JACK MAKES A HIT
That afternoon’s performance was well attended. Jack did the same thing
he had done on the previous day and was moderately well applauded. As
usual, however, Sam Kyle created the most laughter, for he had an act
that was mirth-provoking, and he took advantage of various happenings
in the ring to turn a joke or do some odd stunt that was sure to bring
forth clapping.
Ted Chester, with his miniature automobile, made a hit also. The people
seemed to like him, and this delighted Ted. He strutted about as “proud
as a turkey just before Thanksgiving,” as one of the other clowns put
it.
“Mind you keep away from my side of the ring,” cautioned Ted as he
met Jack on the big circular track. “If I find you interfering with
me again I’ll take matters into my own hands. I don’t care for Sam
Kyle. If you bother with me and spoil my act, you’ve got to take the
consequences.”
“I’m not going to bother you,” replied Jack.
“That’s a hot act you have,” went on Ted. “I wonder the old man lets
you get away with it. What in the world people can find in that to
laugh at I can’t see. It’s on the blink, I think.”
Jack did not consider that any good would come of answering the mean
clown, and he passed into the dressing-tent, as his turn was over for
the afternoon. He encountered his friend Sam, who was washing up after
the performance.
“I saw Ted talking to you,” began the veteran clown. “Is he bothering
you?”
“No--not much,” replied Jack, determined to fight his own battles as
far as he could.
“If he does, let me know, and I’ll speak to the old man about him.”
“Oh, I guess I can get along.”
“All right, only you know I’ll stand by you. Say, I’ve got a suggestion
for you.”
“What is it?”
“Why don’t you make the paper-covered hoops you now use more in the
shape of wings? You can easily do it, for the wood frame is light and
not hard to bend.”
“That’s a good idea. I guess I will, until my regular machine is ready.
I’ll have that Monday or Tuesday, Mr. Delafield said.”
“That’s good. And say, while you’re about it, why don’t you color the
wings? Get some paint and daub ’em up so’s they’ll show off better.
And you might get up a different sort of suit. I’ve got lots of
material.”
“Do you think it would be a good idea?”
“Sure. Change and variety is what we’ve got to give the public.
Besides, the old man likes to see a change in the acts once in a while.
Brighten things up a bit, and I think he’ll appreciate it.”
“I will,” replied Jack, and that afternoon he made some paper affairs
that looked more like wings than did the hoops, while he sewed some
bright-colored patches on his white suit and made up to look like some
grotesque bird.
“That’s fine!” exclaimed Sam as he saw his protégé getting ready for
the ring that night. “You’ve got the right knack, Jack. You’d ought to
have been in this business before.”
“I like it,” said the runaway lad. “It just suits me, so far, though
it hasn’t been all easy sailing. But I sometimes think I’ve made a
mistake. I should have stayed with the professor, for that’s where the
first news of my folks will come, and I’m getting worried about them.
I’m afraid they may have been killed by the fanatical Chinese.”
“Oh, I don’t believe anything as bad as that has happened,” replied
Sam. “I read the papers every day, and while there are dispatches
telling of trouble in China, no Americans have suffered.”
“But the trouble is we can’t seem to get any trace of my folks,” went
on Jack. “The authorities don’t know where they are, and how can they
tell whether anything has happened to them or not?”
“Well, look on the bright side of things. That’s my motto,” answered
the clown. “That’s what we’re for--to make people forget their
troubles. Take a little of your own medicine, Jack.”
“Yes, I guess that’s a good idea. I’ll try it. Only I wish I could hear
some news of my folks. If I make any money this season I’ll go to China
and hunt for them.”
“I guess you’ll make some cash,” went on the clown. “But that’s our cue
to enter the ring. Come on now, laugh and smile. A clown that looks as
if he had lost his best friend isn’t much use in a circus. Be happy!
“Hoop la!” he went on, as he ran from the dressing-tent into the ring.
“Oo la la! Tra-la-la! La-de-da!”
Then he turned a couple of handsprings, very nimbly, in spite of his
age, and went on with his act, which, if roars of laughter indicated
anything, must have pleased the audience.
Jack ran out with some of the other clowns, carrying a pair of his new
paper wings. Other pairs, for he had made several that afternoon, were
at different parts of the ring, ready for him, as he broke a pair each
time he did his act.
There was an unusually large crowd present and every performer, feeling
the stimulation of it, was doing his best. It seemed to Jack that he
could do funnier capers than he had ever before attempted, and soon he
had a goodly section of the assemblage laughing at his tricks with the
imitation wings.
