CHAPTER XIV
THE GENERAL MANAGER

The brisk and bustling person who predominates in the stir and activity, hurry and excitement at the main entrance, is the general manager. Nothing seems to escape his watchful eve and alert ear.

He answers questions innumerable and all-embracing, settles all disputes as to admission, conveys advice, makes suggestions, gives orders, sends lieutenants all over the lot with instructions, sees to it that the crowd gets in safely but without delay, watches ticket-seller and ticket-taker, and is in general active charge of the “door.”

His is a very important department of circus life, requiring peculiar natural talents, wide experience, correct knowledge of law and logic, familiarity with affairs, and ability to manipulate men and mayors. The grave responsibilities of the circus are his and they are enough to weaken brain and body.

He is one of the first men off the cars in the morning and his day frequently ends when all his comrades are sleeping with the peace and vigor perfect health and a clear conscience afford. There is no working hour when some one of his multifarious duties does not claim his attention. He is first of all a license and contract specialist. There is nothing about their force or character or price in any part of the country he has not at his finger ends. The pecuniary cost to the show of the privileges it enjoys is entirely in his keeping. His morning is devoted to municipal and county officers and office holders. His long service has made him personally acquainted with many of them in all parts of the country. He belongs to nearly all secret societies and social organizations, which helps his purposes; he distributes admission tickets with lavish freedom where they will “do good;” his instinct tells him how long to entertain and not bore, and his errand over, a favorable impression remains. The result has been the promise of gratuitous official favors and almost invariably a reduced rate for permits.

The policing of the grounds and the protection of the show and of its patrons are in the general manager’s charge. In this the circus detective is his ally and adviser, but the burden of results is his. He assures the chief of police of the honest motives of the organization, tells him no thieves or criminals are tolerated, promises that there shall be no disorder or violence on the part of the circus people, and asks in return protection and cooperation. How inadequately the police of many towns can meet the needs of the occasion is told in another chapter of this book.

The circus is subject to a system of plunder, blackmail and robbery en route that is unheard of in any other business. All classes of people seem ready to render a hand in the nefarious game, considering the circus fair prey. It requires the most diplomatic management to extricate the show without financial loss or legal proceedings, and frequently, after all, it must submit to extortion to escape attachments. These are usually levied upon the ticket wagon just before the evening performance or upon a pole wagon as the tents are being pulled down. This sort of legal robbery occurs in many towns. The show may think it is getting off all right when suddenly some accident, some chance injury to property or persons, affords an excuse for a levy.

An amusing incident among the varied pretexts for “hold up” was that we encountered in Biddeford, Maine. The day had progressed without untoward incident and at nine o’clock we thought the chance of legal trouble was past. Then, suddenly, appeared an irate resident, whose home adjoined the lot, with the declaration that our monkey cage cat was his wife’s, and with a demand that we return her forthwith. He may have been laboring under a truly mistaken impression, but his subsequent conduct made us believe not, for upon our decided refusal, he made an attachment. The general manager decided then to grant the visitor’s claim; the feline wasn’t worth legal bother and expenditure. The proceeding cost the circus nine dollars in fees and left the monkeys in mourning. It had been their playful practice to convey struggling tabby to the top of the cage and then hurl her violently to the floor.