This entrance was guarded by a wooden stile, from which a narrow canvas-covered passage led to the inner door. At the stile tickets were sold, and these were in turn taken up by the collector at the end of the passage which opened directly into the tent.
“Speaking of crowds! Was ever such another one as this!” gasped Melvin Cook, as he found himself in the swirl of persons seeming to move in two directions, as, indeed, they were. Then he looked around for his friends and to his consternation saw Molly Breckenridge tossed to and fro in a hopeless effort to extricate herself, and that she held one of the twins by hand, till suddenly the child fell beneath the very feet of the crowding adults.
“My baby! Oh! O-oh!” screamed Molly, and an instant’s halt followed, but the jam was to be immediately resumed.
Fortunately, however, that instant had been sufficient for tall Jim Barlow to stoop and lift the child on high.
“Hang on to me, Molly! I’ll kick and jam a way through. ’Twill be over in a minute, soon’s we get to the inside and have—you—got—your ticket?”
“Ye-e-es! But—but—I’ll never come to a circus—again—never—never——”
“You haven’t got to this one yet,” returned Jim, breathlessly. Then he discovered Mr. Winters standing inside the tent, and extending his arms to receive the uplifted little one which Jim at once tossed forward like a ball.
At last they were all inside. The Master had been more fortunate in piloting his especial charges, Luna and Sapphira, through that struggling mob; but it was in a tone of deep disgust that he now exclaimed:
“Oh! the selfishness of human nature! A moment’s delay, a touch of courtesy, and such scenes would be avoided. The struggle for ‘first place,’ to better one’s self at the expense of one’s neighbor, is an ugly thing to witness.”