“This.” And he held up the paper-covered hoop.
The ring-master couldn't see how that put the clown in mind of his mother. He was awful dumb, that man.
“It looks just like the pancakes she used to make for us.”
Well, sir, we just hollered and laughed at that. And after we had quieted down a little, the ringmaster says: “As big as that?”
“Bigger,” says the clown. “Why, she used to make 'em so big we used 'em for bedclothes.”
“Indeed” (Just like that. He took it all in, just as if it was so.)
“Oh, my, yes! I mind one time I was sleeping with my little brother, and I waked up just as cold—Brr! But I was cold!”
“But how could that be, sir? You just now said you had pancakes for bedclothes.”
“Yes, but my little brother got hungry in the night, and et up all the cover.”
Laugh? Why, they screamed. Me? I thought I'd just about go up. But the ring master never cracked a smile. He didn't see the joke at all.