THE OLD GRAFTER’S LAMENT.
The Old Grafter had corns on his knuckles from holding greenbacks between his fingers.
He looked a trifle seedy about the costume, but his moustache was waxed—the moustache, too, was dyed and you saw the reason when he took his hat off. The Old Grafter wore a celluloid collar and a polka dotted dickey, and when his vest was opened it showed up the shyness of his linen.
The Concert Manager was springing gossip about the principal clown who was having trouble with his wife who did the iron jaw swing. He saw the Old Grafter coming across the ring and he stopped, for it was pretty well known that old-timer wouldn’t stand for scandal. The Old Grafter bit off enough tobacco from the canvasman’s plug to make a comfortable quid and then sat down on the snake box. He was looking sad and there was silence. Presently he sent a splash of juice up against the center pole and after shifting the quid he opened up.
“Say fellers, I’ve been cuttin’ the cards since John Robinson had money in tent shows an’ I’ve come to the verdict, it’s this—when you’ve got the green in your pocket an’ the suckers is tipped off they’ll crowd you as thick as flies on the popcorn pile, but when there ain’t no coin to jingle you kin get so lonesome that you’ll go to bed with a hot water bot’l for company.”
This bit of wisdom impressed the gang, for no one spoke, and the Old Grafter threw his reversing bar and chinned out this—
“The old days is gone an’ they’s left the circus graft on a weedy sidin’ with no roun’ trips back to the lan’ of promise. Them was the one ring days an’ in them times there was allus fodder for the hogs. Today it’s one ring, two rings, three rings and a stage—the biggest tent on earth, but for the grafter—nothin’, nothin’. Me, what use to turn the shank of the week with a bigger wad than the principal bareback gets, me makes today a dirty twenty on percentage an’ sellin’ reserved seats. I’m ashamed to look the old days in the face. Why say in them days many a time the proprietor of the Big Show was touchin’ the grafter for cash when business was bad an’ today so diff’rent, so diff’rent—if I gets into a poker play on the train an’ the ante’s a nickel I’ve got to reach twice to find the coin. If I’d had the good sense what’s in Bill McGinnis head I’d a bought a little road tavern like he did twenty years ago an’ I’d a-had a bank book roostin’ back of the bar. But I thinks there’s still somethin’ doin’ my end an’ I waits an’ loses—and what do I get—a couple of treasuries and some change at the pay off durin’ the season with crackers and cheese for me an’ the old woman in the winter. It’s the diff’rence ’tween horse radish an’ saw dust an’ its got me slippin’ back.
“I’ll tell you fellers somethin’ ’bout the old days. ’Twas ’bout ’76 an’ we was graftin’ with a one ring outfit. We struck good crops and sunny weather in the one nighters in the Ohio valley. The farmers had money an’ there was peaches in the orchard for every boy with the troup that had a bag of tricks. Everybody was standin’ in on the graft an’ we had a fixer two days ahead so there’d be no call. We was carryin’ a car with the lay out an’ four tin horns that was science on faro and turnin’ the wheel. The big game was invited to the car an’ there was allus a set out an’ sumthin’ to drink. The little fish was worked on the lot an’ there was days, many days when the graft was mor’n the ticket wagon count up, an’ the rake off was loafin’ ’bout par, continuous. Good days them, me boys, for ev’ry body from the boss of the outfit down to the stake driver. Money was comin’ easy an’ when there was any protestin’ on the part of the patrons an’ it got to fists, or gun play we passed along the Hey Rube an’ there was Gettysburg till mornin’ if they was lookin’ for battle.
“The best burg we hit was a lit’l settlement where we had a two mile haul up the pike from track to lot. Everything was ripe for graftin’ an’ we was ready for harvest. Seems like a reform committee had to hit down all the games and the folks was hungry for gamlin’. The posters in No. 1 car piped us off on conditions an’ it was said that them paste spreaders traveled off with a roll from stud polker in the car after the bills was on the stands.