“Come ahead fast,” he ordered, imperiously. “Must be an awful lot to see around that show.”
In a short time the two turned a corner where they came in sight, far ahead, of a group of dull gray tents and tarpaulin-covered wagons.
On the lot the two boys found, despite the early hour, a scene of great activity. Stock was being watered or fed, while performers and other employees crowded the men’s tent. Huge wagons cast blurred shadows over the ground. One lone chariot, left outside to whet the appetite of the curious, stood before the main entrance. Its gilt ornamentation, of wondrous curves and twists, framed a painting in which the artist had allowed his fervid imagination full sway. A hunter, in the African wilds, lay in the midst of tall, tangled grass with the paws of a gigantic lion planted on his breast. The animal’s mouth, astonishingly wide open, revealed a row of glistening teeth.
“That artist was certainly great on the dental work,” pronounced Victor.
To another school of art, according to Dave, belonged several huge canvases which flanked the main entrance. These were painted with a bolder, broader touch, and represented “Adolphus,” the world-renowned boy giant, “Zingar,” the celebrated dwarf, “Monsieur Ormond de Sylveste,” wizard of bareback riders, in his speed-defying and world-stupefying exhibition, “Tobanus,” the apparently jointless wonder, a contortionist and sword swallower, and, lastly, “Colossus,” “Titan,” and “Nero,” the three great African elephants whose stupendous feats had amazed the whole civilized world.
“Some show, this,” laughed Victor, his eyes roaming over the scene with great interest.
They crossed the lot, peeped into the mess tent, then wandered from place to place, sometimes walking in the shadow of monster wagons or long trucks whose heavy wheels were often sunk deep in the turf.
“Looks as if Spudger’s was here for life,” commented Victor.
“And yet the circus will probably leave to-night,” said Dave. “A strenuous life, indeed—positively makes me weary even to think of it. Oh ho! Come on, Vic.”
A nice, comfortable-looking stump a few yards away had attracted the historian’s attention. Its call was altogether too strong to be resisted. Unheeding the loud expostulations of Victor, he walked over, and, with a sigh of satisfaction, seated himself upon it.