# Dapples of the Circus/Chapter 6

FRECKLES soon discovered in his new life that, although they did the same things each day, yet no two days were alike. Each morning in the early dawn, if they were lucky, they rolled into a new town. They unloaded the three sections in the same manner, yet the task always varied. Sometimes the circus lot was near by, but often it was quite distant from the railway. Sometimes it was pleasant, and sometimes it was rainy. Freckles soon learned that a long rainy spell is the circus man's worst bugbear, and that the rain gets on the nerves of the performers as almost no other calamity.
Each day they pitched the tented circus town upon the lot and made ready for the ​day's business. But no two towns were alike. Some were clean and some were dirty. In some places the people were pleasant, and in others, disagreeable. Some towns did all they could to help the circus people, while others tried to hinder them. There was also a great difference in the crowds that came twice each day tc the big top to see the show. Some were easy to please and others hard. Some criticised, while others applauded each act regardless of whether it was good or bad.
But all this made very little difference with the performers. They went right on with their work, whether it rained or shone, whether the people applauded or hissed. Of course they were glad when they gave satisfaction, but all towns were alike to them, that is, they took no personal interest in any place; they could not, living in railway cars and white canvas tents.
Among themselves, however, they were like one great family. They always stood ​together. Probably one of the most important people in the circus, from a human standpoint, was the circus mother. She was a large, matronly woman of about sixty. Her hair was gray and there were a few wrinkles on her brow, but her heart was only about sixteen, and her smile never failed, no matter what the trouble.
Every one called her mother, and she was mother to the whole circus; but really she was a matron, watching especially over the women and girls.
But this did not hinder the men and boys from bringing their troubles to her. It was from her that Freckles received the first real woman's love in his whole life, and he was accordingly grateful.
Not only did the circus mother see that all garments, and especially costumes and trappings, were mended and clean, but she always looked out for the spiritual welfare of her great family. Each season she took charge of the money affairs of some of the young men who were naturally ​spendthrifts. Each week they gave her a portion of their pay. She guarded it carefully for them until the end of the season, and then gave it back to them with a bit of good advice about spending it.
Perhaps Freckles's best friend in the whole show was Big Bill, the head canvas-man. He was a tall, broad-shouldered chap, with a deep voice. He managed men as a general manages soldiers.
It was said on good authority that no canvas-man in the American show world could get so much out of a crew as could Big Bill. Yet he never bullied. He gave orders, and no one ever dreamed of disobeying them. When he gave an order and it proved too hard for his subordinate, the big fellow would himself take hold of the difficult task, throwing things right and left with his great strength, laughing at the crew's weakness all the time.
"You see, son," he would conclude, "your Uncle Bill don't ever ask anything of you boys that he can't do himself. ​Everything is easy if you only take hold of it with a will."
Freckles's first acquaintance with. Big Bill was made one dark, rainy night when the circus was badly mired after the evening performance. Freckles himself had taken Dapples to his car and seen him safely aboard. He had then gone back to the lot to see the circus people get through the mud. Mr. Williams had remarked, in his way, that there would be the devil to pay when they started to move.
It had rained all day long. Even in the morning, when they had come to the lots, several of the wagons had been mired. That afternoon during the performance there had come a mighty downpour, which was like a cloudburst. Some of the trapeze work had been given up because the paraphernalia were so wet and slippery. In many places on the grounds the water stood six inches deep. One of the rings inside the big top was so badly flooded that it had to be abandoned, while ​the others were six inches deep with sawdust. It was such a day as sends a chill down the spinal column of the circus people.
Although the night performance was only about half through, yet outside was a scene of wild excitement. The menagerie tent was down and packed, as well as the dining top and several other small tops. Yet there was not so much noise as would have been expected, for the men were rather silent. Three wagons seemed hopelessly mired on their way off the lot.
Four mighty elephants stood ready as soon as the horses had given up. They had their strong harnesses on, and were only awaiting the signal.
Freckles saw a twelve-horse team straining and hauling frantically on the heavy wagon. Presently the horses were taken off and two powerful elephants took their places. Ata word from their drivers they leaned forward and began straining on the load. To Freckles's great surprise the ​mired wagon began slowly crawling out of the mud. Like ponderous machines, the great beasts moved forward, carrying the wagon to safety.
