Beadle's Dime Library, No. 406 — page 3: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

; boys. this way Bownsse is Old Pop Hicks, Showman. of the show took the hint at once, and turned out in marvelously short order. rte things in an oratorical manner, mouthing is words so as to impress people with the be- Old Pop Hicks did not wait to see the effectof | lief that he was a person of great wisdom, his little stratagem. for he had to play the clown in his own show and had not yet dressed. He heard a great shouting and cheering out- side, as the brilliantly-dressed circus performers rode out and circled the tent at a gallop, exe- cuting a few simple feats to attract the crowd, and muttered to himself. ‘*T knowed it—I knowed it, Fetch ’em in, That’s your sort,” Then came the thundering of feet on the planks in the tent, that told how the crowd had begun to pour in; and the old man went on with his hurried: toilet, as the rest of his people came amg in at the back door, laughing to each other. | ‘* How did ye do it—how did ye do it?” cried Pop Hicks, in his big base voice, as he kicked off his trowsers and showed himself in his clown’s tights. ** What did ye say?” ‘Told ’em the racket was going to begin, and dashed in; that’s all,” replied Tom Fowler, laughing. ‘* Gave ’em a free stand on the old mare’s back, and rode in jest as they thought I was going to jump,” | Pop Hicks ran to his dressing-table to put on his clown wig, and talked all the while he was adjusting it, and laying on the streaks of red and white on his jolly face. ** Where’s Rabbetts? Tell him to whoop up the band, and start the entry going. We've got 7em now, boys.” (Dab, dab of the puff over his face, till he was ‘white all over like a corpse.] ‘‘ Where's that band? Confound ’em! why don’t they earn their money and play?” Then, as the thundering of feet outside con- tinued, he picked up the rouge-pot and made a circular dab on each cheek, freshened the end of his nose, and continued the line of bis lips till he seemed to be grinning from ear to ear, and his toilet was complete. The moment he heard the band in the tent, and saw the men and women on horseback filing out of the stables for the ‘“‘ opening cavalcade,” his nervous manner ceased, and he smiled to bhim- self as he muttered:, ‘* There—there, *tain’t my fault if she don’t go right. Ive done all I can, and I can’t do more. Bi! Ae gig is hard to beat.” nd so saying, with the showman’s resigna- tion to good or bad luck which he cannot ex- plain to himself, he went to the entrance of the stables to look into the ring, not expecting much, and saw that the tent was packed with people, who were still settling into their seats, with more pouring in. The old showman’s smile expanded as he look- ed, almost to the dimensions of that painted on his cheek, and he turned to a big raw-boned man, dressed in green velvet and gold lace, to say: ' ‘* Well, Jim, well? We got ’em that time, hey?” } im Perkins was the sole owner and performer of the elephant, King Philip, which had caused such a commotion that day—a very tall, brawny fellow, with a dark, stern-looking face. He cast a glance over the crowd and answered ee a ‘*Hem! Pretty well. If they wouldn’t come for King Philip nothing would fetch ’em. It don’t look well for us to be bucking ag’in’ Bownsse a hull season. One of us has to go under, and he’s got a bigger pile nor you to back him, Hicks.” Old Pop Hicks bit his lips with an air of vexa- tion. He was an old-fashioned showman, who liked to be on friendly terms with all his people, and ‘‘ Elephant Jim Perkins” was the first man he had been unabie to get along with pleas- antly. 4 i don’t know what you mean, Mr. Perkins,” he said, rather stiffly. ‘“‘I never went back on my engagements yet, and I’ve got a better show than he has, or the guys wouldn't come in as they do.” lephant Jim curled his lip. “* The season ain’t over yet, and the only sure aang in circus’ biz is—Saturday night and set- up. Pop Hicks turned round on him sharply. “Have I ever failed you, Saturday night?” ** Don’t say ye have, but ef things goes on >a f ao goin’ hae ,* us,” replied don’ ¥ rs ama y: ou know that, Pop, op looked his ling follow ai he al oy, g follower in the eye ‘* Tf he does, it’s my loss, not yours, Jim. I’m running this show, and if Bownsse chooses to buck against me, it’s my lookout and poteyours All I want of you is to do your act and keep your brute from frightening the guys. I’m more afraid of that than I am of Bownsse.” Perkins was about to answer when a dra per little gentleman, with a bald head huge dark mustache and velvet coat came out