ON A FLYING TRAPEZE
The lesson lasted Teddy for a few hours; then he forgot all
about it. But he was made the butt of the jokes of the dressing
tent for several days.
That afternoon Phil, while attending to some correspondence for
Mr. Sparling, had occasion to write to a trapeze performer about
booking with the Sparling show for the coming season.
"I have been thinking, Mr. Sparling," said Phil, "that I should
like to perform on the flying trapeze next season. You know I
have been practicing for sometime."
Mr. Sparling glanced up from his papers.
"I'm not surprised. I guess that's the only thing you haven't
done in the show thus far."
"I haven't been a fat woman or a living skeleton yet,"
laughed Phil.
"What can you do on the bars?"
"I can do all that your performers do. Sometimes I think I might
be able to do more. I can do passing leaps, two-and-a-halfs,
birds' nest and all that sort of thing."
"Is it possible? I had no idea you had gotten that far along."
"Yes. I have been wishing for a chance to see how I could work
before an audience."
"Haven't you enough to do already?"
"Well, I suppose I have, but you know I want to get along.
The season is nearly closed now, and I shall not have another
opportunity before next spring, possibly. As long as you are
going to engage some other performers for next year I rather
thought it might be a good plan to offer myself for the work."
"Why, Phil, why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't like to."
"You can have anything in this show that you want. You know
that, do you not?"
"Yes, sir," answered the Circus Boy in a low tone. "And I thank
you very much."
"When do you want to go on?"
"Any time you think best. Would you prefer to have me go through
a rehearsal?"
"Not necessary. You have been practicing with Mr. Prentice,
the head of the trapeze troupe, haven't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"If you say you are fit, I am willing to take your word for it.
In view of the fact that you already have worked with the aerial
people all you will have to do will be to go on. I shall enjoy
seeing you do so, if you think you can stand the added work."
"I can do so easily. When shall I try it?"
"Whenever you wish."
"What do you say to trying it tonight?"
"Certainly; go on tonight, if you want to. I'll make it a point
to be on hand and watch the act."
"Thank you, very much. You are more kind to me than I have any
reason to expect."
"No such thing," snapped the showman. "Send Mr. Prentice to me
and I will give the necessary orders."
Phil, full of pleasurable anticipation, hurried to convey the
good news to Mr. Prentice. The result was that, instead of four
performers appearing in the great aerial act that evening, there
were five.
Phil shinned the rope to the trapeze perch, hand over hand, the
muscles standing out on his arms as he made the ascent, with as
much ease as he would walk to the dressing room, and perhaps even
with less effort.
Phil, with perfect confidence in himself, swung out and back
to give himself the momentum necessary to carry him to where
Mr. Prentice was now hanging head down ready to catch him.
The catcher slapped his palms sharply together, the signal that
on the return flight Phil was to let go and throw himself into
the waiting arms of the other.
In a graceful, curving flight the Circus Boy landed in the iron
grip of Mr. Prentice, and on the return sweep sprang lightly into
the air, deftly catching his own trapeze bar which carried him to
his perch.
Next he varied his performance by swinging off with his back to
the catcher, being caught about the waist, then thrown back to
meet his trapeze bar.
"He's the most graceful aerial performer I ever saw on a bar,"
declared Mr. Sparling. "He is a wonder."
The next variation of the act was what is known as a
"passing leap," where, while the catcher is throwing one
performer back to his trapeze bar, a second one is flying
toward the catcher, the two supple bodies passing in the air
headed in opposite directions. In this case, his opposite
partner was a young woman, the successor to little Zoraya
who had been so severely injured earlier in the season.
"Fine, Phil!" she breathed as they passed each other, and the
Circus Boy's face took on a pleased smile.
"Try a turn next time," said Mr. Prentice, as he threw Phil
lightly into the air toward his trapeze. "Think you can do it?"
"I can try, at least."
Phil got a wide swing and then at a signal from the catcher, shot
up into the air. He threw a quick somersault, then stretched out
his hands to be caught. He was too low down for Mr. Prentice to
reach him and Phil shot toward the net head first.
Though he had lost his bearings during the turn he had not lost
his presence of mind.
"Turn!" shouted a voice from below, the watchful ringmaster
having observed at once that the lad was falling, and that he was
liable to strike on his head in the net with the possible chance
of breaking his neck.
Phil understood, then, exactly what his position was, and, with a
slight upward tilt of his head, brought his body into position so
that he would strike the net on his shoulders.
He hit the net with a smack, bounded high into the air, rounding
off his accident by throwing a somersault on the net, bounding up
and down a few times on his feet.
The audience, quick to appreciate what he had done, gave Phil
a rousing cheer.
He shook his head and began clambering up the rope again.
"What happened to me?" he called across to the catcher.
"You turned too quickly."
"I'll do it right this time."
The band stopped playing, that its silence might emphasize
the act. Then Phil, measuring his distance with keen eyes,
launched into the air again. But instead of turning one
somersault he turned two, landing fairly into the outstretched
arms of Mr. Prentice, who gave him a mighty swing, whereat Phil
hurled himself into a mad whirl, performing three more
somersaults before he struck the net.
The audience howled with delight, and Mr. Sparling rushed forward
fairly hugging the Circus Boy in his delight.
"Wonderful!" cried the showman. "You're a sure-enough star
this time."