My assembled “cabinet” rolled their eyes in astonishment.
“Father, are you crazy?” asked Hurd, with a look of despair.
“Not much,” I replied.
“Now,” I continued, “I see the show is too big to drag from village to village by horse power, and I have long suspected it would be, and have laid my plans accordingly. I will immediately telegraph to all the principal railroad centres between here and Omaha, Nebraska, and within five days I will tell you what it will cost to transport my whole show, taking leaps of a hundred miles or more in a single night when necessary, so as to hit good-sized towns every day in the season. If I can do this with sixty or seventy freight cars, six passenger cars and three engines, within such a figure as I think it ought to be done for, I will do it.”
The “cabinet” adjourned for five days, and it was worth something to see how astonished, and apparently pleased, the various members looked as they withdrew.
At the appointed time all met again. The railroad telegrams were generally favorable, and we, then and there, resolved to transport the entire Museum, Menagerie and Hippodrome, all of the coming season, by rail, enlisting a power which, if expended on traversing common wagon roads, would be equivalent to two thousand men and horses.
If life and health are spared me till another spring, I will report the result of thus setting on foot a mighty “army with banners.” But if it is wisely appointed that some other hand shall record it, I confidently trust that the American public will bear witness that I found great pleasure in contributing to their rational enjoyment.
P T B