The Peck's Bad Boy Megapack

by George W. Peck

  About this time the planter took the lead, and they all went across a pasture into the woods, and began knocking nuts off the trees. All through the woods there were signs: “No Tresspassing,” and “Beware of the Dogs,” but the planter said to never mind the signs. I told the boy to let the dogs loose on the trail in about half an hour, and I went along with the folks, and I told pa I had seen a pack of bloodhounds that would eat people alive, and if he heard hounds barking to run like a whitehead and climb a tree. I got with the giant, who is a coward in his own right, and told him the only trouble about these great plantations in the south was the wild dogs that inhabited the mountains, that would not hesitate to attack a man if they got good and hungry, but there was no danger to him, because he was a good sprinter, and could outrun a jack rabbit. The giant wanted to go back to the house, ’cause he said he didn’t want to run no foot race with hounds, and he had seen the sign to beware of the dogs. I never ought to have done it, ’cause the fat woman looks as though she was built a purpose for apoplexy, but I told her as a friend, not to load herself down with nuts, but to travel light, so if the wild dogs came down to raid the plantation she could crawl in a hole out of sight till the dogs had eaten some of the men. She came near fainting right there, before the dogs got busy.

  There were about 20 negroes throwing clubs at the nuts, and everybody was having a big time. The trapeze performers were squirreling up among the limbs, when suddenly, in the distance came the bay of the pack of bloodhounds, and every negro turned pale, and got ready to climb a tree. The planter stopped to listen, and when one of the managers of the show asked him what was the matter, he said: “You can search me, sah. If that is my pack of hounds a crime has been committed, and the sheriff has started the pack on the trail of the criminal, sah, because the dogs are never turned loose, except for business.”

  Then the planter yelled to the negroes, and said: “If any of youall are guilty of crime, you best get scarce, or pick out your tree, and get up it mighty sudden, ’cause the hounds haven’t been fed lately.” Every colored man picked a tree, and the hounds kept coming, finally showing up jumping the fence, and entering the woods, and the planter cut a club to beat off the dogs. Pa looked as innocent as John Wanamaker’s picture addressing a Sunday school, the giant saw the dogs and started for a tall tree, and the fat lady said she couldn’t find any hole big enough to hide in, and “the idea,” if there were not men enough to protect a lady.

  Well, I never expected to see anything so fine as the way those hounds run with their noses to the ground, scattered in three packs one pack on the trail of each of the three whose shoes I had doctored. When they got near us they broke up and went around everywhere that pa and the giant and the fat lady had walked, and fell over each other, but finally one pack went to the tall tree where the giant had climbed to the first limb, and stood on their hind legs and barked a salute to him. He trembled so I was afraid he would fall off, but he wound his arms and legs around the tree, and began to cry. The planter told him whatever crime he had committed it was all up with him.

  The part of the pack that was on pa’s trail began to close in on pa, and I said: “Pa, if you don’t want to be dog meat, it is up to you to climb, and you better get a move on, or I shall be an orphan mighty quick, ’cause the dogs are starving.” Pa made a couple of quick jumps, and grabbed a limb of a hickory tree, and was pulling himself up and repeating prayers, when the leading dog reached up his nose and smelled pa’s shoes, when the intelligent animal gave a bark and a yell to the other dogs, as much as to say: “That’s the identical cuss. Eat him alive.”

  He grabbed about a double handful of the cloth of pa’s clothes right below where his suspenders button on and held on, and shook pa real hard, but the cloth was tough and didn’t tear. Pa suddenly seemed to be endowed with superhuman strength, for he drew himself up on the limb and raised the dog from the ground, and all the pack came around the tree and set up a howl that scared pa so the perspiration rolled off him, and he had a chill so he shook like the ague.

  Pa yelled to the planter, who was holding up the fat lady and said: “Here, Mr. Confederate, I am not a union prisoner, and I want you to unlock your dog’s jaws, and free me, ’cause I can’t hold up a 90-pound dog by my suspenders much longer. If this is southern hospitality, I don’t want to be entertained no more.” The planter leaned the fat lady against a tree, and took the dog by the hind legs and pulled him off.

