. . . Hold on a minute. Now.
Now . . . That story the clown told that was so funny, that had
something to do with those hoops. I wish I could think of it. It
would make you laugh, I know.
People try to lay the blame of the modern circus's failure to
interest them on the three rings. They say so many things to watch
at once keeps them from being watching properly any one act. They
can't give it the attention it deserves. But I'll tell you what's
wrong: There isn't any Funny Old Clown, a particular one, to give
it human interest. It is all too splendid, too magnificent, too
far beyond us. We want to hear somebody talk once in awhile.
They pretended that the tent was too big for the clown to be heard,
but I take notice it wasn't too big for the fellow to get up and
declaim "The puffawmance ees not yait hawf ovah. The jaintlemanly
agents will now pawss around the ring with tickets faw the concert."
I used to hate that man. When he said the performance was not yet
half over, he lied like a dog, consarn his picture! There were
only a few more acts to come. He knew it and we knew it. We wanted
the show to go on and on, and always to be just as exciting as at
the very first, and it wouldn't! We had got to the point where we
couldn't be interested in anything any more.
Pages:
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196