The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, September 12, 1897, Page 17

The SAN FRANCISCO, SUNDAY MORNING, SEPTEMBER 12, 1897, The Maid's Story. I know it isn’t just the proper aliow home people to think ti are going to the ““Heart of Ma matinee, and then slip away, all lonely, and go to the circus instesd what is a po going to do wher would rather go to a circ d is too nearly he s than to ea 1o serve as an excuse for some fu grown person enchanted place, and yet isn’t qu nough to haperone any of the small fry What I did was acantly and fixedly at ihe two > of Market street as the car wh in went clanging past the Baldw and then change at E her people, to t at took the gate s separated San Fran- The crash ng and clamor of the band were bea the air all about me I bought my tic and driving me tic with impa Some way c is like no other that I ever hea h my seems to havea language of its own, ny the performance w re of mo e, and the ou the great can- and can’t posubly see what is g on, it says so plaiuly that even the dest person cannot fail to understand it: “Hurry, burry, hurry! you'll miss the best partof tne show if you don’t get in here quicker than you can say ‘Jack o ace wh . are on de of te Robinson. that it took that tor- tly fifteen minutes to zive niece of pasteboard and fish up my , but finally he accompl'shed that serious undertaking, that music! Not sweet, harmonious, nor beautiful in any Jf life, and fire, and rushing st seems to me when , could ride a gallop- balanced on one foot elf all over the trapeze attitudes and turn e and quadruple—som- s and do all manner of possible and 0 e things, with that music to a company, inspire and urge me on. And to comwe right down to cold facts, if there is any one in all the wide worla ally and truly envy it is a rmer. Just think of traveling 1 over the country on a perpetual picnic, 1a te gypsy fashion, keeping be in a trunk, and not having e care except todo your own par- e act when the time comes! And it all Jooks so easy, too! I do be- lieve, if I had the courage to trv, I could do lots of thett that the circus women nor io myself. But what chance does a girl have that is bound down to music and and clogies and all such thi and domineered over by the fetish of “gooa society ? Mamma would have seven consecutive fits if I should even attempt to turn a comersault in her august presence — though I won’t deny that I have experi- mented a trifle in that line in my tume, where I knew I was safe from invidious ticism—and if she should catch me practicing standing on my head 1 am afraid the consequences would be de- cidedly deplorable of view. I was just an atom fluttery when I set- tled down into my seat, for 1 suddenly felt verv young and small and babe-in- the-wood-like in thatimmense tent among that crowd of absolute strangers. But be- fore the procession part was over with a lady reporter who has been at the house two or three times to see mamma about her societies, her charities and her “occa- sions,’” sat down in the chair beside me, and we chummed directly, and then I felt better. Idon’t care so much for the pageant business; it seems, some way, like serving the dessert before the soup, but I fairly went wild myself over the wild bessts’ performances. . 1 was norribly afraid every moment of the time. I was afraid that the beautiful, graceful, cruel cat creatures might elect to settle some ot their private gradges—of which they evidently have a Jarge number—in pubiic, and snarl up into a biting, clawing, roaring mass of bloody fur right there before my eyes. I was afraid that some of them might sud- denly realize what an easy thing it wou d be to spring over that network of fence and rcatter the grinning, staring crowd of two-legeed animals for whose amusement Z that is, from my point R are forced by ish fear to go through tricks that in their estimation must b2 undignified, silly, meaningless and distasteful. I was afraid that jaws or claws might take ft ana dead revenge on the handsome trainer or some ot his assistants, for humiliations past and present. I was in abject fear through it ali, in fact, but I liked it—oh, how I liketit! I liked the Ii.tle icy thrilis of terror which trickled over me whenever one of the re- luctant feline actors lageed in ins part and looked at the trainer sidewis: with flaming eves of hate and murderous spec- the, 2 sw ulation. I liked the quick heavy heart- throbs that shook me when the big-maned lion, Duke, struck out like lightaing with eai talons and snarled a momeantary ance at his tyrant; and when the jaguar, fancying himself unnoticed for the instant, crouched for the spring that ever-watchful eyes never allowed him to make. But most of all I liked the hot rush of relief and thankfulness that swept over me when the master kept his mastery and cowed the fier rebels into submission and obedience in as matter of fact a way as 1 wonld cuff the ears of a pet kitten that played too roughly. 