The exhibition was held in two tents, one for the wild animals and the other for the ring performance. The wild animals were in exactly eight wagon cages and consisted of a sickly-looking lion, a half-starved tiger, several raccoons, two foxes, a small bear, and about a dozen monkeys. There were also two elephants, one so old he was blind and could hardly stand.
“Well, this is a sell, if ever there was one,” murmured Tom, after looking into the various cages.
“I feel like going out to the butcher shop and buying something with which to feed that tiger,” answered Dick. “He looks as if he hadn’t had a square meal for a week.”
“I’m going to give the monkeys some peanuts, that’s the best I can do for them,” put in Sam.
“If the ring show isn’t better than this we are stuck sure,” was Fred’s comment.
“Hullo, there’s that handbill man now,” cried Tom, as Giles Frozzler came into the tent. “Won’t he laugh when he sees how Sam and Fred have been stuck?”
Two of the circus employees were near by and from their talk Fred learned that the showbill man was the proprietor of the circus.
“He certainly must be a one-horse fellow, or he wouldn’t be throwing out his own showbills,” said Sam, on hearing this.
Frozzler wore a soft hat, and as he stood near the monkey cage Tom threw some peanuts into the crown of the head covering.
Instantly the monkeys crowded forward. One seized a peanut and another, to get the rest of the nuts, caught hold of the hat and pulled it into the cage.
“Hi! give me my hat!” roared Giles Frozzler, and put his hand into the cage to get the article in question.
The monkeys thought he had more peanuts and, being half starved, they grabbed his hand and pulled it this way and that, while one gave the man a severe nip.
“Oh! oh!” screamed the circus man. “Let go my hand, you pesky rascal!”
“Hullo, dat monkey am got a limb dat don’t belong to no tree,” sang out Aleck.
“You shut your mouth!” growled Frozzler “Hi! give me my hat!” he went on to the monkeys. But the animals paid no attention to him. They ate up the peanuts as fast as they could and then one began an investigation by pulling the band from the hat.
The head covering was a new one, purchased but two days before, and to see it being destroyed made Giles Frozzler frantic.
“Give me that, you rascals!” he roared, and began to poke at the monkeys with a sharp stick. But two of them caught the stick and, watching their chance, jerked it away from him.
“Hurrah! score one for the monks!” sang out Tom, and this made the crowd laugh.
“If you don’t shut up I’ll have you put out,” came angrily from Giles Frozzler.
“Why don’t you buy hats for the pool’ dear monkeys?” went on Tom. “Then they wouldn’t want yours.”
“Oh, you keep quiet!”
“Those monkeys are about starved,” said Sam. “Let us get up a subscription for their benefit. I don’t believe they have had a square meal in a year.”
“All of the animals look starved,” said Dick, loudly.
“Dat am a fac’,” added Aleck.
“This is a bum show,” cried a burly farmer boy standing close by. “Why, they have more animals nor this in a dime museum.”
“Will you fellows shut up?” cried Giles Frozzler. “This show is all right.”
“Of course you’d say so—you’re the feller wot put out them bills,” said the burly country boy.
“If you don’t like the show you can get out.”
“All right, Mr. Billman, give me back my quarter.”
“Yes, give me my quarter and I’ll go too,” put in one of the shopkeepers of Oak Run.
“And so will I go,” added a woman.
“Me, too,” came in a voice from the rear of the crowd.
“Oh, you people make me tired,” grumbled Giles Frozzler, and then, fearing that the people would really demand their money back he sneaked off, leaving the monkeys to continue the destruction of his head covering.
CHAPTER XV
ACTS NOT ON THE BILLS
It was now almost time for the ring performance to begin. Dick had purchased so-called reserved seats for the crowd, paying an additional ten cents for each seat, but when they reached the tent with the ring they found that the reserved seats were merely a creation of fancy on the part of the circus owner. Giles Frozzler had had imitation chair bottoms painted on the long boards used for seats and each of these buttons was numbered.
