JACK DOES A STUNT
“Say, ain’t this bully!” exclaimed Ferd, as the procession which begins
each circus performance wound slowly around the arena. “It’s immense! I
wouldn’t ’a’ missed it fer a lot. I’m glad I met you. Now I’ve got half
a dollar more to spend on stuff to eat. Besides, this is a better seat
than I would ’a’ got.”
“Yes, the seats are all right,” admitted Jack.
“Ain’t you hungry?” went on Ferd, though he did not take his eyes
off the procession of animals, chariots and performers. “I am,” he
continued, not waiting for an answer. “Let’s have some hot frankfurter
sandwiches.”
A man with a basket of them was passing among the audience. Jack eyed
the brown sausages, in between the white rolls, with a hungry eye. The
crackers, cheese, and pie had not been very “filling.”
“Hey, there! Give us some of them,” called Ferd to the man.
“How many? Speak quick. I’ve got to get out of here in a hurry, before
the performance begins,” replied the vender.
“Four,” replied the farmer boy. “Ye can eat two, can’t ye?” he inquired
of Jack, who nodded his head in assent.
“Say, these are all right,” remarked the runaway lad, as he munched the
meat and bread, on which had been spread a liberal quantity of mustard.
“I’m glad I met you, Ferd.”
“Then we’re even. But here comes the acrobats. I like to watch ’em,” he
added, as the procession came to an end, amid a blare of trumpets, and
the show proper began.
It was like any other traveling circus, better than some, but not as
good as the large ones, even though the gaudy posters did announce
that the “Combined Bower & Brewster Aggregation of Monster Menagerie,
Hippodrome, Amphitheatre and Colossal Exhibition challenged comparison
with any similar amusement enterprise in the entire world.”
“Look at that clown!” exclaimed Ferd. “Why, there’s a whole lot of
’em,” he added. “Gosh! but this is great! I never saw such a good show!
I don’t know which way to look!”
In fact, so many things were going on at the same time that it was
difficult to select any particular feature for observation.
There were men and women on high trapezes, others doing balancing feats
on elevated platforms, still others performing on the backs of horses,
while in a ring near the two boys ten elephants were being put through
their paces.
Jack had often been to a circus before, and now, from a reason for
which he could hardly account, he paid particular attention to the
antics of the clowns.
“I believe I could do as good as some of them, with a little practice,”
he thought. “What is needed is some sort of funny stunt to make the
people laugh. It doesn’t much matter what it is, as long as it’s funny.”
The clowns did seem to cause considerable laughter. Some of them had
trained dogs, pigs or roosters which they used in their act. Others had
a partner who aided them in provoking smiles or shouts of glee. Some
did acrobatic stunts, some sang or danced, and one, with the help of
a companion, acted as a barber using a whitewash brush to spread the
lather on his partner’s face.
“This is the kind of life that would suit me for a while,” said Jack to
himself. “I’d like to travel with a circus, and I believe I could do
as good as some of those clowns, if I had a chance. What’s more, I’m
going to try for a job here. I’ll ask the boss canvasman if there isn’t
a chance. I’d just like to be with the show, and maybe I could earn
enough money in the season to pay my way to China, and see what has
happened to my folks.”
This thought so occupied Jack that he paid little attention to the
performance. He made up his mind he would seek out one of the managers,
as soon as the show was over, and make his request.
“Say! Look at that! Did ye see it?” suddenly exclaimed Ferd.
“See what?”
“Why, that man jumped over ten elephants in a line!”
“That’s pretty good,” remarked Jack indifferently.
“Pretty good? I should say it was. I’d like to see you do it.”
“I think I’ll do it,” spoke Jack, who had just arrived at a certain
decision.
“What? Jump over ten elephants?” asked his companion, in astonishment.
“Say, are you dreamin’?”
“That’s right; I guess I was,” admitted Jack, with a laugh. “I was
thinking about something else.”
“Guess you don’t care much about a circus,” said Ferd.
“I’m thinking too much of getting a job,” replied Jack.
Ferd shook his head as if he could not understand Jack’s indifference.
After the performance the farm boy wanted to treat Jack to popcorn,
soda, and more frankfurters. Jack declined everything but the sausage
sandwiches.
“I can save them to eat when I’m hungry,” he said in explanation. “I
may need a meal to-night.”
“Why don’t you come home and stay with me a few days?” suggested Ferd.
“My folks wouldn’t care, and maybe you could get a job somewhere in the
neighborhood.”
Jack thanked his new friend, but said he had other plans. A little
later he parted from Ferd, and, by inquiring, he found the boss
canvasman, who was taking a rest after his labors in superintending the
erection of the tents.
Jack explained what he wanted--an introduction to the manager, who had
charge of hiring the performers.
“Sure I’ll take you to him,” replied Ike Landon, “only I don’t believe
you can do anything he’d want. Circus performers have to train for a
good while.”
