“We’ll get our crowd all together,” said Alf, “and have a little cheering to waken things up a bit. Come on.”
So they made their way into the tent, which was already half filled, and chose seats in an unoccupied section. Then:
“Yardley, this way!” was the cry. “Yardley, this way!”
Yardley responded quickly and in two minutes that section of the stand was filled with some two hundred youths.
“Now, fellows,” announced Alf, who had constituted himself Master of Ceremonies, “let’s give a cheer for the elephant!”
They gave it; and followed up with one for the tiger; and followed that up with one for the monkeys.
“And now, fellows,” Alf cried gleefully, “let’s have one for Broadwood!”
So they cheered Broadwood—after the monkeys—amidst much laughter from their own section and the adjoining ones. No laughter, however, came from the stand across the tent where Broadwood was concentrating her forces. A minute afterwards Broadwood accepted the challenge and began cheering, following the cheers with football songs. And in the midst of that there was a blare of music from the red-coated band and the grand procession appeared. Yardley applauded mightily and cheered everything and everybody that passed. And then comparative quiet returned and the exhibitions in the rings began.
It wasn’t a very large circus, but it was a good one, and the fellows enjoyed it all hugely. When the trick donkey appeared with the leading clown seated on his back belaboring him with a bladder on the end of a stick Paul Rand made the hit of the afternoon by bawling loudly;
“Whoa, Broadwood!”