“This is a snide, sure,” said Sam.
“Well, there is one thing about it, they can’t crowd you,” answered Dick. And that was the one advantage the “reserved seats” afforded. On the common seats the spectators were crowded just as closely as possible, until the seats threatened to break down with the weight put upon them.
There was a delay in opening the ring performance and for a very good reason. In the dressing tent Giles Frozzler was having great difficulty in persuading his leading lady rider and his clown to go on. Both wanted their pay for the past two weeks.
“I shall not ride a step until I am paid,” said the equestrienne, with a determined toss of her head.
“And I don’t do another flip-flap,” put in the clown.
“Oh, come, don’t talk like that,” argued Giles Frozzler. “I’ll pay you to-morrow, sure.”
“No.”
“I’ll pay you to-night—just as soon as the performance is over. Just see what a crowd we have—the money is pouring in.”
At this the lady bareback rider hesitated, and finally said she would go on. But the clown would not budge.
“I may be a clown in the ring, but not in the dressing room,” said he, tartly. “I want my pay, or I don’t go on.”
“All right then, you can consider yourself discharged,” cried Giles Frozzler.
He had started in the circus business as a clown and thought he could very well fill his employee’s place for a day or two. In the meantime he would send to the city for another clown whom he knew was out of a situation.
At last the show began with what Frozzler termed on his handbills the Grand Opening Parade, consisting of the two elephants, two ladies on horseback, two circus hands on horseback, the little bear, who was tame, and several educated dogs. In the meantime the band, consisting of seven pieces, struck up a march which was more noise than harmony.
“Here’s your grand circus,” whispered Sam. “Beats the Greatest Show on Earth to bits, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll wager a big tomato against a peck of clams that I can get up a better show myself, and do it blindfolded, too,” returned Tom.
The grand opening at an end, there was a bit of juggling by a juggler who made several bad breaks in his act, and then came the lady bareback rider. At the same time, Frozzler came out, dressed in a clown’s suit and painted up.
“Hullo, there’s that chap again!” cried Dick. “He must be running half the show himself.”
“How are you to-morrow?” sang out the clown. And after doing a flip-flap, he continued: “Mr. Ringmaster, what’s the difference between your knife and me?”
“I know!” shouted Tom. “His knife is a jack-knife, while you are a jack-of-all-trades!”
At this sally there was a loud laugh.
“What is the difference between my knife and you?” queried the ringmaster, as soon as he could make himself heard.
“That’s it.”
“I don’t know.”
“I told you!” shouted Tom.
“The difference between your knife and me,” answered Frozzler, “is that you can shut your knife up but you can’t shut me up,” and then he made a face and did another tumble.
“His knife is sharper than you, too,” cried Sam. A roar followed, which made Frozzler so angry he shook his f
ist at the youngest Rover.
“Why is that boy like a fish?” cried Frozzler.
“Because he’s too slippery for a clown to catch,” put in Fred, loudly, and this created such a laugh that Frozzler’s answer was completely lost on the crowd. Again he shook his fist at our friends, but they merely laughed at him.
“I had a funny dream last night,” went on the clown. “What do you think I dreamed?”
“That you had paid all your bills,” called out Dick.
This brought forth another laugh at Frozzler’s expense, in which even some of the circus hands joined.
“Say, those boys are sharp,” said the clown who had been discharged. “I shouldn’t care to run up against them.”
“Three of them are the Rover boys,” answered a man sitting near. “Nobody can get the best of them.”
“I dreamed a whale came along and swallowed me,” went on Frozzler.
“Hullo, I knew you were a Jonah!” sang out Tom. And once more the crowd roared.
“In the whale I met my old schoolmate, Billy Black,” continued the clown.
“That was a black moment for poor Billy,” was Sam’s comment.
“Did you give Billy a whaling?” asked Tom.
