a laugh, as he quoted part of the show
bills. “What he says goes!”
Benny Turton, the “human fish,” had unlocked his trunk, and was taking
out a queer suit, made, it seemed, of rubber, covered with shimmering
green scales like those of a fish.
“This is supposed to be water-tight,” Benny explained, “and it is, when
it doesn’t leak. I’ve got to put a patch on one elbow,” and he showed
where a rip would let water in. “I mend it with a rubber cement,” he
added, “and it takes a little time to dry. That’s why I was in a hurry
to get at it. You’ll see some of the trapeze men at work soon, I think.
Come back when you’re through watching them.”
A little later Joe found himself in the main tent, which was now almost
completely erected, and as soon as this had been done men began putting
in place the trapezes, flying rings and other pieces of apparatus on
which the acrobats performed their feats.
While this was going on a man came strolling in, and from the anxious
orders he gave, and from the manner in which he watched the arranging of
some of the trapezes, Joe surmised that he was one of the performers. He
made sure of this a little later when the man swung himself up on the
bar, tested it, and then began to go through a few simple exercises in
his street clothes, as though to test the ropes and fastenings.
“All right,” he called to the workmen. “That’ll do.”
“The Lascalla Brothers are mighty particular,” murmured one of the
workmen, as the performer went out.
“I should say so!” was the comment of another. Then Joe knew he had seen
one of the most famous of trapeze performers, whose name was in large
letters on the bills.
One or two men questioned Joe’s presence, but when he mentioned Jim
Tracy he was made welcome.
Most of the trapezes were in place, and the workmen had gone to another
part of the big tent. Joe strolled over toward one of the swinging bars.
“Say, wouldn’t I like to try it just once!” he murmured. “I’ve never
been on a real circus trapeze.” He looked about him. No one seemed to be
noticing him. “Here goes!” he exclaimed.
Lightly he sprang and grasped the bar. The feel of it seemed natural to
his hands, and he felt his springy muscles contracting for the upward
pull. He swung lightly to the bar, and sat there, moving to and fro.
Then, in a sort of reckless spirit Joe went through a number of
evolutions, such as he had often practiced alone at home or in some
chum’s barn.
Joe was hampered by his street shoes and clothes from doing very much,
but what he did he did well. Daring indeed were one or two of the feats
he attempted, for there was no life net below him. He worked rapidly and
then, giving a final swing on the bar he shot off it, turned a
somersault, and landed on his feet on a pile of canvas some distance
off.
“Say, that wasn’t bad! Better work in a little of that new stuff
to-day,” said a voice behind Joe. The young wizard turned quickly to
behold Jim Tracy looking at him.
“Hello! Oh, it’s you, is it?” asked the ring-master. “Blessed if I
didn’t think it was one of our regular performers doing a try-out. Say,
Ben didn’t tell me you belonged to the profesh.”
“I don’t. That is I’m an assistant to Professor Rosello, a magician. I’m
not a circus performer.”
“Well, it’s too bad you aren’t,” was the comment. “I’ve seen some good
tricks on a trapeze, but you’ve got a few of your own. I don’t s’pose
you’d like to join the show, would you? I could use an extra trapeze and
ring act. Now if you’d like to consider it, I’ll make you an offer.”
Joe’s heart beat high for a moment. He was almost tempted to accept.
Then he realized that he had not yet perfected himself in the working of
magic, and he wanted to do this. So he shook his head.
“No, thank you,” he said, gratefully. “I guess I’ll stick to Professor
Rosello for the present.”
“Well, you know your own business best,” answered the ring-master, “and
I sure don’t want to take you away from the man you’re with. But if ever
you think of joining a circus, why drop me a line. You’ll find us——”
But the ring-master was suddenly interrupted.
“Oh, Jim!” cried a voice, and Joe turned to behold, what he afterward
declared was, a “vision in pink,” hurrying into the main tent. The
“vision” was a young girl, with a laughing face, merry brown eyes and a
vivacious manner.
“Oh, Jim!” she cried. “I am in _such_ trouble!”
“Well now, Miss Helen, what’s the trouble?” asked Jim in a good-natured
voice, as though he were speaking to some child. “We sure will have to
have it fixed for you.”
“Oh, thank you, Jim,” and the “vision” turned and gazed full at Joe.
Joe blushed.