“Most merrily mirth-making,” said Mr. Waddleton, the “adjective man,”
as he passed near Jack. “I’m watching you. I’m going to have your new
act on the bills.”
This encouraged the boy, and he went on with a vim, doing his odd
dance, his big wings flapping out behind him.
“Ha! Hum! Not so bad. Not half bad!” remarked Mr. Paine, the manager,
who, in accordance with his custom, was passing about the ring
observing matters. “You’re doing very well, Jack.”
This made Jack forget, in a measure, his troubles--those caused by his
life at the professor’s house, and his flight from it, as well as those
for which his enemies in the circus were responsible.
Jack felt a sense of happiness as he crawled into his bunk in the
sleeping-car that night, and he was becoming so used to the strange
life that he did not lie awake very long. Before he knew it, morning
came, and the show was at the next stop.
This was on Saturday, and, after a good day’s business in a large
country town, the circus started for Stewartsville, where it was to
remain two days; Sunday, during which no performance would be given,
and Monday, when the usual afternoon and evening exhibitions would take
place.
Sunday was pretty much a day of rest with the circus folk. Of course
the tents had to be put up in the morning, and the animals arranged in
places. And the beasts had to be fed, and the performers, whose talents
depended on their muscles or dexterity, did not forego their daily
practice, to keep in condition. But, for the majority of the circus
crowd, there was little to do.
Jack took advantage of the opportunity to go and look at the animals,
for which he had very little time during the regular circus day. He
was fond of wild beasts, and he made the acquaintance of some of the
keepers. He was also introduced to the fat lady and the skeleton man,
who were among the freaks in the side show. He found them both nice
persons, and, in their turn, they seemed attracted to the boy, who,
in spite of his unusually good luck in getting along so well as a
newcomer, in the circus, was quite lonesome at times.
Toward the close of the afternoon Mr. Delafield called Jack into the
property tent. The sight of a big object in the middle caused Jack to
utter an exclamation. There was his new flying machine, complete.
“That’s fine!” he cried. “It will be ready for to-morrow, won’t it?”
“I think so. The paint isn’t quite dry, but it will be by morning.”
The affair was gaudily colored, to match the suit which Jack had
decided to wear. He could hardly wait for morning to try it, and, as
soon as he had his breakfast, he took it into the main tent, where,
with the help of the property man and Sam Kyle, he had his first
rehearsal.
It worked fairly well, though it was found necessary to make one or
two readjustments. But these were finished by afternoon, and Jack got
ready for his first appearance in his new rôle, that of an eccentric,
clownish airship inventor.
He was a little nervous as he took his apparatus with him out into
the ring that afternoon, and set it down in a space in front of the
reserved seats. Then, with an affair that looked like an air pump, he
pretended to fill the muslin bag. All the while he assumed the part of
a man who has just completed an aeroplane and is anxious to see how it
will work.
“Oh, mamma! See the airship! See the airship!” cried a boy in the
audience close to Jack. “Will he really fly, mamma?”
“I don’t know, Bertie. Watch and see,” replied the lady.
“I’m going to fly a little way, if I have luck,” said Jack to himself.
The attention of a considerable portion of the crowd was now drawn to
him. With a heart that beat faster than usual, he went on with his
grotesque preparations. Then he hauled the machine, which was very
light, up on the platform.
There was a laugh as he spread out the big umbrella. Then, pretending
to peer up to the sky, as if in search of storm clouds, Jack took his
place on the suspended seat. The affair was so arranged that he could
walk in it to the edge of the platform before he leaped off.
He recited a funny little verse, composed for him by Mr. Waddleton,
containing references to the various airship inventors then in the
public eye, stood poised for a moment on the edge of the platform, and
then, hoping that everything was all right, and that he would land
safely, he leaped off.
Down, down, down he sailed, the big umbrella buoying him up like a
parachute. He kicked vigorously with his feet, and the big wings
flapped up and down. The crowd burst into loud laughter and there was
hearty applause.
Lower and lower Jack sank down, falling gently to the ground. He ceased
to work the wings, and then came the climax. He pulled a string and
there was a report like a small cannon, while the bag which was held
apart with hoops and springs, collapsed, and the umbrella closed up
with a snap. It looked exactly as if the imitation airship had blown
up on reaching the ground, but this was only a trick Mr. Delafield had
devised at the last moment.
My, what laughter and applause there was then! It was one of the oddest
sights seen in the circus. Jack knew there was no doubt about it--he
had made a hit.