  The planter yelled to the negroes to come down and help handle the dogs, but just then the boy who started the dogs on the trail, at my request, came up whistling, with a dog whip in his hand, and all the dogs surrounded him, and he made them lay down and roll over. All of the scared people came down from their perches in the trees, and surrounded the boy and the dogs, and the dogs panted and lolled, as though they had been having a nice run for their money. The old planter asked his boy how the dogs had happened to get loose, and that fool boy told the whole thing, how I had asked him to let the pack run, and how I had put anise seed in the shoes of pa, the giant and the fat lady. Then you ought to have seen what they did to me. The planter said they usually had a lynching when the dogs made a run, but that was impossible in this case, so he suggested that they make me run the gauntlet. I didn’t know what running the gauntlet was, but after pa had told me he should disown me from that moment, I said I was willing to run any gauntlet, so they all cut switches and formed in two lines, and let me run down between them. I thought it would be fun, but when I started and every last man gave me a cut across the end of my back with a hickory switch, I yelled murder, and run between the giant’s legs and tackled him like football I toppled him over against the next man, and that man hit the giant in the stomach, and everybody began to fight, and the festivities broke up.

  I went to the house with the boy and the dogs, and we set the dogs on a mess of cats, and treed everything alive on the plantation. Finally the whole crowd came back to the house and had another lunch, with mint julep and champagne, and then everybody was hugging some one, and crying on each other’s neck, and swearing that the war was over, and that the north and the south were one and inseparable, and the two together could whip the whole world.

  Pa somehow saw double. I was standing alone, smarting from the switching I got, when pa came up to me and said: “I want you two boys to understand that I don’t want any more experiments played on me. I can take a joke us well as anybody, but when you set a hundred dogs on my trail, I am no gentlemen, see? Now we will go back to the show.”

  CHAPTER XX

  The Bad Boy Goes After a Mess of White Turnips for the Menagerie—He Feeds the Animals Horseradish, but Gets the Worst of the Deal.

  You can learn something new and interesting every day in a circus, and a boy, particularly, can store his mind with useful knowledge, that will be valuable to him in after years.

  Gee, but I have learned some things that I could never have learned in college, ’cause at college you only learn things that have to be verified by actual experience in business. Pa says one year in the circus will be better for me than ten years in a reform school. But I learned something yesterday that made such an impression on me that I will not be able to sit down comfortably before the season is over.

  You see, it was this way. Once a week it is the custom to feed all the animals that are vegetarians a mess of ground white turnips, ’cause it opens up the pores, and makes the animals feel good, like a politician who goes to French Lick springs, and has the whisky boiled out of him. After the animals have eaten the turnip mush, they become agreeable, and will rub against the keepers, and eat out of your hand.

  I had been with pa a dozen times to find a place where we could get a few barrels of turnips ground up fine, and so yesterday, when the boss animal keeper was sick, and turned his job over to pa, pa told me to go out in town, at Lynchburg, Va., and get a couple of washtubs full of ground turnips, and have the stuff sent in to the menagerie tent in time for the afternoon performance. I got a boy
to go with me. We hunted all the groceries and couldn’t find turnips enough to make a first payment, but we found a place where they grate horseradish and bottle it for the market, and I ordered two washtubs full of horseradish grated nicely, and sent to the tent, but I made the man bill it as ground turnips.

  The boy and I played all the forenoon, and when the man started with the ground horseradish for the tent, we went along, and I introduced the man to pa, and pa O. K.’d the bill, and sent him to the treasurer after the money. I was going to get on a back seat and watch the animals eat, but pa said: “Here, you boys, get out those pans and portion out the turnips and pass ’em around just as the crowd comes in, ’cause after the animals have had a mess of cut feed they are better natured, and show off better.”

  I was pretty leery about feeding the animals horseradish, and would have preferred to have some one else do it, who did not care to live any longer, but I said: “Yes, sir,” just like that, and touched my hat to pa, and he said to the boss canvasman: “There’s a boy you can swear by.”

