I've read an awful lot of tales
About those lovely folks,
The Brownies, and their funny ways,
Their jolly larks and jokes.
But now I sort of wish some one
Would take his pen and see
If he could not write something up
'Bout Blueys once for me.
Or possibly some man could write
Of Greenies and their tricks;
Of Pinkies, Reddies, Mauvies, or
Of all a lovely mix.
It isn't that I've ceased to love
The Brownies—they entrance—
But seems to me some other hue
Had ought to have a chance.
Gaston V. Drake.
[THE IMP OF THE TELEPHONE.]
BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS.
V.—THE CIRCUS.
The pictures that now followed one another across the canvas were better than any circus Jimmieboy ever went to, for the reason that it was entirely a water circus in which were the finest imaginable sea-monsters doing all sorts of marvellous things; and then, too, the book the Imp had turned on evidently had some reading matter in it, for as the pictures passed before the little fellow's eyes he could hear verses describing what was going on, repeating themselves from a shelf directly back of him.
First of all in the circus was the grand parade. A great big gilded band-wagon drawn by gayly caparisoned Sea-Horses went first, and then Jimmieboy could judge how much better electric circus books were than those he had in his nursery, for this book was able to do what his had never done—it furnished music to go with the band—and such music as it was! It had all the pleasant features of the hand-organ; was as soft and sweet in parts as the music-box in the white-and-gold parlor, and once in a while would play deliciously out of tune like a real circus band. After the band-wagon there followed the most amusing things that Jimmieboy ever saw, the Trick Oysters, twelve in number, and all on foot. Next came the mounted Scallops, riding ten abreast on superbly groomed Turtles, holding the bridle of each of which walked Lobsters dressed as Clowns. Then came the menagerie, with great Sea-Lions swimming in tanks on wheels; marine Giraffes standing up to their necks in water forty feet deep; four-legged Whales, like the Oysters, on foot, and hundreds of other queer fish, all doing things Jimmieboy had never supposed they could do.
When the parade was over a great circus ring showed itself upon the canvas, and as strains of lovely music came from the left of the tent the book on the shelf began to recite:
"The Codfish walks around,
The Bass begins to sing;
The Whitebait 'round the Terrapin's cage
Would better get out of the ring.
The Gudgeon is the fish
That goes to all the shows,
He swims up to the Teredos
And tweaks him by the nose."
"That Gudgeon must have been a sort of Van Amberg," thought Jimmieboy. "He did brave things like that."