TICKETS TO PARADISE
On Wednesday Mr. Phillips reported that while the matter of allowing
Mrs. Mullarkey to keep Jerry had not been decided, he would not be taken
to the poor farm on that day at least and he thought it could be
arranged that he shouldn't go there at all. Consequently it was with a
joyous heart that Jerry awoke early on the morning of the great day that
the circus was to reach town. He had slept fitfully all night, thinking
of the circus and fearing that he might not wake up in time. Mrs.
Mullarkey had promised to call him, but for once Jerry had waked up
himself.
He heard a stir downstairs and called to Mother 'Larkey that he was up.
He roused Chris, who in turn called Danny, but Danny was a sound sleeper
and merely turned on his side. Chris and Jerry then rolled him over and
pulled the covers off and finally pummeled the sleeper into a state of
semi-consciousness.
"It's time for the circus to unload," they told him. "We're all dressed,
ready to go."
Danny opened one swollen, sleepy eye, "Aw, it's not time yet," he
muttered drowsily and went back to sleep.
"All right, let him be," said Chris in disgust. "We ain't got time to
wake him. We'll miss the unloadin' if we do."
So Jerry and Chris tiptoed carefully downstairs, for they knew Mrs.
Mullarkey had gone back to bed, and ran through the dim light of dawn to
the railway station.
The circus train was in and the unloading had already begun. Nearly all
the small boys in town seemed to be perched on fences, roofs, and in
trees, watching the proceedings. The circus men were tired and cross and
made the children keep out of the way.
Jerry was dreadfully excited and exhilarated upon seeing four elephants
on the opposite side of the train, and his delight knew no bounds when
one of them was hitched to a heavy circus wagon on a car and pulled it
down a board incline to the road. The funny, awkward animal walked
right along as though the wagon were as light as a feather. Many of the
boys complained because the sides of the wagons in which the wild
animals were kept were closed, but not so Jerry. As long as he could
feast his eyes on the elephants he was content. He had but a passing
glance for the humpbacked camels and the two long-necked giraffes until
after the elephants had been taken away.
When the train had been unloaded and the last wagons were hauled away,
the troop of small boys--and many older ones and grown men as
well--followed them out to the circus ground.
Already one big tent and several smaller ones had been erected and the
elephants and the other animals were not to be seen. There was a
delightfully circusy smell of oils and sawdust and hay and animals
pervading the air. Then through it all came another smell that made
Jerry and Chris and many of the boys and men sniff. It was the smell of
bacon and eggs frying. The cooks were preparing breakfast for the circus
troupe.
"I'm hungry," said a man back of Jerry to the two boys with him. "We'd
better get home. Mother will be waiting breakfast for us." They left the
circus grounds reluctantly, the two boys stopping every now and then to
look back.
That inviting odor of frying bacon and eggs was a clarion call to
breakfast to scores of the onlookers, and the crowd fairly melted away
until not more than a dozen boys were left, among whom Jerry saw Darn
Darner.
"I'm awful hungry," said Chris, after they had wandered around half an
hour longer. "Let's go home. I guess we've seen about all there is to
see."
Jerry protested. "Let's wait a while longer an' mebbe they'll bring the
el'funts out."
"Mebbe they will," said Chris and seemed straightway to forget all about
his hunger. They went about the tents again and once caught sight of the
elephants and camels in the second largest tent, as one of the canvasmen
came out and held back the flaps. He was followed by another man with a
thick, black beard, who wore something that flashed in his shirt front.
"Gee, look at the size of that diamond!" exclaimed Darn Darner's voice
back of Jerry.
The man looked sharply about. Jerry thought he seemed very much
surprised and was afraid he might be angry because he and Chris were so
close to the tent. He started to go away, but upon hearing the man speak
he stood rooted to the spot.
"What in the world has become of all the small boys?" the black-bearded
man had asked the other. "There were hundreds about a few minutes ago.
Don't they know they can get to see the circus if they want to carry
water for the elephants?"
"I guess the boys in this town never saw a circus before, Mr. Burrows,"
replied the canvasman.
"Here, you," Mr. Burrows called to Darn. "Want to earn a ticket to the
circus?"
"No," said Darn loftily. "I've got a reserved box seat." He turned and
walked off.
