Jack found there was nothing special for him to do until the street parade was ready to start. This had been omitted in the town they had just left, as the place was not considered important enough for such a demonstration. Here, however, one was to be given, and Jack learned that all the clowns were to ride on top of a big gilded wagon, each one playing some grotesque musical instrument.
“But I can’t play anything but a mouth organ,” the boy had objected to Sam, who told him what was expected of him.
“That doesn’t make any difference. We only make all the noise we can on battered horns, broken drums and all the odd things the property man can get together. I’ll give you a trumpet. All you’ll have to do is to blow it as loud as you can.”
Jack thought this would be easy enough, and he soon retired to the dressing-tent to make-up for the street parade. The big wagon on which the clowns were to ride was hauled by eight prancing horses, and when Jack saw it, and knew he was to be on it, he felt a sense of pride that he had so soon been able to make a place for himself in such a big aggregation as a circus.
“All clowns this way!” cried Sam Kyle as he came from the dressing-tent. “Here are your instruments.”
The funnily-attired and painted men, including our hero, gathered around their leader, who handed out such a collection of noise-producing apparatus as was seldom seen. Each one had once been a musical instrument, but time and accident, in some cases purposely done, had changed the character of them. Now they produced nothing but discordant sounds.
“All ready!” called Sam. “Get up!”
The clowns began to ascend to the top of the high wagon, which was fitted with cross-seats.
“Come! come! Hurry up!” cried Mr. Paine, running up to the clowns’ wagon. “The parade ought to have started an hour ago.”
“We’re all ready,” replied Sam.