  The boss canvasman said: “You are right, old man, but if he was mine, I would kill him so quick it would make your head swim,” and he and pa went off laughing, but I think they laughed too soon.

  Well, we took a spud and put about a quart of horseradish in each pan, and put the pans in front of each animal, and you ought to have seen them rush for the supposed turnips, like a drove of cattle after salt.

  The boy and I got up on the platform with the freaks, to be in a safe place, and watch the animals, and see how they digested their food. The first animal to open up the chorus was the hippopotamus, ’cause we gave him about four quarts of horseradish on account of his mouth, and he swallowed it at one mouthful. First he looked as though he felt hurt, and stopped chewing, and seemed to be thinking, like a horse that wakes up in the night with colic, and raises the whole family to sit up with him all night and pour things down his neck out of a long-neck bottle. The hippo held his breath for about a minute, and then he opened his mouth so you could drive a wagon in, and gave the grand hailing sign of distress, and said: “Wow, wow, wow,” as plain as a man could. Then he rolled over into his tank and yelled “murder,” and wallowed around, and stood on his head, till one of the keepers went in the cage to try to soothe him. He chased the keeper out, and the crowd that had just begun to come in fell back in terror.

  There was quite a crowd around the camels watching them peacefully chew their cuds, as they do at evening on the dessert, and the Arabs who had charge of the camels were standing around, posing as though they were the whole thing, when the old black, double-hump camel got his quart of horseradish down into one of his stomachs, as he was kneeling down on all fours. He yelled: “O, mamma,” and got up on all his feet, and kicked an Arab off a prayer rug, and bellowed and groaned. Then the rest of the herd of camels seemed to have swallowed their dose, and they made Rome howl. This scared the people over to where the sacred cattle were trying to set a pious example to the rest of the animals by their meek and lowly conduct.

  The sacred cow got her horseradish first, and I could see she was trying to hold it without giving the snap away, till her husband, the bull, got his. Well, it was pitiful, and I made up my mind I would never play a joke on the sacred cattle again, ’cause it seems like sacrilege. The bull finally got his horseradish down, and he was the most astonished animal I ever saw. He swelled up, and then bellowed until the cow looked as though she would sink through the ground, saying; “Excuse me, dear, but I am not to blame, because I, too, have a hot box.” The bull acted just as human as could be, ’cause he looked mad at her, and was going to gore her to death, when pa and some of the hands came up and hit him with a tent stake, and swore at him, and he quit fighting his wife, just like a man. Pa wanted to know what in thunder was the matter with the animals, and wanted to know if I had fed them the turnips, and I told him they had all been fed, and just then the giraffe, whose neck was so long the horseradish did not reach a vital spot as quick as it did with the hippo, began to yell for the police and dance around. Finally he stood on his head and neck, with his heels against a cage, and coughed like he had caught pneumonia. Pa said to the boss canvasman: “Well, what do you think of that?”

  The zebras had their inning next, and after they had swallowed their rations of horseradish, they never said a word, but began to run around like dancing the lancers, and when they got to going it looked like a kaleidoscope, and the six zebras looked like a million. Pa said: “I never saw such a sight since I used to drink, but I have either got the jim-jams, or something awful has happened to this menagerie.”

  The educated hog got a double dose, and he squealed and couldn’t pick out the right card, and then the llamas got busy on their portion of horseradish, and they cried in Spanish, and stood on their hind legs and shed tears. Pa got so rattled he looked ten years older than he did when the afternoon performance opened. The manager of the big show came in to know why the elephants had not been sent into the dressing-room, to be got ready for the grand entree. Just then the elephants began to eat their horseradish, and when they were driven into the big tent they were complaining about something being wrong inside of them, and as they came by the lemonade stand they seemed to be yelling “Fire!” Then they all stopped at the stand and began to drink the lemonade out of the barrels, which seemed to put out the fire.

