Meantime Clown was growing tired of his popularity. The fame, the applause of the friendly public, the pleasure he felt in knowing that Reine and her father were doing a fine business, the liberty he enjoyed, the honors paid him daily, all these worldly vanities flattered his pride, but neither success nor his pleasant relations with the members of the troupe could make him happy.
He was always longing for his dear mistress Bertha. Often in the night, overtaken by a horrible nightmare, he would wake with a start, not knowing where he was. Like many other artists, comic on the stage, he was silent and gloomy away from it.
After three big performances, given one after the other, without counting rehearsals, some of the most important members of the menagerie became ill, owing to the heat and their hard work. It was the animals who suffered most. For two days Sultan, whose appetite was usually hard to satisfy, had refused his food—a thing hitherto unheard-of.
One of the white bears complained of terrible colic; the llamas sneezed continually; Hercules, the giant elephant, with trunk rolled up like a snail, could hardly stand upright; a giraffe trumpeted; the hippopotamus, "Poivro," stung by mosquitoes, scratched himself till his cage shook. From the hyena-cage came forth dismal howls; two of the poor creatures, down with toothache, were rolling about in agony. Several horses, a zebra, and a rooster all felt very far from well.
The truth was the whole troupe was worn out. The manager, too, felt that a rest was absolutely necessary for all of them. Everybody agreed that the director should announce to the public, giving any reason he chose, that for the next forty-eight hours there would be no performances.
No one was allowed even to visit the menagerie. It was only after much delay and because he begged so hard that one stranger was admitted. This was a reporter from one of the important Paris newspapers, who, having heard by the many-tongued mouth of rumor of the queer tricks of Dog-Clown, was most anxious to see the dog for himself, and if possible to learn all about him, for he wanted his paper to be the first to tell the people of Paris the true story of this wonderful dog.