Once it was fairly off the lot, the horses were again hitched to it and the load went on its way in safety. But the faithful elephants went back for another mired wagon.
Everything seemed to go badly that night. The canvas was hard to handle. It would not roll up readily, and it was also very heavy.
One of the smaller tents had collapsed that afternoon, deluging the inmates with hogsheads of water that had collected on its top. This had precipitated a merry row, and several people had promised to sue the circus, to which the manager had smilingly assured them that he would pay for their soiled linen, but that he thought they really needed a good bath.
But amid all this confusion and seemingly hopeless plight towered the tall ​figure of Big Bill, the head canvas-man. He stood like the giant he was, warding calamity away from the circus. The locomotives at the freight yard were shrieking for them to hurry. Horses were balking and harnesses breaking. Other men were sweating, and some of them even swearing softly to themselves, but Big Bill kept on smiling.
He was always at the point where things were going the worst. Everywhere he went he carried good cheer and brought order out of chaos.
At one point, when three wagons had become mired at once and everybody despaired of ever getting the outfit to the depot, Freckles saw Big Bill call one of the circus clowns who was also watching.
"Here, you merry loafer," cried the big fellow, "come lend a hand. You are not strong with your hands, but you are with your wits. A little fun, a bit of jollity, can do a pile to help these poor sweating devils out of this. Will you help?"
​"Sure, Uncle Bill. What's my cue?"
"Well, you just go from place to place. Go where things are the worst. Crack a joke, a joke on the weather if you have one. Let it be a good one. Give 'em your best. Perhaps they will swear at you, but never mind. Keep at it until you get 'em to laugh. Once get 'em to laughing and we can beat this nasty storm."
Freckles was amazed at this advice. What could a joke do to help the plight of the circus? But he followed after the clown to see if Uncle Bill had advised well.
The man of mirth waddled up to the first wagon.
"Great night for ducks, buddies," he said.
"It's a better night for geese like you; get out of this," growled a husky driver.
"'Twas a goose that saved Rome," replied the clown. "And you can learn from a goose. Keep your feathers dry and don't go in swimming when it is rain​ing. But this isn't any rain. Why, I once knew a rain so bad that the fish all ran up under a bridge to keep dry."
"Get out with your fish story," grinned the driver. "Don't you know any more than to be cracking your chestnuts here in the rain? But that is a good one—fish keeping dry in a brook under a bridge. Ha, ha, ha!"
Thus the clown went from wagon to wagon, from one bedraggled crew to another, taking sunshine with him, and sunshine was what they all needed.
Almost before they knew it, the men themselves were cracking jokes about the rain, and laughter had taken the place of imprecations. It was also surprising how much faster the wagons moved under the stimulus of laughter than they did when they were cursed. Everything took on a different aspect, and Freckles saw they would get clear after all.
"Going pretty good, sonny," said Big Bill, clapping Freckles on the back. ​"Queer what a little fun will do in a tight pinch."
"Fun," said Freckles; "I guess that didn't have much to do with it. I guess it was all you. You are the brain of the circus when trouble comes."
"That's where you are wrong for once. I was almost stuck. I had done all that I could with my brute force. I had to have help of another sort. What the boys needed was cheering up. They had lost heart.
"Take it from me, Freckles, there isn't any problem in the world that can withstand a good-natured grin. It just stares old dark-faced trouble out of countenance. It will put the devil on the run every time. Remember that, boy. If you are in a hard place, in the circus or out, just meet your trouble with a grin. Grin inside and outside and you will beat it, because if you grin that means you will keep up your courage, and courage spells success with a capital S.
​"Well, there goes the last wagon. Let's beat it for the freight yard."
Freckles never forgot the lesson; not even when he was grown up, and as tall, if not so broad-shouldered, as Big Bill himself.
Sunday with the circus people is really a day of rest and recreation.
The circus does not usually move more than seventy-five or a hundred miles between stands. But if they find themselves obliged to make a run of two hundred miles before a good city is reached, this run is planned for Saturday night and Sunday. So country people will often see the long, gaudy circus trains rumbling over the rails on a Sunday morning while the circus people make the best of this extra run. They come out on the platforms of the cars, or lie in the shade of the large wagons, reading, eating their lunches, or just visiting.
