There was a glamour about the circus at night that was absent in the daytime. Under the flickering gasolene torches the dingiest suit looked fine, and the spangles sparkled as they never would in the sun.
The band struck up a lively air. Once more the procession of performers and animals paraded around the big tent. Jack felt his heart beating loudly. So far he only saw the bright side of the circus life. It was all gaiety and excitement to him now. But he was soon to know the other and darker side.
“We’ll go on in a minute, now,” said Sam Kyle to Jack. “You certainly know how to make up well. Lots of clowns take a year to learn that.”
Mr. Kyle was adjusting a long black patch over one eye, making his appearance more grotesque than before. Suddenly the band stopped playing. The last of the procession, having finished the circuit, wound out of the ring. Then came a blare of trumpets.
“Come on!” cried Sam, and he ran from the dressing-tent into the big canvas-covered arena, where the performance had started. Other clowns followed him, and a score of additional performers—acrobats, tumblers and tight-rope walkers—ran out. Jack followed more slowly. This was to be the real test. He wondered how he would succeed.
He decided he would repeat the same thing he had done for the manager that afternoon. He had secured several of the paper-covered hoops, and he resolved to give as odd an imitation of a man trying to fly as possible.
Once he had passed beyond the canvas curtain that shut off the dressing-tent from the main one, Jack beheld a scene that he long remembered. In the light of the big gasolene torches, high up on the tent poles, he saw many performers going through their acts. There came to his nostrils the smell of freshly-turned earth that formed the ring banks, the damp sawdust, the odor of wild animals, the stifling whiff of gasolene. He heard the music of the band, the shouts of the ringmasters, the high, shrill laughter of the clowns. And he heard other sounds. They were the merry shouts and applause of the big audience.
For there was a large throng present. Jack looked about on the sloping banks of people. Their faces showed curiously white and their eyes oddly black in the brilliant lights. Jack’s mind was in a whirl.
But he was suddenly roused from his daze by a sharp voice calling to him.
“Say, what’s the matter with you? Going to stand there all day? What are you paid for? Get busy! Do something!”