1 sat there and shuddered, and gasped, and glowed, and gripped my neighbor’s knees in ecstasies of delight or horror until the riding lion—whose horseback exercise was evidently far from plsasing either to himself or his steed—retired from the pubiic gaze into the comparatively peaceful seclusion of his cage, and the helpiul elepkhant was patiently bunting nim and his companions out of the arena. Then I sat back and voiced the one wish of my heart. ~1 would give the world to speak to that lion-tamer,” 1 said, and that altogether lovely woman beside me declared *You shall.”” Ten minutes later a nice looking slender young fellow in a business suit and a high state of embarrassment appeared before us. The *‘power of the press” had sum- moned the lion-tamer and he had obeyed. Queerly enough, though, the man who rules lions and tigers and jaguars and leopards and panthers with moral suasion and a stock-whip with & pistol-shot snap- per on the end of it, and docsn’t seem to know- what fear is when surroundea by those treacherous and bloodthirsty beasts, was decidedly timia and uscomfortable in the presence of a harmless and necessary newspaper woman and a staring young girl. 1 really thought he was going to deli- ce right there; he didn’t. He got a grip on himseif after the first minute or two and decided that we were at least no more dangerous than the animals to which he was accus- tomed, and then lit- tle by little he to'd us about himself and his work. He told us how he was a little boy on a And They Tell What Kind of a Time They Spent. stony New England farm anli trained the animals there just for the fun of it, and how some dogs he trained were snapped up by a sidesnow, and how he himself not long aft r was snapped up by a circus. And then he told how he served his ap- prenticeship as general assistant and And then, after promisirg to let me pet the three months old lion cubs after the show was over, he went awar, as smiling and apparently light-hearted as if the prospect of being chewed or clawed to death by his unreliable associates was the pleasantest prospec: in the worl l. I was both sorry and glad when he went back into the circus world again; sorry because, being an arrant little coward myself, I simply adore brvery even when it degenerat into foulbardiness, and glad because those uncanny eves of his gave me the shivers whenever he hap- pened to look at me. Perhapsin tho e eyes lies the secret of the “power” which he claims, and seems to possess, over his fierce charges. Who knows? After thau I tried, in cross-eyed fashion and vainly, to keen track of what was go- ing on in all three rings at once, for it was all interesting, and wonderiul, and fasci nating — all but the lady clowns. I wouldn’t be found aead in such a make- up, and theirstrained voices and niminy- piminy ways didn’s suit me a bit. How- ever, the clowns don’t count much with me anyway; 1tis the other people that I g0 to see—the acrobats, and the aerialists, and the balancers, and the wire-walkers and the riders—the wonderful, woncerful riders, who fill my soul with envy by their grace and daring ana almost unbelievable skiil, and the beautiful, obedient, intelli- the lichtest movement of their mistress’ hand throuch all the frantic excitement of their wild gallop! And if you want to see strength and power look at the woman driver's bare, white arms; and if you want to see cool, concentrated courage and determination, look at her set, statuesque face and those somber, steely eyes. At lastit is all over. All the glitter and giow and whirl of events had come to an end, and there was left only one ordinary man in the ordinary garments of civiliza- tion, standing on the staze and piping as persuasively as he could about a concert which we would be permitted to see for the small sum of 10 cents each. Fancy tamely listening to anything of that kind at the close of such a perform- ance as we had been seeing. I wanted something that woula let me down alittle more easily to the prosaic realities of life and I hurried to see the evening feast of the animals; to watch them scramble and fight over their food, and hear them growl defiance at each other and the crowd of onlookers outside their cages. Oh, but wasn’t it delightful to be safe on the right side of the bars and then see those lions trying to tear up the floors of their dens in their frenzy of excitement and lashing their tails and beating their bodies against the steel rods as the smell of the meat came to their keen and q ering nostrils, I was disappointed in the Bovalapus, for he didn't eat meat at ali, only hay and mush mixed up with raw ezgs, and [ had been given to understand, pictorially, that his food in his native wilds was unforgu- nate and reluctant savages caught on the fly. Perhaps such diet would give him indigestion in