“I t’ink dat’s a good idee! Lots of us kin do stunts dat goes wid a hippodrome show what can’t be did on a stage in a regerler theayter.”
“Very well, then; Molly, will you sit down at my left hand side where I will place all the circus actors, and the stage performers can go to my right,” said Miss Martin, hastily postponing her other answer.
Molly sat down upon the grass with a satisfied manner—was she not going to be robed in tarletan and tinsel some day and leap gracefully from an Arabian horse’s back, then throw kisses at an admiring audience? That is how Molly pictured herself.
“Bill, what do you propose doing?” asked the investigator of the theatrical company.
“Well, I kin do lots of stunts, but best of all I kin blow my horn. I will like to stay in de band wedder you’se have it for the theayter or fer de circus.”
“All right, Bill, then I’ll enter you as cornetist. But you must practice and render a solo every now and then for a prize, you know?”
“Yes’m, I knows!”
Bill’s name was entered and he signed himself as a solo-cornetist in the company. As he was about to place the pen back on the table he had a brilliant idea.
“Miss Marting, why can’t I enter Crummie fer a show?”
“Ah yes, Miss Martin—Crummie is a swell show-dog! He does lots of tricks what oughter be known by a real circus man; he would get paid a lot of money fer ’em,” added several voices back of Bill.