But if the run is only the usual length, the dining top and just a few tents, enough ​to provide for the comfort of both beast and man, will be set up. The big top and all the side-show tents will remain on the trains until Monday morning. So it happened that Freckles had many a delightful Sunday after the long week's work, for Mr. Williams kindly allowed him to ride Dapples about the country on these days. It was a good advertisement for the circus, and it kept both boy and horse in fine condition.
After the week's strenuous work, the circus people were glad enough to have Sunday come around. Some of them even put on their best clothes and went to the nearest church.
It was a restless, feverish life that they lived, and at first Freckles found it rather tiring, although he liked it immensely. But he soon got used to the excitement and to sleeping on moving trains, so that in two months it was second nature to him. It even would have seemed strange ​to climb into a bed that stayed still while he slept.
Mr. Williams was anxious to have the boy attempt to learn bareback riding, but he did not seem to care for it. After a few futile attempts it was decided that he had better stick to the exhibition driving and the trick-pony stunts. But he did teach Sir Wilton several new tricks.
At the manager's suggestion some fine photos of Freckles and Dapples were taken, and after each performance the boy would ride about on the small horse, selling these pictures. In this way they made many friends for the circus. They even had invitations to dine out, but the management always preferred that they should eat at home. Performing was not a succession of frolics, and all had to stick closely to the work in hand.
Among the athletes who interested Freckles was a young man called on the circus posters "Flying Fred." He was a spring-board jumper and somersault man. ​He was a jolly, good-natured chap, always smiling. His greatest stunt was to jump over ten elephants standing side by side, and, as he jumped, he turned a double somersault. Like Freckles, he was an orphan.
He often confided to Freckles that it was his life's ambition to make the triple turn, but Freckles did not really appreciate the daring of the neck-breaking stunt. The management had always refused to let Flying Fred try it. They knew of too many good athletes that had died in the attempt. But Flying Fred bided his time and took no one into his confidence.
One morning, just after Freckles had been in the ring, putting Sir Wilton through some new tricks, to his surprise the ten huge elephants came marching in. This was unusual, so he stopped with Dapples beside the farther ring to see what was up.
The spring-board was in place, and Fly​ing Fred was limbering up with some preliminary jumps. He had told the manager that he wished to try a new arrangement of the elephants. He thought it would be possible to place them farther apart, and so make his jump longer and more spectacular. At last the management had reluctantly consented to the experiment.
But Flying Fred had kept his real purpose safely hidden in his own mind. Freckles finally led Dapples over close to the other ring, that he might get a better view of the jump.
It looked to him like a terrible leap, but these marvelous athletes did such unbelievable things that he did not doubt Flying Fred would clear the elephants all right. At last all was ready. The signal was given and the spring-board was released.
With a bang the board flew up, and the athlete shot high in air. When he was at the highest point, he reached forward with his hands and locked them around his legs ​below his knees. Then they saw the muscles on his arms and back stand out as he strained to start himself to turning. Over he went with even more than the usual velocity. Again he turned, and then the circus people who were watching caught their breath, for he had started for the third turn, but was not quick enough.
Either the jump was not long enough, or his straining muscles were not working hard enough, for he made only half of the third turn and struck on his forehead in the net. There was a snap like the report of a pistol, and the circus people all went pale. A dozen men sprang to the aid of the foolish fellow. Carefully they lifted him and laid him on the grass. But he was past human aid, for his neck had been broken.
He was just one more victim on the long list that had paid the price for the dangerous experiment.
That noon at dinner Mr. Bingham spoke very seriously to his great family. ​There were tears in his eyes, and he had to stop more than once.
"Friends," he said, "I am more sorry than I have words to tell, for what has happened. I myself have several times warned the young man against trying this dangerous experiment. We did not even dream of what he had in mind, or we would have stopped him. The lives of our performers we value much higher than any new and daring stunt."
There was an incident that occurred during the parade in a small New England city which Freckles and Dapples never forgot. The dappled Shetland and the shiny phaeton always went just in front of the wagon carrying the lion cage. On this particular morning everything was going off just as usual. The bands were blaring, the calliopes shrieking, and clowns were shouting to make the people laugh, when of a sudden Freckles noticed a great commotion on the sidewalk just behind him. The disturbance was of such ​a wild character that he turned his head and looked back. The sight that met his eyes struck terror to his own soul, although he was acquainted with all the ways of the circus.
