Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-10-10


Nm A They m o k e
kNA " their corn-cob
pipes and spoke with that delfoerauon
New England villages.
do you allow that the boss" asked
TulIy. will let us off tomorrow to go to
the circus?"
ct don't know" said Barlow, whether
he will or no; and 1 don't care. 1 don't
want to see the show much anyhow. but
some time tomorrow I'm going to call on
the manager and ask him for job
with the show? Why. what could
you do in circus troupe?" Tully asked.
Lots of things" answered Barlow
GIVE worked in stable the best part Of
two years. and can pound a stake as far
in the ground as most, imagine. don t
want to be a performer"
We'll. I suppose you do know horses
and you're a good, handy man. but
Tully stopped and pulled slowly on his
pipe.
"WelI?" asked Barlow.
WELL" his friend answered. 1.-The cir
Gus Is no place for Dave Barlow. Your
father and mother would turn in their
graves if they knew their own son was
consorting with women who paint their
faces and wear spangles and tights and
things 1t amt Sooo, lave, teA YOU
1t amt good"
We'll. is it good here? Is 1t good to
work in a stable all summer and job a
few days in the fall at dollar day.
brushing up leaves in the streets, and
then sit indoors all winter and starve and
only wait for the summer folks to come
again and the stable to open up?"
Well" answered Tully, sit maynt be
much of life. but it's clean and it's hon
est. Why. this very town. way back some
of fn1l
Davy. you can't leave II"
Il got to leave it," answered Barlow.
81 can't help 1t if it was named after my
folks. I'm not like them. not a bit. tell
you. this town of Bartows is no place for
NE. It's all right for you. You're going
to get married and settle down just like
the rest of them. tell you I'm starving.
It's too little for me. hate the place and
I hate the miserable gray houses and l
hate the people"
Barlow reached out his hand and laid
1t gently on the shoulder of his friend.
But that don't go for you. Tuly. and
You know It, know you're my pal al
ways, my good Old pal. But tell YOU
I'm cramped here, and I've got to get
away where there's more breathing
space
Tully looked up and nodded. II know.
Davy-rve been afraid of it for long
time. You always were different from the
rest OF us. You were just like the summer
folks: better than some Of them. You even
dressed like them and talked like them.
and some of them were your friends. And
why shouldn't they be? There's no better
blood in New England.
. Don't you worry about that" Bar
tow answered quickly. Pm going to get
rich; my relatives can have the family
tree. root and branch, for all care. Look
out here comes the runabout."
The next day. while the afternoon per-
formance was going on, Barlow hunted
up the manager Of the circus and told
him his wishes. The manager looked over
the broad frame in front of him and
asked the young man a few questions
about his experience with horses. When
he learned that David had worked for two
years in a livery stable he engaged him
to start in that same night as one of the
tentmen of Wilber's Great Allied Shows.
Barlow returned to the livery stable.
and at supper time he and Tully walked
over TO the latterS cottage to take their
last meal toget her. After an hour of al
most complete silence Barlow put on his
Rat and threw his satchel over his Shout
der
But after the show closes you'll come
back" asked Tully.
Not if 1 can help it. If can't get
Job in the winter quarters TIL go on to
one of the big cities and take chance.
Don't walk back with me. I'd rather begin
1t alone" And SO Tully remained where he
was, leaning against the door frame OF
their old home, anu watched the tall.
broad figure of his friend disappear in
the shadows of the night.
At the end of week 1t seemed to Bar
tow that he had been In the circus bust
ness all of his life-a state Of mind
probably brought on by the never-chang-
ing routine and the fact that his duties
consisted solely in the old work of looking
after horses. Neither his natural inclina-
lions nor the glimpse he had already had
of his fellow-workers had urged him to
anything approaching an intimacy. The
tentment were too rough to be considered;
their virtue rested In their ability to drive
stakes and fight the toughs in every vii
1age they visited, and neither accomplish
ment David thought. seemed to fit them
for a close companionship. Three times q
day he took his place at the long table in
the eating tent and ate ravenouSly of the
simple fare provided him. The two long
lines Of strange people facing each other
at the rough table had at first mildly in
terested him, but now II seemed quite
right that he should be sitting in uncom-
Portable proximity TO the fat lady and to
have the "What-Is-It" across the way,
signaling for the bread with the strange.
uncanny gestures of the idiot born. The
giant had become an unconsidered bully
OF fabby bulk and Mile. Pom-Pom. the
'fearless equeStrienne," a deaf mother of
the red haired boy who sold the lemonade
S-just a faded beauty OF the south. who
spoke forever Of the grandeur of her
fathers place before the war. And so it
was that Barlow came to forget the
warped forms OF those about him. and the
white eyelashes and the pink eyelids of
the albino boy, and the blue-black leer-
Ing god on the breast Of the tattooed man
He came TO see only the pupil in the eyes
OF these strange people and to hear only
the childish prattle of this world apart.
IT was not quite a fortnight after Bar
tow had Joined the circus that he and Miss
Marguerite Montmorency. slack-wire per-
former, sat facing each other at belated
breakfast in the eating tent. Two sepa-
rate combinations of circumstances had
made them very late for their morning
meal. and the long white tent. bathed in
orange sunlight. was otherwise deserted.
Miss Marguerite Montmorency was
young woman not yet turned twenty and
her beauty was beyond dispute. AS a
matter Of fact. her legal name was Mag
gle Durgan. but on account of certain
uIniculties with her family she had not
only broken the usual home ties. but had
severed the last remaining link by chang
Ing the Dlebeian Durgan into Montmo-
rency. and substituting the euphonious
Marguerite for plain Maggie. The name
gracefully giants coat would fit a
pigmy. II wholly enveloped her and
would probably have crushed her alto
gether had not her wonderful spirits and
personal charms come to her aid and
helped her 10 carry on this self-imposed
burden.