A FULL-FLEDGED ACROBAT
The circus manager sat in a chair at the edge of a little sawdust ring that had been marked out for the occasion. The ringmaster stood near him, in charge of the ceremonies.
"Now, then, my friends," observed this individual in a sharp, snappy way, "you people want a chance to get on as performers. That's good. We are always looking for fresh talent. Show your paces. Who's first?"
A big, loutish fellow with an ungainly walk stepped forward. He was wrapped up in a tarpaulin. As he let it drop it was like a transformation scene.
It seemed that some of the mischievous candy peddlers had got hold of him. They had induced him to appear for trial in costume.
He wore a pair of tights three sizes too small for him. They had powdered his hair with fine sawdust and daubed his face with chalk and dyes. They had stuffed out his stockings until his calves resembled sticks of knotted wood.
The manager nearly fell over in his chair with repressed laughter. The audience was one vast chuckle.
"Well, sir," spoke up the ringmaster, with difficulty keeping a straight face, "what can you do?"
"I'd like to be a clown," grinned the victim.
"A clown, sir. Good. Let's see you act."