"What did I tell you, Sam?" laughed Mr. Burrows. "There's money in this
jay town and we're going to get a bunch of it."
Jerry stepped hastily forward, a light of joy dancing in his eyes, with
Chris treading on his heels. "Please, mister," said Jerry eagerly,
"we'll carry water for the elephants."
"We want to see the circus," added Chris.
"You're too little to carry water," said Sam. "Where're all the bigger
kids?"
"They've gone home to breakfast," replied Chris. "Please, mister, we can
carry water. I'm big enough."
"Yes, I guess you're big enough," said the man with the diamond in his
shirt, "but the elephants are awful thirsty and it will take you a long
time. Sam, you see if you can find some other boys to help you."
Sam departed instantly.
"Where'll we get the water?" asked Chris.
"From that house across the road. You'll have to pump it. Your brother
there had better go home; he's too little to carry water."
"No, I ain't, mister," said Jerry eagerly. "I'm awful strong for my
age."
"How old are you?" asked the man.
"I don't know," Jerry confessed. Then, fearful of losing this
opportunity to see the circus, he continued, "I guess I'm almost seven
or mebbe eight."
"You don't know how old you are!" exclaimed the man. "You look much
younger than seven or eight."
"He's not my brother," Chris explained. "He's a orfum my father found
when he was alive. My brother's at home with mother and my sisters. We
couldn't wake him up. But Jerry's awful strong."
"A orfum, hey? And awful strong?" said the man and seemed to be studying
over something in his mind. "Have you ever seen a circus?" he asked.
"No, sir," they both assured him and Chris continued: "Mother did once,
just after she was married to father. She wished she could bring us all
to the circus but she didn't have money enough."
"H'm," said the man. "I used to be a orfum myself and I know how you
feel."
"Did you?" asked Jerry, and he smiled up at the man, unafraid, with a
sort of fellow feeling.
"I sure did," the man smiled down at Jerry. "I got to see my first
circus through carrying water for the elephants."
At this moment Sam returned with four other boys, all older than either
Jerry or Chris.
"I never saw boys so shy of a circus before, Mr. Burrows," he said.
"They've melted away as though the circus were a plague. But I guess we
can get along with these."
"All right, Sam," replied Mr. Burrows, "but I want you to pump the water
and let the boys do the carrying. These two boys," and he put a hand on
Jerry's head and one on Chris's shoulder, "have never seen a circus.
They'll help carry water and be sure that they get a matinee ticket
apiece."
"All right, sir," replied Sam. "Come on, boys."
"Let these two carry a pail between them," continued Mr. Burrows, "I
don't want them breaking their backs."
Jerry felt an unusual warmth go surging through him. He was going to
carry water for the elephants and get a ticket to the circus, after all!
He was gladder than ever that he had bought the cough medicine for
Kathleen with the black half-dollar. He looked up at Mr. Burrows, and it
was such a look as a friendless dog might give to a man who had just
petted it and given it something to eat.
"Thank you, mister, for lettin' me carry water for the el'funts," said
Jerry.
"That's all right," replied the man. "Here, there's a dime for peanuts.
Have a good time."
Jerry was too surprised to take the dime and Mr. Burrows pressed it into
his hand and went back into the tent before Jerry had recovered.
"The boss must have taken a fancy to you!" said Sam to Jerry. "Well,
them elephants is awful thirsty and we've got to get to work. Come on."
Jerry, envied of all the boys, put the dime in his blouse pocket. He
seemed to be treading on air instead of the solid earth as he followed
Sam to another part of the ground where the boys were given large pails.
He felt in his blouse pocket every now and then to make sure that he
really had a dime and also that it had not grown wings and flown out of
his pocket, or made a hole in it and dropped out. It was always there
and his feeling of exhilaration at his good fortune kept up, despite the
hard work of carrying that pailful of water from the pump across the
street to the back of the second biggest tent, where he and Chris
emptied it into a kind of a tub. There were half a dozen of the tubs to
be filled, and before the third one was full Jerry's arms and back
ached, but he gritted his teeth and kept on. He would show them that he
wasn't too little to carry water for the elephants.
Under the ache in his arms and back, his exhilaration at the possession
of the dime and the prospect of a ticket to the circus wilted but did
not die. When the fourth tub was about full he sat down on the pump
platform while Sam filled their pail with water.
