"And I don't do another flip-flap," put in the clown.
"Oh, come, don't talk like that," argued Giles Frozzler. "I'll pay you to-morrow, sure."
"No."
"I'll pay you to-night—just as soon as the performance is over. Just see what a crowd we have—the money is pouring in."
At this the lady bareback rider hesitated, and finally said she would go on. But the clown would not budge.
"I may be a clown in the ring, but not in the dressing room," said he, tartly. "I want my pay, or I don't go on."
"All right then, you can consider yourself discharged," cried Giles
Frozzler.
He had started in the circus business as a clown and thought he could very well fill his employee's place for a day or two. In the meantime he would send to the city for another clown whom he knew was out of a situation.
At last the show began with what Frozzler termed on his handbills the Grand Opening Parade, consisting of the two elephants, two ladies on horseback, two circus hands on horseback, the little bear, who was tame, and several educated dogs. In the meantime the band, consisting of seven pieces, struck up a march which was more noise than harmony.
"Here's your grand circus," whispered Sam. "Beats the Greatest Show on
Earth to bits, doesn't it?"