SIR BOOUM'S CIRCUS
Our travellers came in sight of the circus. Imagine, children, a
huge encampment like a small town,--with sections, and streets,
houses of green canvas on stout poles, tall caravans on wheels
enclosing everything as though with impassable walls, and in the
centre all sorts of people, in all sorts of costumes, walking up
and down.
There were brown men, yellow men, red men, black men, big men,
little men, thin men, fat men, lame men, deformed men, men with
goitres, men covered with feathers, men covered with fur,--in
fact, men of every possible kind, size, and land,--men to suit
every possible taste.
All the most curious specimens were represented. Besides these
there was a colossal menagerie. In it there were more than twenty
elephants, giraffes, hippopotami, rhinoceroses, zebras,
dromedaries, camels, and the rarest kinds of antelopes. Then came
the reptiles,--from the boa constrictor, who was ten yards long,
to the smallest blind-worm, amongst them some of the most
dangerous kinds. Crocodiles twenty feet long, monstrous toads,
tortoises as big as donkeys. Then there were the wild beasts too.
Lions from Abyssinia, from Atlas, tigers from Bengal, from Persia,
jaguars, panthers, leopards, all the big cat family, lynx, onca,
tiger cat. Bears of all kinds, grizzly, grey, black, and white.
Then came wolves, foxes, coyotes, in fact the whole series of the
dog tribe with every possible domestic variety.
In little barred cages was a collection of smaller carnivorous
animals and rodents. In a huge room all the monkeys from the big
gorilla to the minute ouistiti or witsit, were installed; they
squabbled, pulled one another's tails, bit one another, uttered
piercing cries. There were constant battles going on in that
corner.
Then in an immense aviary were all the birds of creation, divided
into classes, from the humming-bird, the size of a hornet, to the
ostrich. This was, to tell the truth, the part that interested
Mother Etienne most of all. She was more used to creatures of this
kind, they reminded her of her beloved poultry-yard. In spite of
the signs put up everywhere, "Do not feed the animals," the good
woman who had purposely filled her basket with cakes threw them in
indiscriminately. There were enough for all the animals she
passed. First she threw some to the lions. The lions took no
notice, at which she was most surprised. Her idea in offering the
cakes was to see if the animals were hungry and to find out that
way how they were treated.
Miss Booum, who was acting as her guide, was much amused at her
astonishment and could not resist saying:
"Madame, to offer a cream bun to a tiger is like offering a
beef-steak to an elephant. Just keep your cakes for the ostriches,
they are so greedy that they will eat stones. If they were to keep
a hardware store they would be certain to eat up their stock."
Pleased at this permission, when she came to the ostriches, Mother
Etienne offered them a cake, but they looked down at it very
haughtily and suspiciously. From this she concluded that even
those birds were so well-fed that they were not hungry and felt
quite satisfied about Yollande.
After half an hour's walk through the circus, having visited every
corner of it, they went towards the manager's house. There five
o'clock tea was served. Mother Etienne, quite at ease, did honour
to the lunch so graciously provided, and after thanking Miss Booum
gratefully, she kissed Yollande very tenderly and prepared to
return to the farm.
At a sign from the young American girl, a stout piebald pony,
harnessed to a trap, was led forward by a groom.
"That is my own carriage and my horse Charlie, which you can drive
yourself, Madame, if you like. He is quick and safe, you may be
sure of that. You will be at home again in less time than it took
to come here with four horses. Farewell, dear Madame, a pleasant
drive. Remember that we expect you tomorrow for the afternoon
performance, and that nice little maid of yours too. Your seats
will be reserved."
The two women shook hands cordially, Mother Etienne got into the
carriage, and took the reins. The pony feeling a hand used to
driving, set off at a quick trot, then warming to his work flew
over the ground. He had the paces of a big horse and had to be
kept well in hand.
Mother Etienne soon reached home delighted with her adventure. She
was assailed by questions from Germaine and Petit-Jacques. They
sat there drinking in her words. Mother Etienne told them as best
she could all that had happened and all that she had seen in the
most secret wings of the gigantic circus. Germaine in her
excitement was forgetful enough to let the soup boil over and the
roast burn, but all the same they dined gaily. There were still
plenty of questions to be asked. Mother Etienne had to go over
every detail and even to tell some stories over again. They went
on talking far into the night--so charmed were the listeners at
the recital.
Nobody thought of going to bed. Germaine was longing for the
morrow, she was so anxious to see for herself this fairyland.
At last, midnight striking, reminded Mother Etienne that it was
time for sleep. Then they all went to bed, each head full of the
wonders of tomorrow's performance.