of a dressing’- room, drawing the lash of a long whip throug his hand, and approached Pop with the bland remark, in the deepest of base voices to come from so small a man: ** Good-evening, Mr. Hicks.” He had ‘a way of saying the most common- ec te hh LLL and he officiated as,ring-master in the show. Pop Hicks at once. became jolly again and executed a profound reverence, saying: . ‘* Pro-fessor, your most obedient, and how does your ponderosity sagaciate to-night, sir?” He was so used to talking nonsense in the ring as clown that he did it behind the scenes when- ever he saw his confederate, Professor Rabbetts, the ring-master, ‘* Pretty well, thank you, sir,” returned the Professor, with funereal gravity; ‘‘ pretty well— yes, pretty well—pretty well—pretty “well.” ‘* Does it run champagne?’* inquired Pop, anxiously. ‘‘ Does it, Professor?’ ‘* Does what run champagne, sir? Does what run champagne? What do youmean, sir? What should run champagne, sir?” Professor Rabbetts asked these questions slowly and pompously in the style he used in the ring, which bad become from long habit second nature with him. ‘* Does what run champagne, sir?” ** That pretty well you spoke of, By gosh! if it does, it’s a splendid well,” returned the old clown, with an oily chuckle at his own poor joke, and so great was the force of habit that Profes- sor Rabbetts immediately cracked his whip and announced: ‘*Ma’m’selle Celestine, in her unparalleled manege act.” ‘*‘It’s not time,” called out a voice from a dressing-room near by. ‘‘I don’t go on till after Tom Fowler.” a A pretty, saucy face was poked out from be- tween the curtains, framed in short curls of the very lightest flaxen; a face with a little turn-u nose and very dark-blue eyes, a perpetual cur to the red lips, as if the owner were laughing at something. *“ What are you calling on me for?” she asked. ‘It’s not my turn.” \ | ‘* Absence of mind, Miss Sally, absence of mind,” returned Rabbetts, with a flourish, ‘absence of mind, I assure you—yes, yes, ab- sence of mind, Miss Sally.” ‘* Are you sure you’ve got any to be absent?” asked the girl, saucily. ; Rabbetts gave a snort. ‘*Ha! ha! very good, ver good, very good—very good— be absent—-good—ha! ha!” ‘*Oh, give us a rest with your very good,” the girl returned, as saucily as before. ‘‘ You make my head ache when you hear a good thing, Rabbetts.” Then to Hicks: ‘** Say, pa, how’s the house?” “Very good, Sally, splendid,” returned Pop Hicks, smiling all over. ‘‘ Hurry up, child. Here come the people in, and Perkins goes on next. Don’t make a wait.” Sally Hicks made a face at her parent. ‘‘ Did I ever make a wait yet?” she asked. ** Wish you could say the same for all your people. -ta. I’m nearly ready.” en she vanished, and the rustling and gig- gling in the ladies’ dressing-room showed that people were dressing in a hurry in there, while, outside, the opening cavalcade came tearing into the stables. Then Professor Rabbetts, with his usual state- ly stride. (albeit his legs were of the shortest), marched into the ring, to be followed by Pop Hicks a moment later, turning a clumsy somer- set and coming up smiling, to roar, with the lungs of an old. clown the ancient gag: ‘** Well, Professor, and how does your ponder- osity sagaciate on this bright and beautiful, not to sa ppreaeiterous evening, sir? How’s that for high Aha?” The usual interchange of venerable witticisms followed; Pop Hicks doing his best, inspired by the large audience around him, till the time came for the introduction of King Philip, the great elephant. — ' Then they backed aside, and the old manager had a chance to inspect the reserved seats more closely, being unnoticed as the elephant came lumbering in. On the front row were several gorgeously- attired gentlemen, with diamonds on, and eac pelts, | Bail and expensive bouquet of flowers in good—ha! ha— iss Sally—and to CHAPTER III. THE RIOTOUS DUDES. THE old manager was not rised at the sight of 50 many sports, for he knew that his pretty daughter, who rode her chestnut mare, lirt, in the race i act, had been a favorite in all the towns they had passed through, and * A lady for whose opinions I entertain the highest respect, and of whose broomstick I stand in awe, ob- jects to the exchange of witticisms between'the ring- master and clown in this chapter, that it_is. in her picturesque pores, “old as the hills.”’ To be true to nature it Aad to be so. If any of my readers can discover a circus clown who has invented a new joke since the discovery of erica by Christopher Co- lumbus, he can make a fortune—for the clown—by publishing the lucky man’s full name with the joke appended,—AvUTHOR. ‘fences, to save the buggy more than one rich man had come dangling after her. He only grinned, and muttered to himself: ‘* Lord, what fools some folks are! But it’s all good for the business.” Then the great elephant came in with Jim Perkins, gorgeous in green velvet and gold lace, and executed its usual feats, throwing up its master from the end of its tusks in a somerset to its head, kneeling and firing guns at command, till it finally lumbered out of the ring. As it went, Pop noticed that Perkins had to pone it severely several times, and that the ast uttered an angry cry; but he thought nothing of it till he heard one of the sports hind him say, audibly: ’ ‘*That brute’s not safe to have in a show, Some day there will be a bad accident. He nearly killed me this morning; it ought to be put in the Fores! The words disturbed the manager more than he cared to show. As a matter of fact, King Philip was an ill- tempered beast, who was kept in order by ex- cessive severity; but Pop Hicks had no fears about an accident. What he did fear was that the disposition of the elephant might be exaggerated in the papers and frighten away people. And the man who spoke was sitting next toa youth with a note-book, who opened a whispered conversation with him instanter. Pop Hicks had all a manager’s fears of a newspaper, and he immediately sidled off to the entrance of the stables, and called out, sotto ce: PP g icat Mr. Moone here at once, when I- come off.” Then he dashed on ain, and was more funny than ever during the -riding act of Ma’m’zelle Hippolyte, who made her appearance in all the piory. of short skirts, and leaped through the hoops in the approved style. _.. He kept a sharp lookout on the little reporter and the sports during the act, and as soon-as it was over went to the stable entrance, where he found a little, weary-looking man, shabbily dressed, to whom he said, rapidly: ‘* You’re not attending to your business, There’s a fellow queering* our show to a repur- ter about png hilip and the runaway team to-day. You'll see him. Black -mustache— | diamonds. Go and put the newspaper guy straight.” Mr. Moone nodded and slipped off among the men of the audience till] he got to the reporter, when Pop Hicks smiled with satisfaction to see him take his seat by the diamond-studded gentlemen and enter into conversation with them. ‘*Good boy, Moone,” he muttered, as he went on again. ‘“ He'll put the guy straight.” Then came Mr. Tom Fowler, who went through his bareback act amid great applause, but Pop Hicks noticed that the sports in the front row paid little attention to him, and fre- quently laughed to each other, as if sneering. When the bareback act was over, Pop Hicks felt his heart beat in spite of himself, old show- man that he was. His daughter was the next to perform, and he conld not get over the httle flutter of anxi that her appearance always caused him, confi- dent as he was of her success. In fact, Sally Hicks, little slender girl that she was, hardly weighing a hundred pounds, executed one of the most difficult and perilous feats in the whole show at the close of her man- ege act, when she leaped four hurdles in close succession, and concluded by a flying leap over a twelve-foot banner. If her horse was not fresh and vigorous, it was very apt to fall over one of the hurdles, and in that case a bad acci- dent was very rine Sh happen. And Flirt had had a hard ride t very morning over hi om going over the The old man made his jokes as usual, till the time came to retire, when he ran to the stable — entrance, to find his daughter there, saucy as ever, on the mare, waiting for the bell to her out. ‘*How’s Flirt?” he asked, anxiously. ‘Can she go through, Sally? If you’re afraid, say the word, and we'll the last leap.” Sally laughed and shook her head. ‘‘ Flirt’s all right, pa. Don’t you be afraid. How are the guys?” ‘* Packed close, Sally, like sardines; There’s a lot of mashers in diamonds, with bokays, in —_ place. Look out fur’em. They may skeer irt. “ All right, pa. Ill know what to do.” Then came the ‘‘ting /” of the bell, and the Professor announced in base tones: ) ** Ma’m’selle Celestine, in her unparalleled and daring manege act! Ma’m’selle Celestine!” Then came a roar of applause as the chestnut mare dashed out, with her t:im little rider in a plain brown habit and high black hat, and cir- cled the ring at a slow canter, the girl bowing in answer to the applause. ; Little Sally Hicks, under her ring name of * “Queering” a show is running it down. A (El oveye) <S “queer ” show is a poor one com com — hy *