Gudel nodded, then called Fanfar.
"To work, my lad," he cried. "We must stir up these excellent people in this village. Schwann, where is my permit from the mayor?"
Schwann hurried in wiping his hands, and from under a pile of plates he drew out a paper.
"Fanfar, sign it for me, your hand is better than mine, for the truth is I never learned to write. And now this is done, we must go forth and warn the people of the great pleasure in store for them."
CHAPTER XIV.
TWO PLACES, S. V. P.
In five minutes all the population of Saint Amé was on the Square, for in these Lorraine villages amusements are rare. They were watching the erection of an enormous shed covered with canvas and strange pictures. An enormous handbill with letters that could be read a hundred feet off, bore most astonishing inscriptions. At the top was Iron Jaws, who held enormous weights with his teeth. The Giantess, who ate raw pigeons, or any other fowl that was most convenient. The wonderful Almanzor (that was Robeccal,) a descendant of the Moors of Spain, crushed glass with his teeth and swallowed swords. Then there was Caillette, the rope-dancer, who charmed the world with her voice, as well as with her aerial lightness. And lastly, in letters of the same length as those which Gudel used for himself, came Fanfar's name.
"FANFAR! FANFAR! FANFAR!
"Strength, Skill, Dexterity.
"He knows everything. He can do everything!"