“OLD PROPS.”
Patty was a veritable daughter of the arena. At a very tender age she had been taught to balance herself on the back of a horse, and when her mother died her education in bareback riding had so far progressed that she was billed as an infant prodigy, and was the source of endless entertainment to the youngsters of every town visited by the circus. Old Props was her guardian, a duty that he had willingly assumed when Patty’s mother died, leaving her daughter to his care. It must be confessed that Patty’s education in the polite arts was sadly neglected. Her grammar was atrocious, and her knowledge of things in general, not germane to the circus, was deplorably slim. But her professional studies were pursued with so much earnestness and avidity that before she was in her teens her daring riding produced a genuine sensation, and the advent of “Mdle. Patti,” as she was known to the public, was always the signal for a burst of applause, to which the young equestrienne responded with one of her most bewitching smiles.
Although fully up to the latest slang phrases, Patty was by no means vicious, and only reflected what she had imbibed, since as a tiny toddler of three she had been lifted on the trick pony’s back by careful Old Props and jogged around the track, her merry eyes ablaze with delight, her baby voice echoing the Hi! Ya! Hi! Ya! of the property boys who clustered around the ring. In spite of her surroundings Patty’s mind was remarkably pure. The coarse jokes of the men and the covert allusions of the women seemed to leave no taint in their wake, while her naive expressions were a constant delight to Old Props, who secretly exulted in the innocence of his protegee and jealously guarded her from the insidious advances of those in whom the baser passions were uppermost.
Patty was sui generis. Of the world beyond the circus she was totally ignorant. If she had a passion it was for gay dresses and stunning jewelry, while the “bravas,” elicited from an admiring audience, was the sweetest music that her ears ever knew. At the age of seventeen she was a strikingly beautiful girl, overflowing with animal spirits and enjoying perfect health, a robust young goddess to whom all the other sawdust subjects paid homage. Hers was a beauty that lacked soul, however. Patty, poor girl, had never known the refining influences of a home and the effect of her environment was potent to the close observer. Love was something foreign to her nature; that is the love born of a tender passion. For Old Props she possessed a strong sense of gratitude and a sort of filial affection, but for the genuine article she seemed to be incapable of its entertainment.
When Patty was eighteen the circus to which she was attached arranged for a tour of the Australian continent, and at San Francisco the “main guy” engaged a lot of fresh talent, some of the old-timers not relishing the salt water voyage. Several of these new performers were adepts in their particular lines, and one was especially so, as Old Props had bitter cause to remember. The circus showed all through New Zealand with remarkable financial success and Patty won unbounded honors from the colonials, and was, besides, the life of the troupe. It was at this period—perhaps the semi-tropical climate was partially responsible for it—that Patty was the recipient of numerous proposals for her hand, both from within and without the circus. But each new suitor was received in much the same manner. A merry laugh spoiled all their sentimental speeches; they were referred to the ringmaster; she excused herself on the plea of practising a new jig-step for the side-show, or with the utmost unconcern declined the offer and went on feeding the monkeys in the menagerie as if nothing unusual had happened to disturb her tranquility. On one occasion when Old Props was leading her horse around the ring while the clown was working the risibilities of the audience she received a most impassioned proposal from one of the balloon holders who was assisting her in her “act” and near whom the horse was halted just as the clown reached the climax of his joke. The offer came during the yelling of the delighted colonials, the sharp snapping of the ring-master’s whip and the eccentric tumbling of the professional joker, but for all that it was a fervid appeal. Yet her sole answer was a derisive laugh as she spurred on her horse with a “Hi! ya,” and the next minute she was jumping, not into her suitor’s arms, but through the paper balloon he held outstretched in his hand.
But Patty’s days of freedom were rapidly diminishing, and before the troupe reached Melbourne Old Props made a discovery that rendered him very uneasy. At San Francisco the management had engaged among others a handsome dashing young Apollo of perhaps twenty-five, who was a perfect prodigy in his way. He was considered the cleverest leaper, the most skillful rider, and the best all-round man in the troupe, and to crown all, he possessed a college education, having, it is said, been graduated at Harvard. His specialty was riding four horses bareback, and owing to his prowess and fine presence he was soon styled the “Adonis of the arena.”
It was not until the circus had unloaded at Auckland, N. Z., and had toured through the middle island that Patty seemed cognizant of the young fellow’s varied attractions, but before long she began to manifest in many ways her approval of his society, much to the dismay of her guardian, who scented trouble from the outset. The young Adonis of the ring was quick to discover the interest he had awakened, and deliberately applied himself to the task of winning Patty’s affections. By a hundred delicate attentions and insinuating ways, such as Patty, poor child, had never known in her previous career, he paved his way into her good graces and aroused in her that feeling which lies latent in the soul of every maiden, but which few would have supposed Patty possessed.
It was to this heartless scamp that Patty unreservedly lost her heart. To the warnings of Old Props, who, better versed in human nature, penetrated her lover’s evil designs, the girl returned an indignant protest, and for a time there was a coolness between the two that grieved the old property man sorely. Those whom Patty had snubbed now began to take a mean revenge by sneeringly alluding to her love affair and hinting that all was not as it should be. Their remarks when made in the hearing of Old Props drove him nearly frantic, and for several weeks he was so ugly and crabbled that he was unbearable and even the main guy was compelled to reprimand him for his surliness. As the affair progressed Patty gradually lost all interest in her former amusements, and even her little pet monkey in the menagerie was wholly neglected. Instead of lingering before his cage to pet and caress him as was her wont, she now hurried by to meet her lover, utterly oblivious of the tiny outstretched paw or head cunningly askew waiting for its accustomed caress. Poor “Mimi,” like Old Props, was forgotten.
That grizzled veteran knew too well how it would end. As the weeks grew into months, and the foreign tour was drawing to a close, Old Props, who watched Patty closer than any mother would her child, saw with poignant regret how changed the girl had become. Seldom was heard the old, mellow, ringing laugh that was wont to cheer his seared and toughened heart, and the former jaunty step and vivacious air had completely vanished. Yet to her guardian, who ached to receive her confidence, Patty never vouchsafed a word.