Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-03-23

Copyright, 1907. by Thomas Fl. McKee)
Scotty had the last draw from the yards.
and when the gilded den containing the
only giraffe in captivity was In its proper
station, he unlocked the eight grays for
their feed. 1t was quiet Sunday morning,
a springtime morning, with the dew gleam-
ing in the sparse grass of the lot" and
the raw edge Of the dawn-wind just be-
ginning to yield to the suns rays, gentle
and pleasing. The show had arrived in the
night. Now a few boys. with the sleep yet
in their eye-corners. stumbled across the
lot" gaping amid eagerness. From the
far fields seeming to leap out of a bank
of mist which had taken refuge in a grove,
came the sweet pealing of bells. And the
big top was going up, by special per-
init, and there waited the appetizing odor
of cooking from the kitchen-wagon.
Sunday" muttered Scotty. He went
down among the chests to find his clean
blue shirt. Soon he, appeared from the
dressing tent transformed. His hair was
brushed, his face was perfectly clean and
red from scrubbing. he wore suit of
checks which had once been silver until the
browns rebelled and reclaimed it, and he
conspicuously exposed the bosom of the
shirt of blue. scotty did not wear a collar.
business. Only the owner. the press agent
and the doubie-roll acrobats wore collars
(even on Sunday, and these were people out
of Scotty's class.
He lounged over to the entrance of the
womens tent where a moment before he
had seen Mother Belle, who had charge of
wardrobe mending. Mother Belle often re-
Taxed the dignity assumed with that impor-
tant post, remembering the days when she
| had been the wife of Blevins, the stable
boss, now dead, and she sometimes noticed
| the better of the show hands, always
| Scotty.
| Morning, mother" said Scotty pleas
| antly.
"Scotty l do believe you've got on your
| best Sunday clothes this morning..
| That's what, mother he replied cheer
| fully. feeling In a side pocket for his pipe
| Slowly he commenced filing his pet briar
| which was always a reflective operation
with Scotty He glanced out over the lot.
| Seems lust like the old Baltimore, Ell
| mother?" he suggested.
| We'll. there's some difference. mebbe. y
| she replied. Better lot than that one on
the Beair road, if l can recollect."
! Amt been Oh that Belair road lot since
the Adam Forepaugh days. You weren't
along then, mother
| Wasn't l. thought"
WAS you? Well wel-wardr p?
What did ye think, young man-loopin'
| tn loop?"
Scotty laughed, he had finished loading
| the briar and sucked at it comfortably.
Il remember, mother-sure you was
there all right was jokin'. An there was
Benny jackson. remember him? The fellow
what used to make the long swing from
the middle pole over to a trapee an back
again. Course We do. Broke his neck in
that act out in Columbus. By Christmas, /
saw him that night at six o'clock. that
very night an he was sparkin' a girl-an'
to think of it, At half past nine he was
dead an me carryin' him outer the ring.
1t made me sick, it did. Yes. an there was
Dave Oelrich, he"
Scotty paused, looking over the shoulder
Of his listener. He seemed to see some
thing as in vision. causing Mother Bellies
curiosity to become active, when she turned
to see for herself.
A young woman came toward them. She
was busily engaged in buttoning-gloves
Scotty had seen that she was prettily dress
ed, and that she had abundance of dark
red hair.
Thought 1 knew every one with this lay