CHAPTER XVI
AT THE CIRCUS
The next morning the Maynard family visited Yale College.
As Mrs. Maynard had seen most of the buildings before, she only cared to visit the newest ones, and so she and Rosy Posy spent most of the time wandering about the grounds or sitting on the benches beneath the Elms. Marjorie and Kitty rambled about as they liked, sometimes going through the buildings with their father and King, and sometimes staying with Mrs. Maynard and the baby.
At luncheon time, Mr. Maynard asked the children what they would like best to do for an afternoon's amusement.
"Aren't we going on to Boston this afternoon?" asked Marjorie, in surprise.
"No," said her father, "it's a long trip, and so we'll start to-morrow morning. Now you children may choose what you'd like to do this afternoon, for your mother and I are going to call on some friends, and we don't want to take you with us."
"Well," said Marjorie, "I can't think of anything we could do in New Haven, unless you or Mother were with us; so I suppose we'll just stay here at the hotel, and,—"
"And cut up jinks," put in King.
Mr. Maynard smiled. "That's exactly what you would do if I left you here by yourselves! So what do you think of this plan? As we shall be gone all the afternoon, I think I will let Pompton take you four infants to the circus."
"Oh, goody, goody!" cried Marjorie. "That will be perfectly gorgeous!
King, won't it be fine to go to the circus?"
"Yes, indeed! And it's a big circus,—I saw the posters yesterday on our way here."
"There are lovely wild animals!" said Kitty, ecstatically. "I saw pictures of lions and tigers,—terrific ones!"
"Me loves tigers," commented Rosy Posy. "They eat peoples all up!"
"These don't," said Kitty. "They're trained ones, and they do tricks.
Why, the man who trains them puts his hand right in their mouths!"
"Ugh!" said Marjorie, with a shudder. "I don't like that part of it. I wish they didn't have the wild beasts. I like the people who swing on a long swing,—"
"Trapeze," said her father.
"Yes, a trapeze; and they swing and catch each other by the feet. Oh, I love to see them!"
"So do I," said Kitty. "I love it all,—but I love the tigers best."
"You must promise to behave yourselves," said Mrs. Maynard. "Marjorie, I shall put the baby in your especial care, though of course Pompton will look out for you all. And you must all obey him, and do exactly as he tells you."
"There isn't much obeying to do," said King. "We just sit on seats and watch the show, don't we?"
"Oh, we walk around and see the side-shows," said Marjorie.
"Whatever you do," said Mr. Maynard, "stay with Pompton, and do just as he tells you. He is a very intelligent man, and he will take care of you all right, and you must be kind and polite to him. Now scamper along and get ready."
The children were soon ready, and went gaily off with Pompton, waving good-byes to their parents, who stood on the hotel veranda.
They did not go in their own automobile, but in a trolley-car, and the four children seated themselves demurely, side by side, with Pompton at the end, next to Rosy Posy.
The ride was through a pleasant part of town, and on to the outskirts, where they soon came in sight of the circus tents.
Pompton ushered his charges through the entrance, and they found themselves in what seemed like a wilderness of tents, both large and small. As it was not yet time for the performance, they walked round, visiting the side-shows, and looking at the collection of "freaks," which is considered an important part of every circus.
"Mayn't we have some popcorn, Pomp?" asked Marjorie, as they passed a stand where that delectable refreshment was sold.
"Your ma said you were to have that after the show, Miss Marjorie. At least, that's how I understood it." Pompton always took the children's requests very seriously, and only granted them when he could do so conscientiously.
"Oh, she wouldn't care, whether we had it before or after," said King; "but I'll tell you what, Pomp, let's have half now and half after the show."
"Very well, Master King. I don't suppose it does make any great matter.
Will you have pink or white?"
"Both," said Kitty, who was authority on these matters; "and then we'll have pink lemonade."
"But you've just had your luncheon, Miss Kitty."
