Is pacing it up and down;
And the elephants trudge as they trudged of yore,
With the shabby shebangs, and the steeds galore;
But the glee of the youngsters who shout and roar
At the tricks of the painted clown
Is balm to my soul, and I call encore
To the frowsy old jokes I’ve heard before,
When the circus came to town.
HIS FATHER
We meet him first in frills immersed,