It would have been strange had he not had a hankering for a tent show, for the son of Madame Hortense, one of the greatest circus riders of her day, ought to have something of a liking for that strange life.
“I wonder if, by any chance, I’d meet some one who used to know my mother,” mused Joe, as he walked onward. “It isn’t so very many years ago that she was with a show, and there might be some old-time performers who would know her. But it’s hardly likely, though possible. Of course my father, having been mostly in theatre shows, wouldn’t be so apt to know circus people. Say, it almost makes me want to be with ’em!” Joe murmured enthusiastically, as he came in sight of the circus lots on which lively scenes were being enacted.
Men were running about, straightening out the big folds of canvas, lacing up the parts of the big tent preparatory to raising it, for the “main top” comes in several sections for easier transportation.
Gay banners were fluttering from the animal tent, already up, and from the one where the performers were to eat and dress.
Breakfast had already been served to the now busy workers; and from the wagons, on which were the big stoves, there arose appetizing odors, as a second meal was being gotten ready—a breakfast for the performers who did not have to get up as early as did the laborers. Most of the circus stuff had been brought from the railroad trains, and was on the grounds.
“I don’t see how they ever straighten things out,” mused Joe. But somehow it was done. Every one had a certain part to perform. And while one gang of men were putting up the tents, others were feeding the horses and other animals, and those in charge of the parade were getting that ready to march through the streets in order to entice the small boy and his parent to come to the show.
Joe strolled past the place where, outside one of the performers’ tents, men were pasting paper on the hoops through which the riders would leap later. He did not stop to peer in at the animals, though many small boys were feasting their eyes on such glimpses of the sights as they could see. Joe did not care much for this.
“I wish I could see some of the trapeze and high wire fellows at practice,” he mused. “I might pick up a few stunts myself.”
Joe passed a place where some of the performers’ trunks had been heaped up in readiness to be taken into the dressing tents. Near them stood a tall, slim, young fellow, of about Joe’s age. He did not seem very muscular, and he was tugging away at a heavy trunk, which he could not move.
“Shan’t I give you a hand?” asked Joe pleasantly. “That looks pretty heavy.”