"That doesn't matter; this is a sort of dessert. And of course if we have popcorn, we must have lemonade. Popcorn is so choky."
So the children had their refreshment, and then it was time to go to see the performance.
Pompton took Rosy Posy in his arms, and the others following, they went into the big tent and were ushered to their places.
Mr. Maynard had told Pompton to take a box, as in the small enclosure it was easier to keep an eye on the children, and make sure they did nothing they ought not to. For the little Maynards were impulsive, and though Pompton was wise and sensible, he was not entirely accustomed to their mischievous ways.
"Isn't this fun!" exclaimed Marjorie, as the usher showed them the small wooden enclosure with six hard chairs in it.
"Perfectly splendid!" agreed Kitty. "And we can have this extra chair for our wraps and things."
So with great content they settled in their places to watch the circus.
It began, as circuses usually do, with the chariot races, and these were Marjorie's especial delight. She had been to the circus several times, and she always enjoyed the classic-looking ladies who drove tumultuous horses, while they stood in gorgeously painted but very rattle-te-bang chariots.
"I should think they'd fall out behind," commented Kitty.
"They would if the horses stopped suddenly," said King.
"No, they wouldn't," said Marjorie. "If the horses stopped, they'd pitch over the dashboard; but the horses aren't going to stop! Oh, there comes the blue one again! Isn't she a dandy? King, I'd love to drive one of those chariots!"
"Don't you try it on now. Miss Marjorie," said Pompton, on hearing this speech.
"Of course, I won't, Pomp," said Marjorie, laughing. "I only said I'd like to. Oh, now that's all over, and they're going to have the ladies and gentlemen who ride tip-toe on their horses. I think I like that next best to the trapeze people."
"I like it all," said contented little Kitty, whose nature it was to take things as they came.
Fascinated, they all watched the bare-back riding, and after that the acrobats, and then the trapeze performers.
"Wow! but they're wonders!" exclaimed King, as the trapezists swayed through the air, and caught flying rings or swings, and seemed every time to escape missing them only by a hairs-breadth. But they always caught them, and swung smilingly back, as if living up in the air were quite as pleasant as walking about on the ground.
"Oh, I'd like to do that!" cried Marjorie, as with sparkling eyes she watched a young girl do a swinging specialty.
King laughed. "You'd like to do lots of these stunts, Midget, but let me advise you if you're ever a circus performer, don't try trapeze work; you're too heavy. When you came down, you'd go smash through the net! If you must be in a circus, you'd better stick to your chariot driving."
"Now the trapeze number is over," said Kitty, looking at her programme, "and next will be the wild animals! I do love to see those."
"And I don't," said Marjorie, with a shudder. It was not exactly fear, but the child had a special aversion to watching the feats of trained wild animals, and had often shut her eyes when such a performance was going on.
The lions and tigers came in and took their places, and Kitty and King watched with interest as they obeyed the trainer's word, and did as he bade them.
But after a little time, Marjorie felt she could stand it no longer.
"Pomp," she said, "I can't bear to look at those animals another minute!
This is the last number, and I'm going out. I'll wait for you right by
the door, just where we came into the tent."
Pompton looked at the child, kindly. Her face was white, and he saw that it really distressed her to watch the wild animals.
"Very well, Miss Marjorie," he said; "it's but a few steps, so go on, if you like, and stay just outside the door until we come. Don't wander away now."
"No, Pompton, I won't wander away, but I must get away from here."
Marjorie left the box, and went quietly out of the door of the tent. It was only a few steps, as their box was very near the entrance.
There was a bench just outside the door, and the little girl sat down upon it, delighted to be away from the sights she did not care for. The fresh air and bright sunshine brought the color back to her cheeks, and she looked around her with interest. There was little to see, for the audience were all inside the great tent, and the performers were either on the stage or in their own dressing rooms. A pleasant-faced attendant spoke to her, and asked where her people were.