  The animals quieted down a little, and pa went into the big tent to consult the manager, and I thought it was a shame that the lions and hyenas and tigers couldn’t have any fun, so I went to the table where the meat was laid out ready to feed them, and cut a hole in each piece of meat and put in a double handful of horseradish, and just then the feeder came along and began to throw the meat in the cages. Gee, but those carnivorous animals are bad enough even if you give them nice boiled sirloin steak, and they fight enough over it, at any time, but when they began to chew and tear the meat, and get horseradish hot from the griddle, they didn’t do a thing. The audience thought the animals would kill everybody. The big lion got his meat down, but it didn’t set well, and he turned a somersault, and snarled, and pulled the bars of the cage, while the grizzly bear rolled up in a ball and rolled over in his cage till the men had to hold on to the wheels to keep the shebang from going over. The hyenas, who are always mad, went on a tear that could be heard in all the tents.

  Pa and the managers came back into the menagerie tent with the animal keeper, who had been sent for, and they began to try to find out what ailed the animals, and the animal keeper asked what pa had been feeding them, and pa said he had given them their ground turnips.

  “Turnips, indeed,” said the keeper, as he took up some of the turnip and tasted of it, and he handed a handful to pa. Pa tasted it, and pa had a hot box, and the managers tasted of it, and they said: “No wonder.” Then they asked pa where he got it, and pa said he sent me to order it, and then they all said: “That settles it.”

  I thought I would go ’way and jump in the river, but pa said: “Hennery, come here, my angel,” and he spit on his hands and picked up a barrel stave. I went right up to pa, as innocent as could be, just as any dutiful son should, and right there before the animals and freaks pa—well, that’s the reason I am not sitting down very much these days. So long.

  CHAPTER XXI

  The Bad Boy and His Pa Inject a Little Politics Into the Show—Rival Bands of Atlanta Citizens Meet in the Circus Tent—A Bunch of Angry Hornets Causes Much Bitter Feeling.

  I expect that next year I shall be one of the managers of this show, ’cause they tell me I have got the greatest head of any boy that has ever traveled with the show.

  We haven’t been having a very big business in the south, because the negroes haven’t money enough to patronize shows, and a lot of the white people are either too high-toned or else they are politicians and want a pass. The managers and heads of departments held a meeting to devise some way to get both classes interested, and everybody was asked to state their views. After they all g
ot through talking pa asked me what I thought would be the best way to get the people excited about the show, and I told him there was no way except to inject a little politics into it. I said if they would give me $50 or so, to buy Chinese lanterns, and about a hundred complimentary tickets to give away, pa and I could go to Atlanta a couple of days ahead of the show and we could organize a Roosevelt club among the negroes, and a Bryan club among the white fellows, and at the evening performance we could have the two clubs march into the main tent, one from the main entrance, and one from the dressing room, with Chinese lanterns, and one could yell for Roosevelt and the other for Bryan, and advertise that a great sensation would be sprung at the evening performance. I said the tent wouldn’t begin to hold the people.

  Every one of the managers and heads of departments said it would be great stuff. Pa was the only one that kicked. He said the two processions might get into a fight, but I said what if they did, we wouldn’t be to blame. Let ’em fight if they want to, and we can see fair play.

  So they all agreed that pa and I should go to Atlanta ahead, and organize the political processions, and, say, we had such a time that the circus came near never getting out of the town alive. We overdid the thing, so they wanted to lynch me, and pa wanted to help.

  The way it was was this way: Pa was to organize the white men for Bryan, and I was to organize the negroes for Roosevelt, and we went to work and bought 600 Chinese lanterns, and pa stored his half of the lanterns in a barn on the circus lot and I stored mine in another barn owned by a negro that I gave five dollars to be my assistant, with a promise that he should have a job traveling with the show, to milk the sacred cow. I told this negro what the program was, and that I wanted 200 negroes who had an ambition to be politicians, and hold office, and I would not only pass them into the show free, but see that they got a permanent office. What we had got to do, I said, was to stampede the white procession, that would be led by pa, and the way to do it was for every negro in my party to skirmish around in the woods and find a hornet’s nest, and bring it to our barn, and fit it into one of the Chinese lanterns, and fix a candle on top of the nest, while the hornets were asleep. Then when we met the Bryan procession we were to shout and wave our lanterns, and if necessary to whack the white men over the head with the lantern with the hornets’ nest, and the hornets would wake up and do the rest.