“Well, maybe I can do something to earn a little,” replied Jack. “Where
will I find the manager? What’s his name?”
“His name is Jim Paine, and he’s a strict manager, let me tell you. But
if you make good, why, he’s all right. Come on over and I’ll introduce
you to him.”
Jack followed the canvasman across the circus grounds, from which most
of the audience had gone. Preparations were already under way for the
evening performance.
“Mr. Paine, here’s a lad who wants to join our circus,” remarked
Landon, with a grin, as he presented Jack. “He did me a good turn this
morning, and I’d like to help him if I could.”
“Ha! Hum!” exclaimed the manager, looking at Jack sharply. The runaway
noticed that Mr. Paine was a very pompous sort of person. He wore a red
vest, with yellow spots on it, a big red tie, in which sparkled a large
stone, and he had an immense watch chain.
Jack wondered if the manager was not going to say anything more than
“Ha! Hum!” But presently the big man made another remark.
“What can you do?” he asked.
“Well, not very much, perhaps,” replied Jack. “I’d like to learn to be
a clown, but I’d be willing to knock around and do almost anything for
a while, until I learned the business.”
“Run away from home?” asked the manager snappily.
“Yes,” replied Jack quickly, determined to tell as much as was
necessary of what had happened.
“Ha! Hum! First time I ever knew a boy who had run away from home to
admit it,” spoke the manager. “You deserve credit for that, anyway.
What’s the trouble?”
Thereupon Jack told of the unjust accusation of the old professor, and
what had happened to him since he had left Westville.
“So you want to be a clown, eh?” said the manager when Jack’s story was
finished. “Had any training?”
“I used to take the part in amateur shows me and my chums got up, and I
did a stunt on a vaudeville stage one night.”
“Let’s see what you can do?”
Jack’s heart beat fast. Here was the very chance he wanted. Could he
“make good?” So much depended on the first impression.
“Is there a place where I can make-up?” he asked.
“Make-up? Do you know how to make-up?”
“A little bit.”
“Well, if Ike Landon says you helped him, you must be all right, for
he’s a hard man to please. If you’re going to have a try-out, you might
as well do it proper. You can go to the dressing-tent.”
“Where is it?”
“Right over there,” and the manager pointed. “Ike will show you.
Tell Sam Kyle to give him a hand,” the manager called after the boss
canvasman. “I’ll wait here for him,” he added.
“Say, you’re in luck,” said Ike. “It ain’t many he’d give such a chance
to. Do you know what you’re going to do?”
“A little.”
Jack was introduced to a small, fat man, who, in the men’s
dressing-tent, was busy washing the red and white paint off his face.
“Sam is the head clown,” explained the canvasman. “He’s been in the
business--let’s see, how long is it now, Sam?”
“Forty years this season. I was one of the first clowns that Barnum
ever hired. You’ll find some grease paint over there,” he added to
Jack; and then he and the canvasman began to talk about matters
connected with the circus, paying no more attention to the runaway lad.
Jack was quite nervous, but he made-up after an original idea of his
own. He turned his coat and vest wrongside out, and, with the aid of
Ike, put them on backwards. Then, feeling rather foolish over what he
was about to do, he stepped from the dressing-tent and walked over to
where the manager had said he would wait for him.
Several of the performers who saw Jack emerge laughed at his curious
costume and “make-up.”
“Well, I must look funny, no matter how I feel,” he said. “I hope I can
do my funny dance.”
“Ha! Hum!” exclaimed the manager, when he saw Jack. “That’s not so
bad. Let’s see what you can do.”
A crowd of performers, and some of the circus helpers, gathered in a
ring about the boy. Then Jack began. He repeated some of the things
he had done in the theatre at home, but added to them. He sang, he
danced, and cut all sorts of capers, gaining more and more confidence
in himself as he heard the crowd laughing. He even detected a smile on
the rather grim face of the manager.
Then, to cap his performance, Jack caught up a couple of paper-covered
hoops, or rings, similar to those through which some of the performers
jumped from the backs of running horses. Holding these under his arms,
like a pair of wings, he began to imitate a clumsy bird. He hopped up
on a board that rested across a saw-horse, and, from that elevation,
pretended to fly to the ground, but doing it so grotesquely that he
stepped through both hoops and was all tangled up in them.
This produced some hearty laughs, and one or two of the women
performers applauded, for Ike had whispered to them what Jack’s trial
meant.
“Ha! Hum! Not so bad,” remarked the manager, though his voice was not
very cordial. “That imitation flying was well done. That might be
worked up. I think we can use another clown, as I’m one short. I’ll
engage you, young man. You’ll get ten dollars a week, and your board,
of course. Can you come right on the road?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Ha! Hum! Well, perhaps we can work you into shape. You need some
practice, but it’s not so bad; it’s not so bad. You can consider
yourself engaged. Report to Sam Kyle.”
Jack could hardly believe his good luck. An hour before he had not
known where his next meal was coming from. Now he was engaged as a
clown in a large circus.