The midland journal., 1903-08-21
TIE Circus
Come to
BzxrrSx,i1le
II HEY passed up the high stree
By MARGERY WILLIAMS
Copyright, 1908, bp Ma,yery Williams
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T HEY passed up the high street
of the little town two abreast,
hot, dust grimed and jaded.
The August sun beat down on
tawdry dresses, cheap gorgeousness
wearing to rags, sun blistered paint
and gilding-the whole stale and busi-
nesslil1e pageant of the biggest show
on earth. Small awed boys lined up
along the sidewalk to watch them go
past. Heads were thrust out of win
dows. The barbers assistant lounged
in the shop doorway, shirt sleeved and
supercilious, his hands in his pockets.
The steam organ, mounted on a car
having gilded lions heads set between
panels of dusty looking glass and
drawn by six plebeian horses with
scarlet trappings, wheezed a popular
air of a season past, strident and high
pitched, with deep, unexpected rum
blings and clash of cymbals in the
bass. Its voice drowned the nearer
sounds of progress, clink of hoofs and
creak of numbering wheels.
Rosy-you are my poSy!
You are-my hearts bouquet!
Come out-here in the moonlight!
The girl who rode the tall bay horse
just behind the organ was scarcely
conscious of the cheap refrain dinned
into her ears persistently over and
over,again for the past half hour-for
many hours during many weeks. She
let the reins slip through her fingers
idly as the horse bent his head this
way and that, tidgeting sidewise to the
music. She had a pleasant face, in
which the lines of hard work had oblit-
Grated something of the youth that
might under easier conditions have
made for prettiness. Her eyes, under
the cavalier hat with dropping plume,
were scanning eagerly each turn and
corner of the little old fashioned street.
How familiar it all was. Here was the
corner confectioner's and there the fan
cy shop kept by the old lady with ring
let's. Nothing was changed in the five
years since she had last seen it. Life
here seemed to go on smoothly in the
one groove, undisturbed by outer hap
penings, from spring to spring, summer
to summer; always the peaceful sun
light, children playing, men and wo-
men going contentedly and quietly
about their work.
For a moment the old home feeling
gripped her strongly, weary reaction
of spirit against the restlessness the
comings and goings, the monotonous in
40 hijifJr Of Ior to ha
ally on the road and never to reach
the journeys end, to be here today
and gone tomorrow, always new faces,
new surroundings, new discomforts.
The clumsy, numbering car before
her. its cheap gliding and shabby splen-
DOR had faded, and instead she was
seeing an old, quiet garden, with sun
light sitting through pear boughs to
the kindly, homely disorder of growing
things below and a small child in a
gingham pinafore who sat there play
ing. She had doll beside her, propped
stif1ly against the tree trunk-a broken
nosed doll, with tishy eyes and staring
complexion. The dolls dress was of
the same check gingham as the childs
lAduc VIII lOug,
gaping stitches. Overhead, through
the branches of the old pear tree,
showed a blue April sky with small,
fleecy clouds drifting.
The cavalcade had come to a mo-
mentary halt. In the pause the steam
organ sounded with renewed energy.
The man who rode level with the girl
resettled his tapping hat farther back
upon his head and passed a dust
grimed hand across his forehead. 1t
was very hot. His horse sheered to-
ward the side of the road and he
jerked at its mouth with q weary
farmyard OATH relic of some agricul-
tural boyhood.
Near to the curb stood black horse
between the shafts of a light dogcart.
A man who achieved an air of pros
perity in his summer suit and straw
hat had come out from a shop at the
approach of the noisy gilded organ,
and stood at the horses head, soothing
it. The steam organ throbbed and
shouted like vulgar red and gold
demon, beginning each line of the eter-
nal refrain with Il fresh clang and
shock of sound. Its presence here In
the quiet street seemed an insult, an
afTront. The man standing by the
horses head lifted his eyes to the
halted procession, and for the space
of second they encountered those of
the girl in the cavalier hat. He looked
away instantly, and, STOPPING down,
began careful readjustment of some
buckles on the black horses harness.
He took long time over it. When at
last he lifted his head the cayalcade
had passed on.
She had changed her dusty riding
habit for plain cotton blouse and
serge skirt and had slipped away In
this hour before the afternoon show
for a quiet walk alone.
The little street seemed to browse,
deserted. Behind her in the big field
beyond the town where the dingy tents
had sprung up mushroom-like since
noon she had left the noise, the cheap
glitter and glare, trampled grass and
Emell of ropes and sawdust She could
still hear the voice of the circus organ,
cheerful, aggressive, grinding out its
perpetual invitation. assaulting the
summer quiet with brazen hootings.
She turned up a side street that led
away from the town. Houses became
fewer; she passed blacksmiths shop,
with white cottage adjacent, and