Gloucester County Democrat. (Woodbury, N.J.) 1878-1932, 1906-08-30


straining up long hill He could al
most feel them pulling back on re
traces in a sort Of wooden Stubborn
ness. And when the team ratified the
old chariot down q rough grade how he
hoped that two or three of the figures
might be joted off But In the morn
ing, when the show lot was reached
and the travelling wraps taken off the
wagons, there he would see the heavy
shouldered Pans all in their places as
hideous and as permanent as ever.
1t was a hard and bitter lesson which
Calico learned, this matter of keeping
Dne's tugs tight Uncle Enoch had
spared the whip, but In the heart Of
Broncho Bill, who drove the band wag
on, there was no leniency. Ready and
strong was his whip hand, and he
knew how to make the blood follow the
lash. No effort did he waste on fat
padded TANKS when he was in earnest.
He cut at the ears, where the skin is
tender. He could touch up the leaders
as easily as he could the wheel horses,
and when he aimed at the swings he
never missed fire.
travelling with round top Calico
found to be no sinecure. The Grand
Occidental, being wagon show, moved
wholly by road. The shortest jump was
fifteen miles, but often they did thirty
between midnight and morning, and
thirty miles over country highways
make no short jaunt when you have q
five ton chariot behind you. The jump.
however, was only the beginning of the
days work. No sooner had you finished
breakfast than you were hooked in for
the street parade, meaning from two
to four miles more.
You had a few hours for rest after
that before the grand entry. All, that
grand entry! That was something to
live for. No matter how bad the roads
or how hard the hills had been Calico
forgot it all during those ten delightful
minutes when, with his heart beating
time to the rat-tat-tat Of the snare
drum, he swung prancingly around the
yellow arena.
1t all began in the dressing tent with
a period of confusion in which horses
were crowded together as thick as they
could stand, while the riders dressed
and mounted in frantic haste, for to be
late meant to be fined. At last the
ringmaster clapped his hands as sign
that all was in readiness. There was
a momentary hush. Then a bugle
sounded, the flaps were thrown back
and to the crashing accompaniment OF
the band the seemingly chaotic mass
unfolded into a double line as the
horses broke into d sharp gallop around
the freshly dug ring.
The first time Calico did the grand
entry he felt as though he had been
sucked into a whirlpool and was being
carried around by some irresistible
force. So dazed was he by the music,
by the hum of human voices and by
the unfamiliar sights that he forgot to
rear and kick. He could only prance
and snort. He went forward because
the rider of the outside horse dragged
him along by the bride rein. Around
and around he circled until he lost all
sense of direction, and when he was
finally shunted out through the dress
ing tent flaps he was SO dizzy he could
scarcely stand.
For horse accustomed to shy at his
own shadow this was heroic treatment.
But it was successful. In month you
could not have startled Calico with
pound of dynamite. He would placid
" MUNICH his oats within three feet of
the spot where stake gang swung the
heavy sledges in staccato time. He
cared no more for tapping canvas than
for the wagging of mules ears. AS
for noises, when one has associated
with a steam calliope one ceases to
mind anything in that line. Old Ajax,
it was true, remained terror to
Calico for weeks, but in the end the
horse lost much of his dread for the
ancient pachyderm, although he never
felt wholly comfortable while those
wicked little eyes were turned in bis
direction Hereditary instincts, you
know, die hard.
During those four months in which
the Grand Occidental fitted over the
New England circuit from Kendus-
keag, Me-, to Bennington, Vt, there
came upon Calico knowledge of many
things. The farm horse to whom Ban
gors market square had been full of
strange sights became, in comparison
with his former self, most sophisti-
Gated. He feared no noise save that
sinister whistle made by Broncho Bills
long lash. The roaring sputter Of gas
oline flares was no more to him than
the sound of running brook. He had
learned that it was safe to kick
mere canyasman when you felt like
doing So but that real artist, such as
tumbler or trapeze man, was to be
respected and that the person Of the
ringmaster was most sacred; alss he
acquired the knack of sleeping at odd
times, whenever opportunity offered
and under any conditions.
When he had grown thus wise and
when he had ceased to stumble over
guy ropes and tent stakes Calico re-