Nixie, who also could do things on the trapeze, and who was an aspiring (and at times almost an expiring) clothes-line walker.
Fat, who could wiggle his ears.
Snoopie, indefatigable, marvelous, a genius of one suspender, whom a special providence seemed to have endowed.
Menagerie (in prospect): Don, your dog; Snap, the Kemps’ dog; Lunt’s cat; Fat’s white rats; Hen’s “bantie” rooster.
A rehearsal was not only unnecessary, but impracticable as well; that is, a rehearsal in company. However, individual practice went on daily, and not a member of the troupe but emulated the most daring feats produced under Barnum’s tent, as could be testified to by the most casual observer, and by that emergency Band of Mercy, the Sisterhood of Mothers, adepts with court-plaster and needle.
“Oh, John!” sighed your own mother. “How do you manage to tear your pants so! This is the third time, and in the very same place! Can’t you be careful?”
“I’m practisin’ splits,” you offered.
“‘Splits’?” repeated mother, densely ignorant.