Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1875-02-24
THE CANVASMAN'S STORY.

THE CANVASMAN'S STORY.
Nothing takes like circus; and ours
takes better than anybody's I can tell
you. I am only an understrapper new,
you know, but the guvnor did the right
thing by me, and, of course, I do the
right thing by him. You see, we al
ways make good fuss in the shape of
we'll billing the places we are going to,
for it doesn't do to be stingy in that
way, and the guvnor has some spicy af-
fairs of rampajous horses, and wonder
full jumping, and all in colors to ketch
the eye; while for the shop windows
there's some Autographs of the per-
forming horse, or the helephant, OF the
gutta- percha brothers tied in a human
knot, while every one who exhibits has
a ticket fol free admission.
But it's queer life, sir, and one not
to be nvied-only, you see, one must
live; and when there's wife and some
little uns, why they must live too; and
having been in the profession all my
life-why, it don't seem as if [ could
do anything out.
There, now then, them's two of mine
coming in the ring now. First ones
IL, and t'other's 9. ''The Pigmy
Twisters, We call 'em in the bill, and
they don't do amiss for their size. Pitch
a somerset easy, either one of them.
There they go, you see; and after
another year or two's eddication they'll
be great help to the family, besides
having profession of their own to
make 'em independent when they won't
stop in the nest any longer. All they've
got to do is to keep clear of their IA
theirs accident get hip-ioint put
out, as did, and then the country doc
tor to say as it was strain, and never
try to put it in until it was too late-get
in for an accident like that through
treading on a piece of orange-peel, aud
slipping when running for a jump, why
it's doer-up for life, as with me.
But it is a queer life. sir. No rest,
no comfort, no peace at all. Hotel
always, and say, now here's to-day:
Long distance to come and we had to
start early to get here in good time;
then there was to dress and take part
in the procession at one o'clock. Two
o'clock, you know, was the first per-
Torrance. That was over about four;
and then, of course, there was beginning
again at half-past seven. All! and no.
body knows but them as has been at it,
what being about in the cold, wet
weather is-dressing and undressing in
a canvas tent, with the wind cutting
through, and then hopping over the
mud to get in the damp ring, when
you re ready to shiver as you slip about,
if the weather has been very bad. Well,
you get your part through, and then,
nine cases out of ten, what sort of
place have you to go into? Why, one
where there's no rest for you on account
of it's being busy night because of the
circus, and the house full. So, p'raps
you get an hour or two's sleep, p'raps
not, according to circumstances.
AS for me, you know, I'm one Of the
tent men; for though one leg shorter
than the other makes me limp good
deal, I'm strong, you know, and my job
is to see the tent up. You've noticed
us strike it as fast as ever we can as
soon as the performance Is nearly over.
Well, there's deal to do over that, [
can tell you; for look at the weight of
the great tent, and it's poles and ropes;
besides which it is most always wet, and
so ever SO much heavier than If it was
dry. [ think sometimes as we have
least rest of any one, but then we take
it In turns, and sleep in the wagon 60
ing from town to town, and that very
refreshing when once you get used to
it. At first, you know, it's decidedly
rheumatic, and makes you very queer;
but you soon get used to it; and can
stand anything now in the shape of wet
and cold. The women feel it worst,
poor things; but they seldom grumble,
and puts up with everything most pa
tient-no matter what it is; and they
have some hard times of it when the
weather's bad.
The people come to see and be
Fancy, then, being the clown, and com
ing on with bad toothache, or vio-
lent cold in the chest, or racked SO with
rheumatic pains at every moments
agony. Just fancy all that, in cold
spring time, which is the time when
you feel the cold most. But there, you
can't fancy it, you people who always have
comfortable homes and fire In 'em. l
can, though, alb and realize it, too, for
I've been through it all. 1 begnn life
with my father In circus.
Little slip of chap I was then, in
tights, and bit of paint on each
chalked cheek, to make me look like
clown; and then I never knew what it
was to be afraid, while he took me up
on one OF the old piebald horses, and
held me on his shoulder, or under his
arm, or stood me on his head, or out at
full length upon his hand, and ME all
the time with my little arms folded. and
standing as still as rod.