In later years I have stood sponsor for many of the shows and small circuses that visited Singapore. One I well remember belonged to an old friend, A. Bert Wilison of Sydney, Australia, who had been with the advance at the time I was with R. W. Fryer's Circus. He came with his show from Calcutta in pawn, that is to say, he paid as much as he had and the steamship company took a lien on his show or chattels, and if the agent at the port of disembarkment was satisfied, he could put up his tent and show, the steamship agent taking the receipts with interest until the freight and passage money was collected. I happened to be in Singapore at the time and was told a circus had just arrived from Calcutta—"Bert Wilison's African Circus and Equine Paradox." I was wondering who's it could be, as I had never heard of my old friend's rise to proprietor of a show.
I made up my mind to see him, if not for business then as an old showman, never dreaming I was to meet an old friend. The surprise and pleasure was mutual at our meeting, after an absence of nearly fourteen years. The last time we were together was in Buenos Ayres. As I was dressed in an old suit of khaki, I looked to him as if I were stranded. "Well, Charley," he said, "I'm broke, too, but I'll manage to fix you somehow and get you out of here. You come with me, old boy, we'll share what's left of the old show."
I thanked him and said that I was not as badly off as I appeared, but had been in the animal business for a number of years, was settled and pretty well known in Singapore, and if I could be of assistance to him, it was his for the asking.
"Well, Mayer, to tell the truth, I'm in hock with the steamship people. I have not enough to pay for the hauling of my stuff or feed for the horses, let alone to put my wife and child at a decent hotel."
I assured him I would see him through. There were tears in his eyes as he grasped my hand. I went with him to the agent of the British India Company and arranged for the payment of his passage and freight, in fact took care of everything for him. It made me feel good to be again in touch with the old show business; once in it, one never forgets its glamor. I arranged for the lot and feed for the horses, but the performers paid their own hotel expenses. We had still to look for the labor, so I hired coolies, and by night had the top up. At the same time there was a stranded balloonist whom I was befriending, an American named Price, who went broke in India. He had his balloon, which wanted but a little repairing, so I made arrangements with Wilison for Price to join the show and give ascensions and parachute jumps for an attraction.
Well, the show opened and made good. The balloon ascension was something new and it went big, especially when the balloon was anchored and would take people up. Wilison played Singapore two weeks, paid all his debts and was on his feet. I advised him to play Bangkok, and, if possible, get a guarantee from Prince Damvony to show inside the palace, which he did with success. The only thing that marred the career of the show was when Price went up in the balloon and took a parachute jump, he drifted down into the King's household, that is, the women's pavilion, and caused an awful uproar among the inmates. He had to do a lot of explaining to convince the officials that it was no fault of his, that it was unavoidable, as the wind carried him there. I leave my readers to imagine, if they can, the fright and feeling of the women on seeing a man, a European, dressed in tights, dropping amongst them from the skies. It was weeks before the scare wore off, and it was spoken of for years after. The last I heard of Wilison was in Japan, when he intended to go from there to Hawaii and then to Australia.
As the steamer having the Wilison show aboard left the docks, the old fascination of show life seemed to grip me. It brought back wonderful memories of the good old days when one-ring circuses were the real thing. I look back on those days with regret, days when I was the head or Boss Property Man, for next to the Proprietor the Boss Property Man was king of the dressing-tents, and woe to the performer who slighted him. When the Show would make its first start on the road, the Boss Property Man would place the performers' trunks in position. Pay day, the performer who neglected to give his fifty cents or dollar to the Boss Property Man, would find his trunk badly damaged, broken open or no trunk at all on arrival at the next town. It was a custom that few ventured to neglect, for otherwise they might suffer the loss of their wardrobe or part of it, and probably their trunk, and ran the risk of being fired by the management for failure to be ready for their act.
One case in particular I remember when I was with the R. W. Fryer's Shows as Boss Property Man and transportation master. While the Show was still in Sydney, N.S.W., and a week before ending our eight weeks' stay, I told one of the performers, the bearer of a brother act, that is the man that holds the other man on his shoulders and catches him as he jumps or turns somersaults, to get a new trunk as he had an old tin-covered one that had the edges all worn and broken, and every time any of my men handled it they were sure to have their hands or clothes cut and torn. He promised to get one in Melbourne. We played Melbourne eight weeks and went from there to Ballarat, Victoria. He still failed to get a new trunk, and when the Show appeared in Ballarat, his trunk was amongst the missing, dropped or fallen off the train en route during the night. He was fired, and a day or so after got notice from the Government Railroad to come and get some of his belongings that had been picked up along the line. He got a new trunk.
Another character with the same Show was the Musical Clown, named Shilleto, a really good fellow, but seldom sober. I honestly believe that if he were sober he could not do his act. He was a natural born musician. He could play any instrument and play it well.
On arriving at any town, as a joke we would pick some one who had a local reputation as a ne'er-do-well and explain to him Shilleto's weakness, flattery and whiskey, telling him to go up to Shilleto and say, "I beg your pardon, but are you not Shilleto, the great Musical Clown, now with Fryer's American Show. I have seen you a number of times in different parts of Europe but never expected to have the pleasure of seeing you in Australia. You are the greatest I ever saw. Will you allow me to shake hands with you." Shilleto never had been in Europe, although it was his boast that he had traveled all over that continent with shows.