"El'funts must drink a nawful lot of water," he said.
"Gettin' tired, ain't you?" asked Sam.
"No, I could carry water all day, I guess. It makes my back ache some
because I ain't used to it."
"You kids have made more trips than the other boys," said Sam, "and I
ain't going to fill your pail clear full any more. Don't try to go so
fast with it. There's plenty of time."
"We want to carry enough for two tickets," said Jerry quickly. "Chris
wants to see the circus, too, don't you, Chris?"
"You bet," replied Chris.
"You'll get a ticket apiece, all right, as long as I'm on the job," said
Sam, giving them the pail not much more than half full of water.
"That's a whole lot easier to carry," Jerry assured Sam, as they started
for the tub.
It seemed to Jerry that he and Chris had been carrying water for hours
by the time the last tub was full. He felt almost starving. The sun
seemed to be 'way up and he was so tired and hot that he was about ready
to drop; but he found that when the work was done and Sam gave each boy
a ticket it wasn't very late, after all.
"It's just nine o'clock," said Sam, "and you kids'd better scoot home
and get some breakfast. Just show your mothers them tickets if they
scold you for stayin' so long and I guess they'll hush right up. The
matinee starts at 2:15, but if you want to see the menagerie, you'd
better come about half-past one or right after the parade."
Those magic pieces of paper, which Jerry and Chris held tightly in their
hands for fear of losing them, made them forget their hunger and
weariness and they set off for home at full speed. They raced breathless
into the house and found that Mrs. Mullarkey and Nora had finished
washing the breakfast dishes.
"Look, mother!" cried Chris, panting for breath after almost every word,
"we've got tickets for the circus for helpin' carry water for the
el'funts!"
"Oh, how nice!" said Mrs. Mullarkey. "They will be tickets to paradise
to you. Now you'll get to see the circus, after all. But you must be
about starved."
"We are, almost," Jerry admitted.
"Gee, my arms ache," Chris remarked.
"You boys had better rub each other's backs with liniment while I get
your breakfast," Mother 'Larkey said, getting a bottle down from the
cupboard.
"Did Danny get a ticket, too?" Celia Jane asked.
"No," said Chris.
"Why, where is Danny?" inquired his mother.
"I don't know," replied Chris. "He was asleep when we left. We tried to
wake him but he wouldn't get up."
"Land's sakes!" exclaimed Mrs. Mullarkey. "He must still be upstairs,
fast asleep! I heard you calling him and then heard you tiptoeing
downstairs and out of the house and thought he was with you." She went
to the foot of the stairs and called and the sleepy voice of Danny
answered:
"All right. Is it time for the circus to unload?"
"It unloaded hours ago," she replied, "and Chris and Jerry have got back
with each of them a ticket to the circus for helping carry water for the
elephants."
"Why didn't you call me!" wailed Danny.
"Chris and Jerry called you," answered his mother. "I heard them and
heard you answer. It's your own fault for being such a sleepyhead."
It didn't take Danny long to dress and get downstairs, his hair all
tousled and his eyes still heavy with sleep. "Let's see your tickets,"
he demanded.
Chris let him see his, but kept a possessive hold of one end. There it
was:
BURROWS AND FAIRCHILD'S
MAMMOTH CIRCUS AND
MENAGERIE
ADMIT ONE
COMPLIMENTARY
"That's a ticket, all right," Danny remarked. "Was that all you had to
do to get it--carry water for the el'funts?"
"Yes," replied Chris, "but it took hours and hours. I'm sore all over."
"So'm I," said Jerry.
"Why didn't you make me wake up?"
"We called you and pounded you and turned you over," Chris replied, "but
you went back to sleep."
"Why didn't you kick me or pull me out of bed?" Danny asked. "Then mebbe
I'd've got a ticket, too."
"Mebbe you can, anyway," said Celia Jane. "The el'funts'll want a drink
at noon."
"I'll go out and see," said Danny and was hurrying off at once, but Mrs.
Mullarkey made him wait for breakfast. He bolted the oatmeal and bread
and raced out of the house.
"I'm glad I'm not a sleepy-head like Danny," said Chris.
"So'm I," echoed Jerry.