Phil’s companion surveyed him with admiration.
“My, but you did cut a figure up on that elephant’s head! I should have been afraid.”
“There was nothing to be afraid of. But let’s watch the performance. There’s a trapeze act going on now.”
For a few moments the lads watched the graceful bodies of the performers slipping through the air. One would swing out from his perch, flying straight into the arms of his fellow-performer who was hanging head down from another swinging bar. On the return sweep the first performer would catch his own bar and return to his perch.
“Looks easy. I’ll bet I could do that,” nodded Teddy.
Phil shook his head.
“Not so easy as it looks.”
“How much do you suppose they get—think they must get as much as a dollar and a half a day for doing that? I’d do it for a dollar, if I could,” averred the irrepressible Teddy Tucker.
“They get a good many more dollars than that, Teddy. I’ve heard that some of them get all of twenty-five or thirty dollars a week.”
Phil’s companion whistled.