Thus it was that when the clown came tumbling into the ring to the blaring of the band that night, a girl with the green bow all askew upon her hat and her violet-blue eyes a shade darker and snapping with excitement was perched on one of the front row planks which served as seats, clutching a bag of peanuts and waiting in an ecstasy for the wonders about to be unfolded.
The ride in the pedler’s van, the hours of currant-picking, and the hot, hilly, eight-mile trudge were forgotten, and she felt like pinching herself to see if she would wake up all of 64a sudden to find herself once more back in the attic at the Hess farm.
The beautiful lady with the fluffy skirts rode round the ring on tiptoe and jumped through the flaming hoops at the behest of the gentleman with the high silk hat and the long whip; the other lady “without any skirt to her” flew dizzily through the air from one trapeze to the other, and the performing elephant went through his time-worn tricks with the air of a resigned philosopher, and still Lou sat entranced.
Then the dingy curtains parted, and a man loped easily into the ring on a wiry, little Western horse. He was the same man she had seen in the poster that afternoon; the one with the funny pants and the big hat and the red handkerchief knotted around his throat, and he proceeded to do marvelous things.
It is highly probable that many a better exhibition of rough-riding had been given beneath the big top, but to Lou, as to the villagers surrounding her in densely packed rows, it was a supreme display of horsemanship, and they expressed themselves with 65vociferous applause when he uncoiled a rope from the peak of his saddle and dexterously brought down the bewildered steer which had been chivvied into the ring.
In the row directly in front of Lou sat a quartet who were obviously out of place among their bucolic neighbors, but as obviously bent on amusing themselves. The ladies of the party wore brilliant sweaters beneath their long silk motor coats, and veils floated from their small round hats, and the gentlemen wore long coats, too, and had goggles pushed up on their caps.
Bits of their chatter, and low-voiced, well-bred laughter drifted back to the girl’s ears between pauses in the louder comments of her immediate neighbors and the intermittent din of the band, and Lou was amazed.
Could it be that they were laughing at this glorious, wonderful thing that was called a “circus?” Were they ridiculing it, trying to pretend that they had seen anything more marvelous in all the world?
They didn’t laugh at the rough-rider, she noticed. The ladies applauded daintily, and 66once the stouter of the two gentlemen called out: “Good work!” as the rider executed a seemingly daring feat, and the other gentleman consulted his flimsy play bill.
Then all thought of the four was banished from Lou’s mind, for the rider had cantered from the ring and dropped a large white handkerchief upon the sawdust of the outer circle just before her. Wasn’t that bit of color in a corner of a handkerchief an American flag? Jim had told her that he was to do some work outside for the circus people that night, and the boss had kindly offered her a seat, but that handkerchief─