confinement, where he has uothing to do but to gravitate from a tank of water to a platform and back again and chew gum, or something of the kind, and blink amiab'y at admiring spectators. But the lion cubs, those were the crown- ing glory of the afternoon. There were three of them, beautifut creatures, as large as water spaniels already, with clum-y paws the size of their trainer’s hands. He brought one to the door ot the cage and let me pat its head and stroke its soft coat, but it did not take kindly to petting from strangers, and one of those over- grown paws struck out at me with the sudder fierceness of a spiteful kitten, and the watchfulness of the man whose hands were clasped around its throat alone saved me from a scratch which would have been something to remember. “You can’t get the wildness out of them even when they are whelped in captiv- ity,” said the lion-tamer; *‘they hate us all, and I don’t much wonder, and if the y c&n ever get back at us in any way, at any time, they surely will.”” “And you are uot afraid ?” I asked, as 1 had asked before, and “'I can’t afford to be,” he answered again. And then he went out into the sunshine, and.l began to wonder if the lion-tamer was, after all, really much braver than I was myeelf, for I was going home to face mamma and tell her where and how [ had spent the afternoon. The Ma;on's Story. “Windin nuff?” blankly questioned the man in the red and gold painted box above my head. I nodded, endeavoring the while to rid my eye of the sawdust so that I might gaze into the face of him who guards the circus by day and by night and sells tick- ets to those who carnot crawl under the tent nor pass as members of the press. “More's a-comin’,” he murmured apa- thetically as & fresh cyclone whizzed around the corner, and I fled into the gate sighing loudly, that *‘more usually was a-comin’. Since the days when men—especially at- taches of a circus—had closely resembled gods in my sicht and had seemed to possess unlimited power, I had not vis- ited the show which is conceded to be the most wickedly. glamourous thing upon earth. My mind was still tenacious of the idea that the way intoa circus tent was intricate and devious and that the bit of paper, which entitled me to pass beyond the portal, through the tent cf the ani- mals and down the way lighted by a flar- ing torch into the sacred ‘“one reserveda seat,” must be displayed to each one of the blue-suited, brass-bnttoned and oddly batted gods with whom I met. And after I had safely reached the haven I looked back, and with that backward glance my illusions of the past were dis- peltea. It is bard to "'grow up” suddenly, but I went ferwerd again with the realiza- tion of my age full upon me. I TRCE T e e U g The circus tent proper was possessed by a band, in which each separate player seemed 1o be racing with his fellow to reach the final stop. Bright colored bunt- ing was stretched from side to side acros the ceiling of the tent. Beneath and over the tbree rings and the stage gleamed and glittered the lights, and the gleam and glitter were reflected back from the sea of faces that lined the tier above tier of seats stretching with scarcely a break about the great place. The air was tente with expectant curiosity, and now and then above the sound of the band could be near the hriil plai ntof a baby’s cry. “Not a seat left,” said the gentleman with the genuine smile as he beckoned us. We skirted the crowd, walking through the soft earth thatclung to us, and close by this slight man with the small well- formed features and blue eyes, whose only weapon was a tiny whip. It needed no childish imagination to make the performance wonderful. The supremacy of mind over matter is always o interest, but when that matter is en- dowed with life and a massive jaw and sharp teeth, and the desire to attack you, it is somewhat different. And how they bhated him—hated him with every fiber of their great, lithe, beau- tiful bodies, and crept up upon him when he turned his back. and hurried to their places when he turned his eyes upon them again. “I want to talk to him,” I said. The manager laughed. “All right,’’ hereplied ; “‘but he'd rather go into that cage a dozen times than meet you.” Which remark was wonderfully candid, butscarcely complimentary, nevertheless. While the lady clown in white satin Turk- ish trousers and spangles stood on the top of the cage and sang « mournfully humor- ous song, I watchced him with heightened admiration as he ordered the animals into the cage. But I met him for a second during an intermission, and although he d'd tremble he answer:d my questions with an unassuming modesty and such cood grac.ousness that it won my heart. From the peace and homeliness and sober that it was sarrounded by clowns. I had only seen them in the light before. Inab- surd costumes and grotezque makeup, with whitened skin and painted smiie they