"They're inside," answered Marjorie, "they're coming out in a few moments, but I didn't like this act, and I'm going to wait for them here."
"All right, little one; sit there as long as you like. I'll be about here all the time, and if you want anything, you call me. My name's Bill."
"Thank you," said Marjorie, and Bill went off whistling. He was a big, burly young man, with a kind voice and manner, and he seemed to be a hard-working circus hand. He was clearing up the place, and once in a while he glanced at Marjorie, as if to make sure she was all right.
Marjorie sat still on the bench, her thoughts all on the performances she had seen. She wondered if the circus people were like other people, for they seemed to her to be of a different race.
As she was thinking, a young girl came out of a small tent nearby. She had a long cloak wrapped round her, but her gaily-dressed hair with silver stars pinned in it, made Marjorie feel sure she was one of the performers. She had a very pretty face, and she smiled pleasantly at Marjorie, as she said, "What are you doing here, little girl?"
"I'm waiting for my people," said Marjorie. "They're coming out in a minute, but I couldn't stand those fierce animals any longer."
"How funny," said the young lady, and she sat down in the seat beside Marjorie. "Do you know I always shiver when I look at the wild animals, too. I've been with the circus a year, and I can't get used to those lions and tigers. I always think they're going to spring at me, though I know perfectly well they're not. Is that the way you feel?"
"Yes, I feel just like that, and I know it's silly, but I can't help it.
What do you do in the circus?"
The girl partly flung open her long cloak, and disclosed her costume of spangled pink satin.
"I'm one of the trapeze performers; you probably saw me swing this afternoon."
"Oh, are you really one of those swinging ladies? Do tell me about it, won't you? Don't you get dizzy, swinging through the air upside down?"
"No, we never get dizzy; that would never do! Why, we'd fall and break our necks, and I assure you we don't want to do that!"
"Don't you ever fall?"
"Oh, of course accidents have happened, but much more rarely than most people think. Trapeze performers are a very careful lot, and we seldom have an accident."
"Are all those trapeze people your family?" asked Marjorie, for the troupe was billed as one family.
"Many of them are, but not all. I have one sister who is an acrobat. She is really one of the best I ever saw for her age. She's only twelve, and she can do wonderful feats for such a child."
"I'm twelve," said Marjorie, smiling, "but my brother says I'm too fat to do anything like that."
"Yes, you are," and the young lady smiled, showing her even, white teeth. She was a very pretty girl, and had a sweet, refined voice, which surprised Marjorie, as she had not thought circus people were like this.
"You do weigh too much to be very agile; my sister is slender, but very muscular. Would you like to see her? She's right over there in our tent, with Mother."
"Oh, I'd love to see her, but I mustn't go away from here, for I told
Pomp where to find me. He'll be out soon."
"Yes, the performance will be over in about five minutes. But I'd like you to see my sister. Her name is Vivian, and she's so sweet and pretty! But of course if you think you'd better stay here, I don't want to persuade you. I must go back now myself. We're really not allowed out here at this time."
Marjorie wanted very much to go in to the tent with the young lady, and to see the little sister, and she wondered if she could in any way get word to Pompton telling him where she was. Just then Bill came round that way again, and smiled at her.
"Oh, Bill," cried Marjorie, impulsively, "you said if I wanted anything to ask you. Now I want to go into the tent with this lady,—she says I may,—and won't you please go in the big tent, and tell my people where I've gone? You can't miss them, they're in Box number five. An Englishman named Pompton, who is our chauffeur,—and three children with him. Will you, Bill, 'cause I want to see this lady's little sister?"
"Sure, I'll 'tend to it, Miss. They won't let me in myself, but I'll fix it with the doorman, and it'll be all right. Why, bless you, the tent isn't a step away. Run along with Mademoiselle Cora."
"Is that your name? What a pretty name," said Marjorie, and giving
Mademoiselle Cora her hand, the two crossed over to the little tent.