“You ain’t got no circus,” says Bosco. “I seen this aggregation when she was at her best and she wasn’t worth a whoop.”
Magpie nods and considers Alcibiades.
“What good was that elephant? He didn’t travel on his looks, did he?”
“Him? Naw! They used to give him soft rubber balls to throw into the audience—if there was any audience. Oswald never played to capacity.”
Magpie picked up a stone about as big as his fist and walked over to the elephant. He held out the stone and Alcibiades took it. He seems to sort of take a good hold with his trunk and then swings it back and forth, like he was weighing it. Then he whirls his trunk up and sideways, lets out a little grunt and away went that rock.
Crash!
It bored right into the eaves of “Old Testament” Tilton’s shack about fifty yards away. We hears the crash and a moment later here comes Old Testament out of the door.
He’s got his hands folded and we can see his lips moving. Over one ear is a lump the size of a egg.
“Howdy, parson,” says Magpie, but Old Testament don’t hear nor see us. As he walks past us we hears him singing soft and low—
“Rockavages clef’—rockavages cl’—Rockavages——”