Dorothy's House Party

This entrance was guarded by a wooden stile, from which a narrow canvas-covered passage led to the inner door. At the stile tickets were sold, and these were in turn taken up by the collector at the end of the passage which opened directly into the tent.

“Speaking of crowds! Was ever such another one as this!” gasped Melvin Cook, as he found himself in the swirl of persons seeming to move in two directions, as, indeed, they were. Then he looked around for his friends and to his consternation saw Molly Breckenridge tossed to and fro in a hopeless effort to extricate herself, and that she held one of the twins by hand, till suddenly the child fell beneath the very feet of the crowding adults.

“My baby! Oh! O-oh!” screamed Molly, and an instant’s halt followed, but the jam was to be immediately resumed.

Fortunately, however, that instant had been sufficient for tall Jim Barlow to stoop and lift the child on high.

“Hang on to me, Molly! I’ll kick and jam a way through. ’Twill be over in a minute, soon’s we get to the inside and have – you – got – your ticket?”

“Ye-e-es! But – but – I’ll never come to a circus – again – never – never – ”

“You haven’t got to this one yet,” returned Jim, breathlessly. Then he discovered Mr. Winters standing inside the tent, and extending his arms to receive the uplifted little one which Jim at once tossed forward like a ball.

At last they were all inside. The Master had been more fortunate in piloting his especial charges, Luna and Sapphira, through that struggling mob; but it was in a tone of deep disgust that he now exclaimed:

“Oh! the selfishness of human nature! A moment’s delay, a touch of courtesy, and such scenes would be avoided. The struggle for ‘first place,’ to better one’s self at the expense of one’s neighbor, is an ugly thing to witness.”

“But, Teacher, when you get in such a place you have to just do like the rest and act piggish, too,” said Alfaretta. “I guess I know now how ’t one them panics that you read about, sometimes, could happen. If one them jammers went crazy, or scared, all the rest would too, likely.”

“Exactly, Alfaretta. But, let’s think of pleasanter things. Let’s follow James.”

After all, though Mr. Winters had doubted there would be, the lad had secured reserved seats and on “the front row near the entrance,” just as that gentleman had desired; so presently, they had arranged themselves upon the low-down bench where, at least, their feet could touch bottom; and where with a comical air the farrier immediately began to sniff the familiar odor of fresh turned sod covered with sawdust, and turning to his next neighbor remarked:

“I think I’m nine years old, to-day, nine ‘goin’ on’ ten.”

But his facetiousness was wasted upon sedate Jane Potter; who did not even smile but reflected:

“If that old man’s going to talk silly I’ll change places with Alfaretta. And if the performance isn’t to begin right away I’ll just walk around and look at the animals’ cages.”

She did this, laying her handkerchief and jacket on her vacated seat, though her host called after her:

“You may not be able to get your place again, in such a crowd.”

However, if she heard she did not turn back and was presently out of sight in the line of promenaders continually passing. Also, his own face grew sober at the sound of thunder, and he clasped his arm more protectingly around Luna’s waist, who sat on his other side, and counselled Dorothy, just beyond:

“Do you and Molly keep close care of the twins. There’s a storm brewing and timid people may stampede past us toward the door.”

“Why, would anybody be afraid in a big tent like this?” asked Dolly, surprised.

“Some might. But – Hark! Hooray! Here we come!”

The band which had been playing all the time now broke into a more blatant march, a gaily accoutred “herald” galloped forth from a wide opening at the rear of the tent, then turned his steed about to face that opening, waving his staff and curveting about in the most fantastic manner. Then the silence of expectation fell upon that mass of humanity, the promenaders settling into any seats available, warned by men in authority not to obstruct the view of those on the lower benches.

As a cavalcade of horses appeared Mr. Winters looked anxiously down into Luna’s face. To his surprise it showed no interest in the scene before her but was fast settling into its habitual drowsiness.

“Well, after all, that’s best. We could not leave her behind and I feared she would be frightened;” he observed to Dorothy.

“Yes, I’m glad, too. Keep still, ’Phira! You must keep still, else you may be hurt. Wait. I’ll take you on my lap, as Molly has ’Nias. Now – see the pretty horses?” answered Dorothy, and involuntarily shivered as a fresh thunderclap fell on her ears.

Alfaretta leaned forward to remark:

“It’s begun to rain! But isn’t it cute to be under a tent and just let it rain! Ah! My soul! Ain’t they beautiful? Look, girls, look, them first ones is almost here! A-ah! them clowns! And monkeys – to the far end there’s real monkeys ridin’ on Shetland ponies! Oh! my heart and soul and body! I’m so glad I come!”

She finished her comments, standing up and swaying wildly from side to side, till somebody from the rear jabbed her shoulders with an umbrella point, loudly commanding: “Down front! Down front!”

