It was not all joy, apparently, to be transformed into a circus animal, but “anything for Y. W. and a little fun”, as the girls said. It was just as well that all the cages were labeled.
A semicircle of seats, in two tiers, had been made of boards nailed to boxes, somewhat insecurely, it seemed to the ladies as they climbed upon them. “I can’t tell which is more amusing,” said the professor’s wife to Miss Randolph, “audience or performers.” She waved her hand as she spoke at a row of supposed small boys on the front circle. They sat with open mouths, or passed sacks of peanuts and popcorn to each other.
“The girls are pretty good at this,” replied the principal. “Those two clowns coming out are Collegiate Seniors, Maxine Burton and Gertrude Mather.”
“Now, Titus,” said clown number one pompously, as he placed his hand upon a large wooden box in the center of the sawdust ring, “do you see this incubator?”
“Yes, suh,” replied clown number two, hideous with red and white paint and a clown’s suit much beruffled and gathered.
“And the egg that I now put in?”
“Yes, suh.”
“In exactly two minutes after I turn the crank, the whole process is complete and the chicken will appear. This incubator is the greatest invention of the age,—by Thomas Edison, ladies and gentlemen!”
Faint jeers and one quickly suppressed call of “chestnuts” came from the front row; but the ringmaster started in the direction of the “small boys” and the disturbance subsided.
“Br-rr-rr! Br-rr-rr!”