Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1897-08-21
ONLY AN ACROBAT.

Inc ltSt HlSnG OI tno season dU IDe
Hippodrome ct Menagerie des Nations
in that laughter loving and light heart
ed city of cities-Paris.
Well might the proprietor, the genial
Artelio Milandri, hum tune as he con-
tentedly counted the "takings," for
there was not seat to spare. One sim
mering, swetering mass of gay Paris
ians, patiently waiting the idol of ev-
cry European capital, the one and the
only, the inimitable Paolo.
Paolo, better known to his friends
and associates as Bob Sinclair, was a
young Englishman-aw well set up, fresh
colored, curly haired Yorkshire lad
Apprenticed as a tiny boy to the pro-
prietor of travelling circus, he had
willy-nilly, gone through the mill, now
horseman, now acrobat, now clown,
now ringmaster, anything and every
thing. A day came at length when, TAX
ing advantage of the "strong man"
craze, Bob's muscles, thews and sinews
suddenly launched him into fame, and
as "Paolo, the English Hercules" he
blossomed into the sought after "star, :"
whom the crowded houses had paid
their hard earned francs to see.
When Paolo stepped into the ring,
the public enthusiasm knew no bounds
1t would be only taking up space to de-
scribe the strong man" performance,
which is now so familiar to every body
Though Paolo worked that night as
cleverly as usual and without any ap-
parent effort to the eyes of the onlook-
ers, yet within himself he felt weighed
down by strange foreboding that some
thing unusual was about to happen, and
he felt really relieved when at last his
performance was finished, and he was
at liberty to return once more to his
dressing room.
Scarce had the heavy velvet hangings
separating the ring from the 'back" !"
of the house fallen behind him when
his "dresser" rushed breathlessly up to
him, his knees almost shifting together
and terror comforting every feature of
his countenance.
Heaven help us, M. Paolov he
gasped. "What shall we do? Scipio
has got loose from his cage and is max
ing for the arena. 1t is the only outlet
were he can escape, and le bon Dieu
alone can save us!"
Scipio was huge lion, purchased as
a cub by Milandri for exhibition to the
patrons of his menagerie. Owing to
some carelessness in the fastening of his
cage door, the beast had managed to
escape, and, attracted by the smell of
the horses, was now making his way to
the arena, OH the opposite side of which
the stables were situated. What could
Paolo do?
Beads of perspiration stood upon his
forehead as he thought of the effects of
a sudden stampede among that vast con-
course; how in their wild alarm hun
dreds of women and children-aye, and
strong men too-would be crushed and
trampled to death.
"Where are Francois, Jean, Pierre
and the rest?" he asked.
"All flown, IN sieur; all escaped"
"Now listen," he said to the attend
ant. "You are the only one who has
shown any pluck, and I won't forget
you. Get through my dressing room
NlHuoW, Iuu ds lasG ds your legs can
carry you to the barracks at the end of
the road, tell the officer on duty what
has happened and ask for help. In the
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS will do my
best for Mr. Scipio."
AS the last sound of the mans hurry
ing feet down the passage proclaimed
him we'll on his way for help, Paolo has
tily snatched up a small stiletto which
had been used in juggling trick during
the evening and, concealing it in his
vest, stepped once more, to the astonish-
ment and delight of the audience, into
the arena.
Whispering few hasty directions
into the ear of a clown who was filling
i'll between the turns" to stop the next
artists from appearing and to close the
stable entrances, Paolo made bow
and, holding up his hand for silence,
announced:
Ladies and gentlemen, l cannot
thank you sufficiently in words for the
kindness with which you have received
my efforts tonight, so as deeds speak
louder than words l shall bring before
you for the first time in public my IA
nous trained lion He and 1 will give
an exhibition of wrestling. All. you