Underneath this startling statement, in no less emphatic letters, appeared the following:
ON EXHIBITION:
The Strongest Man in the World
The Handsomest Woman in the World
The Prettiest Girl in the World
The Smartest Boy in the World
The surprising nature of these signs began to draw a crowd almost at once—even before breakfast. The early comers were mostly boys, and Bobby and Fred were not yet ready to admit the curious.
The chums kept perfectly serious faces and refused to answer any of the questions, or respond much to the raillery of their young friends.
"You know that ain't so, Bobby Blake!" exclaimed one boy. "You can't have all those people in that tent. And where'd you get them? Huh! 'Strongest man in the world.' Who's that? Sandow, or John L. Sullivan? Bet you jest got a picture of Samson throwin' down the pillars."
"That's what it is—just pictures!" agreed the other curious ones.
Fred grinned at them and was—wonderful to relate!—as silent as his chum. They had agreed to say nothing in response to the chaffing.
"And who was the handsomest woman in the world?" scoffed another boy, who was rather better informed than most of his mates. "Cleopatra, maybe! And she was blacker than our Phoebe who washes for my mother. All Egyptians are black."
"I'd just like to know who you think is the prettiest girl, Bobby Blake?" demanded one of the bigger girls who went to school with the chums, her nose tip tilted to show her scorn. "What do you know about pretty girls?"
"If you want to see her, you can do so by paying your penny by and by," said Bobby politely.