The Circus Boys in Dixie Land Part 35

"I have an even better scheme, and it will be great advertising-- one that few people in town will be able to resist."

"Yes? I am listening."

"Well, in the first place, have the long pole wagons fixed up to bring the people over. We can use our ring platforms to make a bottom for the pa.s.sengers to sit on."

"Yes, that will be easy."

"Then, take some side wall poles, stand them up along the sides of the wagon and build a roof with canvas. That will keep the inside of the wagon as dry as a barn."

"A splendid idea. But how are you going to get the folks over here after you have done that?"

"Wait, I am coming to that. What do you say to hitching the elephants to the wagons and hauling the people back and forth?

Nothing like that has ever been done, has it?"

Mr. Sparling tossed up his hat regardless of the fact that the rain was beating down on his head and running down his neck.

"Nothing ever been done to compare with it, since P. T. Barnum ploughed up his farm with Jumbo. By the great Dan Rice, that's a scheme!" shouted Mr. Sparling enthusiastically.

"But you will have to hurry if you are going to put the plan into operation," urged Phil.

"What would you suggest, Phil?"

"I would suggest that you send men into town on horseback, right away, having them call at every house, at the post office, the hotel and every other place they can think of, telling the people what we propose to do. Teddy and I will take horses and go out with the rest, if you say so. The rain won't hurt us, and besides, it will be great fun. What do you say, sir?"

Mr. Sparling hesitated for one brief second.

"Come on!" he shouted as with hat in hand he splashed toward the lot followed a short distance behind by Phil.

The arrangements suggested by the Circus Boy were quickly made, and a company of hors.e.m.e.n rode over to the village to tell the people how they might see the show without getting wet.

While this was being done the pole wagons were being rigged for the purpose, and the elephants were provided with harness strong enough to stand the strain of the heavy loads they would have to draw.

The wagons were to be driven along the village streets at one o'clock, the circus to begin at half-past two. That would give the show people plenty of time to prepare for the performance.

The suggestion met with great enthusiasm. Few people had ever had the privilege of riding behind an elephant team, and they gladly welcomed the opportunity.

At Phil's further suggestion a separate wagon had been prepared for the colored people. When all was ready the elephants were first driven across the ridge without their wagons, to show the animals that the footing was safe. Then they were hooked to the covered pole wagons and the work of transporting the village to the lot was begun.

The show grounds were on an island, now, entirely surrounded by water. Some of the clowns had rigged up fis.h.i.+ng outfits and sat on the bank in the rain trying to catch fish, though there probably was not a fish within a mile of them, according to Phil's idea.

"That's good work for a fool," gloated Teddy.

"It takes a wise man to be a fool, young man," was the clown's retort.

"Perhaps you don't know that the river has overflowed a few miles above here, and that this place is full of fish?"

"No; I don't know anything of the sort. The only water I see coming is from right overhead. Maybe there's fish swimming around up there; I don't know. Never caught any up there myself."

After a time the clowns tired of their sport and went back to their dressing tent to prepare for the afternoon performance, the only performance that would be given that day, as it would not be safe to try to transport the people across the water in the dark.

And, besides, the owner of the show hoped to be able to get his show aboard the cars before night.

In the big top a slender rope had been stretched across the blue seats from the arena back to the sidewall. This was the "color line." On one side of it sat the colored people, on the other the white people.

After all were seated, however, the line was taken down and colored and white people sat elbow to elbow. All were perfectly satisfied, for the color line had been drawn. The rest did not matter.

The show people entered into the spirit of the unusual exhibition with the keenest zest, and the Sparling show had never given a better entertainment than it did that afternoon. The clowns, even though they had not been successful as fishermen, where wholly so when they entered the ring. Teddy and his donkey, which he had named January, after the manner of most clowns who own these animals, set the whole tent roaring, while s.h.i.+vers and his "shadow" made a hit from the moment they entered.

"I've got the greatest bunch of people to be found in this country," confided Mr. Sparling proudly to the surgeon.

"Especially those two boys, eh?"

"Yes. They can't be beaten. Neither can a lot of the others."

A fair-sized house had been brought over to see the show, and after the performance was ended they were taken back to their homes in the pole wagons, as they had been brought over.

"I'll tell you what you ought to do," said Teddy confidentially, just before the show closed.

"Well, what is it?" questioned Mr. Sparling.

"You ought to leave those folks here."

"Leave them here?"

"Yes."

"What for?"

"Why, they couldn't get back, and they would have to go to the evening performance again. You'd get 'em going and coming then.

Do you see?"

The showman tipped back his head, laughing long and loud.

"Yes; I see."

"Then why not do it?"

"Young man, this show doesn't do things that way. We do business on the square, or we don't do it at all. I admire your zeal, but not your plan."

"Yes," agreed Phil, who stood near; "I sometimes think Teddy Tucker's moral code does need bolstering up a bit."

"What's that?" questioned Teddy. "What's a moral code?"

"I'll explain it to you some other time when we are not so busy,"

replied Phil.

"Nor so wet," added Mr. Sparling. "You see, we want to come to this town to show again some other time."

"I don't," responded Teddy promptly. "I've had all I want of it for the rest of my natural life. I can get all the fun I want out of performing on dry ground, instead of the edge of a lake that you are expecting every minute to tumble into."