She dropped into her seat with a shriek, which somebody somewhere promptly caught up and echoed, while at that same instant a flash of lightning illuminated even that interior which had grown so strangely dark, and on the instant came a terrific crash.

Another woman screamed, and Seth Winters’s face paled. He knew how very little it would now take to start a panic. But the band played the louder, the performers went round and round the great ring, the clowns frolicked and the monkeys pranked, and he inwardly blessed the discipline which kept every player to his post, as if such electric storms were every day incidents.

“What are those men doing to the roof?” suddenly demanded Molly Martin of her neighbor, James, calling his attention to the sagging canvas and the employees hurrying hither and thither to lift it on the points of great poles. Then would follow a splash of water down the slope from the central supporting pole of that flimsy roof, dashing off at the scalloped edges upon the surrounding ground.

“Water’s heavy. I guess they’re afraid it’ll break and douse the people. Hi! But that was a teaser! It don’t stop a minute and it’s getting blacker’n ink. Never heard such a roar and it don’t let up a second. They’ll have to stop the performance till it slacks up, and – What fools these folks are that’s hurrying out into that downpour!”

“Maybe – maybe – they’re safer outside. Rain won’t hurt – much – but circus tents are sometimes blown down – I’ve read – ”

“Now come, Alfy Babcock, just hold your tongue! Rough way to speak but I mean it. Hear what the Master said? How it was mighty easy to start a panic but impossible to stop one, or nigh so? Everyone that keeps still and behaves helps to make somebody else do it. Here, boy, fetch them peanuts this way? Dip in, Alfy, I’ll treat, and I see the lemonade feller’s headed this way, too. Whilst we’re waitin’ we might as well – ”

Even Jim’s philosophy was put to the test just then, for with a peanut half-way to his lips his hand was arrested by another terrific crash and the swishing tear of wet canvas.

CHAPTER XIII

IN THE GREAT KITCHEN

Still the band played on. The cavalcade paced round and round the ring, while a hundred workmen – it seemed – swarmed to the repair of the torn tent. Fortunately, the injured portion was that occupied as dressing rooms and stables for the performers, so that few of the audience suffered more than fright. Indeed, most of the spectators realized as Mr. Winters had done, the danger of panic and the wisdom of composure, so remained in their places.

Also, with the same suddenness that had marked its rising the storm ended and the sun shone out. One mighty sigh of relief swept over those crowded tiers of humanity, and the indefatigable band struck up a new and livelier note. The tight-rope dancer sprang lightly into the ring and went through her hazardous feats with smiling face and airy self-confidence; the elephants ascended absurdly small stools, and stood upon them, “lookin’ terribly silly, as if they knew they were makin’ guys of themselves,” so Mike Martin exclaimed, though he still kept his fascinated eyes upon their every movement. There was the usual bareback riding and jumping through rings: the trapeze, and the pony quadrille; in short, all that could be expected of any well conducted “Show,” while above all and below all sounded the clown’s voice in a ceaseless clatter and cackle of nonsense.

Laughter and badinage, peanuts and pink lemonade; men and women turned back to childhood, smiling at the foolishness enacted before them but more at their own in thus enjoying it; and the “Learned Blacksmith” who had pondered many books finding this company around him the most interesting study of them all.

It was this that he loved about a circus; and, to-day, at their first one, the faces of Ananias and Sapphira held his gaze enthralled.

“Dolly, Dolly Doodles! Do watch them!” he cried for sympathy in his delight. “Did ever you see eyes so bright? Mouths so wide agape? and happiness so intense! Ah! if those to whom they belong could see them now, all hardness would vanish in a flash!”

Dorothy looked as he desired, but her glance was less of admiration than of anxiety. She had seen what he did not see and was hearing what he did not; a face and figure somberly different from the tri-colored one of the clown, and a voice more raucously insistent than his.

All at once the twins also saw and heard. Their attention was clutched, as it were, from those adorable monkeys a-horseback, which had come once more to the very spot before where they stood, and whom in their baby-souls they envied frantically.

“HIM!” shrieked Ananias.

“H-I-M!” echoed Sapphira, all her pretty pink-and-whiteness turned the pallor of fear.

There was a flash of bare feet and blue-denimed legs and the terrified twins had leaped the velvet-topped barrier bordering the ring and were scurrying heedlessly away, how and where they cared not except to be safe from that “Him” whose memory was a pain.

“My soul! They’ll be killed – the little rascals!” cried Jim, and leaped the barrier, in pursuit.

“He can’t catch ’em! I’ll help!” and fat Monty rolled himself over the fence.

“What’s up, boys?” demanded Frazer Moore; and, perceiving, added himself to the rescuing party. Ditto, Mike; then Littlejohn and Danny. This was the chance of a lifetime! to be themselves “performers.” Only Melvin and Herbert rose, hesitating, amazed – and, seeing the little ones, whom everybody tried to catch and who eluded every grasp, in such imminent peril of trampling horse-hoofs, they also followed the leader.