“Did dat whale git a stummick ache from swallerin’ yo’?” came loudly from Aleck. “I t’ink any whale would, ‘less his insides was copper-lined.”
Aleck said this so gravely that it brought forth a roar which did not subside for a full minute. Poor Frozzler could do nothing, and to save himself made half a dozen tumbles. Then he started to run from the ring, but tripped over one of the ropes and pitched headlong on his nose.
“Hullo, there a tumble extra!” sang out Tom. “Thank you; nothing like giving us good measure!”
“I’d like to wax that boy good!” growled Giles Frozzler, as he shot into the dressing tent. “Those youngsters spoiled my act completely.” And then he hurried to a pail of water to bathe his nose.
The next act was fairly good and put the crowd in good humor once more. But that to follow was so bad that many began to hiss. Then came a race which was as tame as it could possibly be, and many began to leave.
“This is the worst circus yet,” said one man. “If anybody comes to-night he’ll be sold.”
“I’m going to let all my friends know what a flat thing it is,” said another. “It isn’t worth ten cents, much less a quarter.”
The circus was to wind up with the riding of a trick mule,—the animal being brought out by the clown.
As it happened the regular clown and the mule were friends, but the mule hated Frozzler, for the circus owner had on more than one occasion mistreated the animal.
“Be careful of that mule,” said one of the hostlers, as he turned the trick animal over to Giles Frozzler. “He’s ugly this afternoon.”
“Oh, I know how to manage him,” growled Frozzler. “Come on here, you imp!” and he hit the mule in the side.
Instantly the mule made a bolt for the ring with Frozzler running after him.
“One hundred dollars to anybody who can ride Hanky-Panky!” sang out Giles Frozzler. “He is as gentle as a kitten, and it is a great pleasure to be able—”
The clown got no further, for just then the mule turned around and gave him a kick which sent him sprawling. Then, like a flash Hanky-Panky turned around, caught Frozzler by the waist and began to run around the ring with him.
“Hi! let go!” screamed the thoroughly frightened circus owner. “Let go, I say! Help! he will kill me! Help!”
“Hurrah! the mule has got the best of it!” sang out Tom. “He knows how to run a circus even if that fellow don’t.”
“I’ll bet on the mule,” put in Dick. “He’s a nose ahead in this race!”
“Save me!” yelled Frozzler. “Drat that beast! Stop him, somebody!”
There was intense excitement, and several employees rushed forward to rescue Frozzler. But before this could be done, the mule left the ring tent and dashed into the dressing room, where he allowed the circus owner to drop into a barrel of water which was kept there in case of fire. At this the crowd yelled itself hoarse; and this scene brought the afternoon performance to an end.
CHAPTER XVI
ALECK BRINGS NEWS
“I reckon we got square,” was Tom’s comment, after the fun was over and they were on their way to the farm. “My, but wasn’t that circus owner mad!”
“I don’t think he’ll have another such crowd to-night,” said Fred, and he was right. The evening performance was attended by less than a hundred people, and a week later the show failed and was sold out completely.
By the end of the week word was received from both the Stanhopes and the Lanings that all would be glad to join the Rovers in their houseboat vacation. They would take a train for Pittsburg direct on the following Wednesday morning and would there await their friends.
“This suits me to a T!” cried Dick, after reading the communication Dora had sent him. “If we don’t have the best time ever then it will be our own fault.”
“Just what I say,” answered Sam, who had received a long letter from Grace.
There were many articles to pack and ship to Pittsburg. The boys also made out a long list of the things to be purchased for the trip, and in this their father and their aunt helped them.
Sunday passed quietly, all of the boys attending both church and Sunday school. It was a hard matter for Tom to keep still on the Sabbath day, but he did so, much to his aunt’s comfort.
Aleck Pop was highly delighted to think that he was to be taken along, especially as cook.
“I’se gwine to do ma level best fo’ yo’ an’ fo’ de ladies,” said the colored man. “Yo’ is gwine to hab reg’lar Waldorf-Astoria feed.”