One of the strong doors on the lion cage had swung partly open, and Leo, the largest of all the lions, was in the act of springing to the pavement. Even as Freckles gazed thunderstruck at the sight, the mighty cat leaped lightly to the street. Women shrieked, and some of them even fainted. Men caught up small children in their arms and fled with them through the doors of the nearest store. There was such a scramble as the main street of that quiet city had never seen before.
Meanwhile the innocent cause of the panic looked fearfully about. He seemed as much disturbed and afraid as the spectators. Then, seeing a clear space for a few rods along the pavement ahead, he trotted directly alongside of the phaeton drawn by Sir Wilton. This was enough ​for Dapples, and he bolted. Freckles barely guided him by the wagon ahead, and then he brought up against a telephone pole and was thrown to the ground.
Freckles sprang out and sat upon his head until assistance came.
Just at this point in the melee two policemen appeared and began shooting at Leo with their revolvers.
They merely succeeded in wounding him slightly, but they did frighten him nearly to death.
Poor Leo, who had no savage intent toward any one, ran this way and that. Finally he spied a restaurant through whose open door a curious individual was peering out. It looked dark inside to the eyes of the hunted lion, and, before the onlookers realized what was happening, the great cat had reached the door with two springs and was through, sending the proprietor flat on his back.
As luck would have it, the eating-room was not filled with customers, as it would ​have been a little later, but several people were getting a hurried lunch preparatory to seeing the circus. A waiter had just appeared with a tray containing several cups of hot coffee.
As the beast in his flight made straight for him, the waiter hurled the tray of hot coffee full upon the lion's back. With a howl of pain the frightened beast dashed under a table, upsetting it, and sending the dishes crashing to the floor. This seemed to add to his fright, for he came out from under the table and made for the cellar door, which happened to be open, another waiter having just brought up a consignment of ice-cream.
Down the narrow stairs the terrified beast fled, taking the flight at two bounds. The proprietor of the eating-room by this time appeared, and locked and bolted the cellar door, making the escaped lord of the jungle a captive. Then the two policemen came and stood guard at the door.
By this time a report had spread on the ​street that poor Leo had killed two people in the restaurant, and that he was eating one of them in the cellar.
Luckily at this point two of the lion keepers appeared, and, armed merely with clubs, went into the cellar. They found the much-maligned lion hiding away in a dark corner.
He was finally roped and dragged from his place of hiding, put into a temporary cage, and then carried back to the circus lot. When he was given the chance to get back into his own cage, he was the happiest lion in North America.
The local paper afterwards described him as a ferocious beast that had narrowly missed killing half a dozen people. It told of how he had been captured in his native jungle with the loss of the lives of several natives, and congratulated the city on having escaped with such small damage. As a matter of fact, Leo had been the most frightened creature on Main Street that day. He had also been born in captivity, ​and many of the circus people had played with him when he was a cub. So you cannot always believe all you read about the circus.
Thus it was that day after day and week after week, the life of Freckles and Dapples went on. They were constantly on the move. The first thing in the morning they unloaded and hurried away to the circus lot, and the last thing at night they loaded again and were off. It finally became as natural to them as any other life would have been, but it was never monotonous, and although they did the same thing each day, yet the experience was never the same. Putting up the white tented city and parading, showing twice, and then hurrying for the freight station does not sound like an extended program, but when you move a hundred miles each night between stands, and meet new conditions at each new place, things are bound to happen that are not on the program.
More and more, as the days went by, ​Freckles learned to love the circus people. For the first time in his short life he experienced real love. Mr. Williams, Big Bill, the head canvas-man, the circus mother, and a dozen others Freckles claimed for his friends. Good friends they were, and true, for there is a sort of fraternity that attains in the circus. The hard daily grind and the risk that many of them run make them all brothers and sisters. That was why Mr. Bingham always called the circus people his family. They were always loyal to each other. If any one attacked any of the circus people, he attacked all. They stood together and they always stood for the circus.
With the children there was not a more popular feature in the whole show than the stunts of Freckles and Sir Wilton. They first attracted the little ones in the morning parade, and held their attention until the lights went out at night. This pleased Freckles greatly, for he had always felt himself as out of place in the world, but ​now he had found a work that was very pleasant, so the days and weeks were happy ones for both the boy and the little horse.