The life of the circus musician, filled as it is with plenty of hard work, is not without its sunny side. The constant change of scene incident to travel alone is a great factor in dispelling weariness. The open air life renders it the most healthful of occupations, while the antics of the rustic who comes into town to see the parade and hear the band, are an endless source of amusement. The music for the parade, played as it is in a very lively tempo, causes all manner of grotesque movements among the listeners on the streets. This is particularly noticeable on the southern tours. It is no uncommon thing for a number of “darkies” to start at the circus grounds and dance through the entire route of the parade; and when in doubling back on the main street, which is often necessary in the smaller towns, the band passes the steam calliope, which brings up the rear, the din caused by the mingling of the band-music with the shrill whistle of this instrument, seems to throw them into a veritable frenzy. During one of these parades the following colloquy was overheard between two of these over-excited “darkies”:
“Jim,” yelled a particularly dusky individual, “look at dat man up yonda with dat slip ho’n!”
“Deuce wid de slip ho’n,” replied Jim, “look at dat steam fiddle!”
I remember an astonishing but blessed effect the music of our circus band had on a woman in Grand Island, Nebraska, in 1882. She had been blind for years and was sitting dejectedly at a window as we approached in parade. When opposite her, we burst suddenly into brazen harmony, and the woman gave a scream of great joy. The shock of the music had caused her to regain her eyesight.
CHAPTER XIII
WITH THE ELEPHANTS
“Jumbo was the biggest elephant ever in this country, and few are in the secret that the tremendous success of the animal’s tour was an accident of fortune,” observed our elephant man. “He was an African animal and very stupid, but always good-natured. An agent of the big American circus heard that he was the tallest pachyderm in captivity and that London was anxious to sell him. The man closed the sale for two thousand pounds with no conception of the money-making prize he was securing. The beast had been a pet with the children in the London Zoological Gardens, but the announcement of his purchase by Americans was received with no especial expressions of regret. It required two weeks to build a van-like cage for the journey by sea, and then keepers went to the zoo to lead Jumbo to the ship. He strode along all right until the gate of the garden closed behind them and then lay down in the street. It was a pure case of elephantine obstinacy and the animal wouldn’t budge. There he measured his length in the dust for twenty-four hours despite all urging and entreaty, to the despair of his custodians, who little realized the wonderful effect the incident would have on the owner’s pocketbook.
“The English newspapers soon heard of the occurrence and promptly seized upon it for an effective ‘story.’ ‘Dear old Jumbo,’ they said, ‘refused to leave the scene of his happy days with the children; his exhibition of protest was one of remarkable sagacity; they hoped he would continue to defy the Yankee showmen and remain in London; he was the pet and friend of the little ones and ought never to have been disposed of, any way.’ The elephant when in repose or resistance rests on his knees, and one of the newspaper sagely remarked that Jumbo was in an attitude of prayer. The Humane Society was appealed to and someone made a sympathetic hit by telling how lonesome and melancholy was Alice, the abandoned ‘wife.’ The pathos of the thing was very affecting, on the surface, but a phenomenal advertisement.
“The animal finally got on his feet and marched to the boat. Weeping women and children lined the way. The circus owners were then alive to the possibilities and, concealing their identity, got out an injunction, ‘in the interests of the London public,’ attempting to restrain the brute’s departure. Of course, it was dissolved, but it kept feeling at high pitch up to the time of sailing. I remember the Baroness Burdett-Coutts and a party of distinguished companions visited the steamer to say good-bye and left a big box of buns, of which Jumbo was very fond, for his use during the voyage.