“Don’t feed us too good, Aleck, or we’ll all die of dyspepsia,” said Sam.
“I’ll take care of dat, Massah Sam. Don’t yo’ remember how I used to cook when we was out in de wilderness ob Africa?”
“Indeed I do, Aleck. Yes, I know you’ll take care of us,” answered Sam.
On the day before the start the boys were surprised to see Hans Mueller appear, with a big trunk and a dress-suit case. The German boy came over from Oak Run in a grocery wagon, having been unable to find a cab.
“How you all vos?” said he, shaking hands. “I dink first I go py dot Pittsburg und den I dinks me I got lost maybe—so I come here.”
“That’s right, Hans,” said Dick. “But what made you bring such a big trunk?”
“Shsh!” answered Hans, putting a finger to the side of his nose. “Dot is a secrets alretty!”
“A secret?”
“Dot’s him. You vos going to haf der ladies along, hey?”
“Yes, they are all going.”
“I got me dree dress suits py mine drunk in.”
“Three dress suits!” roared Dick. “Oh, Hans!”
“Ain’t dot enough?” questioned the German cadet, dubiously.
“Three dress suits!” repeated Dick. “Oh, somebody hold me, or I’ll have a fit!” And he nearly doubled up with laughter.
“What’s the funeral about?” came from Tom, who was standing near.
“Hans is to become a real ladies’ man, Tom.”
“I don’t solve the riddle.”
“He has got three dress suits in his trunk.”
“Phew! He’ll leave us in the shade entirely. Say, Hans, have you got any patent leathers?”
“Yah, I got two pairs of batent-leather shoes.”
“Hope you brought your pumps,” put in Sam, who had come up.
“Bumps?” queried Hans, with a puzzled look. “Vy I pring me a bump? Does der poat leak?”
“Well, that’s the limit!” roared Dick.
“Sam means your dancing pumps?” said Fred. “You mustn’t forg
et them, you know—not if you want to be a really and truly society man.”
“I got a pair of slippers for dot,” answered Hans. “How many dress suits you vos dake along, hey?”
“Oh, about seven,” answered Tom, carelessly.
“You ton’t tole me dot, Tom! Maybe I haf to puy some more, hey?”
“Well, I shouldn’t—not just yet,” answered Dick. “Wait till the new fall styles come out. What you want for a starter is some everyday clothes, a sweater or two, and a pair of rubber boots, in case we have to walk ashore in the mud some time.”
“Veil, I got dem too,” answered Hans.
A letter had already been sent to Captain Starr, asking him to have the houseboat brought up to Pittsburg. The captain was also told to have the Dora thoroughly cleaned and put in proper trim for he outing.
“We want the ladies to be satisfied with her appearance,” said Dick.
“And especially since she is named the Dora,” grinned Tom.
“Oh, you’re only piqued because she isn’t named the Nellie,” retorted his older brother, with a laugh.
“Never mind, Dick; some day you can use the houseboat on a honeymoon,” answered Tom, and then ran off.
At last came the time for the boys to leave the farm. Jack Ness took all the trunks and suit cases to the depot and then transported the boys in the family carriage, with Aleck on the seat beside him.
“Good-bye to Valley Brook farm!” cried Tomb waving his hat.
“Take good care of yourselves, boys!” shouted Anderson Rover.
“Don’t get drowned,” put in the aunt. And then with final adieux they were off. The drive to Oak Run was a quick one, and ten minutes later the train came in and they went aboard.
The run to Pittsburg was to occupy several hours, so the boys made themselves as comfortable as possible. They had dinner on the train and ordered the best of everything to be had.
It had been arranged that all bound for the houseboat trip should meet at the American House, and thither the boys made their way on reaching the Smoky City, as Pittsburg is often called, on account of its numerous manufactories.
“Here we are!” cried a voice, as soon as they entered, and Songbird Powell hurried up to them. “I thought you’d get here about this time.”
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