Jack found the head clown eating his early supper in the big dining-tent.
“Sit down and eat with me,” invited Mr. Kyle, when Ike had related the result of the runaway’s trial. “I don’t like to cut up capers on a full stomach,” he went on, “so I eat early. Well, I hear you made good.”
“Mr. Paine seemed to like what I did, though I don’t know that it was very funny,” replied Jack modestly.
“It’s not so easy to make people laugh,” spoke the old clown. “I’ve known elaborate acts to fall as flat as a pancake, and, again, some simple little thing would bring roars of laughter. It all depends on how it’s done. I’ve been at it forty years, and I’ve still got things to learn.”
“Do you think it’s a good thing to have a specialty?” asked Jack, as he began to eat of the plain but wholesome food which a waiter set before him.
“The best thing in the world. My specialty is taking the part of animals, and I may say I’ve been quite successful. If you can get up a novel act, something that’s up-to-date, and which will hit the popular fancy, you’re all right.”
Mr. Kyle spoke quite seriously, and it seemed rather odd to see him thus, when Jack remembered what a queer figure he had presented while in the ring, attired as a big rooster.
“I was thinking of getting up some special act,” said Jack.
“What was it?” asked Sam quickly. “You want to be careful of one thing,” he went on. “Don’t try to imitate any of the other clowns. If you do they’ll get down on you. Besides, one act of a kind is enough. What were you thinking of trying?”
“I thought some stunt that had to do with a flying machine wouldn’t be bad,” replied Jack. “You know there’s so much of that going on now that the public is interested. I might get up something to look like an airship, pretend to fly in it, and come tumbling down. Do you think that would take?”