leaned wearily against the poles of the tent or sat upon wiatever was handy, bending over.with their heads in their hands. Only the eves looked out from all the sham with the human exvression in them “tired,” I thought as I watched them gather themselves together und race into the +ight of the people, to the wild delight of the children. How their gleeful voices rippled through the great tent, and their little hands beat in tiny applause, which was infectious. One tall fellow in blue pelka dot and spangles watched the little smile-wreaihed faces as he passed and I wondered how giaa he would be to leave his heart and understanding in the shelter of their joy and do 'is work without. For he doesn’t need them—day after day and night after night, year after year, it is the same. We are bored with a twice re- peated joke, even though we do the re peating ; but oh, the monotony of trying to make the populace laugn aiways, with the same jokes and the same actions. And the few pitiiul alterations must make the monotony worse. But once a clown what can he be else unless a king's fool? and kings are not prolific enough to make the business profitable. And then, again, he must laugh, and if years take away our childish way of seeing their merit we laugh at the laughter of the children and forget the understanding. So we turned from the clowns and went back into the tent where the trained horses waited. Beautiful animals they were, with sleek coats and such well- rounded forms. Mischievous, too, for their knowing heads came toward us and their hind legs went into the air just close enouzh to miss us. In the center were the two chariots, each hitched to four thoroughbreds, and behind them, seated behind a table, was a Jarge woman in a short waist, with a’strange arrange- ment made oi paper flowers on her head. “Mrs. Abrams, whodrives this chariot,” said the manager by way of introduction. Mrs. Abrams came from her charr. “Do you think you could drive one?” she asked. “There are no springs, you see, and if it goes into a rut it will over- turn. Then you must know how to stand and brace yourself or you will be thrown out. Step inand I will show you.”” 1 stepped into the little insecure box and planted my feet as she told me; then, with the keeper at tieir heads, the horses walked leisurely to the door. 1 have riiden in a hay wagon over a rough down grade, with the horses at good speed, and I have also ridden in the Montgomery and Sansome street cars, but never have | been so sure that my joints were coming apart and my teeth were in- secure, or that the earth had such strong attraction for the back of my head as dur- ing those few feet. Mrs. Abrams laughed. ‘“You see.’ she said, “it isn’t exactly a pleasant sensation unless you are used to it. As I drove out the other day a little child called out, *Mamma, that's what Moses went to heaven in, isn’t it? But,” she laughed, putting her hand on the gilded outside, *I don’t think it was the same make.” “#Nor1.” And I f«It of my neckand shut my teeth as she led the way to the ladies’ dressing-room. it was as large as an ordinary-sized room, and separated from the men’s dress- ing-rooms by a cur- tain of canvas. About “the place, at inter- vals of a few feet, were placed small- sized trunks with SBEED open lids, inside of which was a small looking-glass. Before each trunk, on a chair or a camp-stool, sat the owner, busily dressing for the next turn or un- uressing from the last. Perhaps,” I saia, hesitating and taking in the various stages of costuming, *I had better wait."” *We don’t mind,” the one who sat near- est said, and it was she who had ridden 80 beautifully in yellow tights, and now she had thrown something abcut ber and had her costume in her hand. “Wedon’t mind,” sne said, ‘‘if you haven't a kodak.” And I confess to wishing that I had. And I had come to see if they were tired; if the skill and dash and happiness were all on the outside. The lady clown was looking through her trunk for some misplaced article, with a look on her face which would have proven positively a case of mistaken identity. The lady nor- tion of the stable was all dressed, and sar, her face as white as her gown, list- lessly staring at nothing in particular. The tight-rope performers pinned flowers in their hair and donned their tights silently. “Don’t they take cold ?”’ I questioned. “They get used toit. Itshard in wet weather, orin a cold climate, but this is lovely here.”” And I lookea at the ovpenings in the tents,and the wind whistled through with allits chilly might and 1 drew my furs about me and went out. A little stripling in pink and white tights stood waiting to be introduced when I came out. “Louie Vernon,” said the manager, “'the pet of the circus.” He smiled into my face and told how he liked to do trapeze work and what fuc it was 10 go flying through the air. “And you are not afraid ?"" His childish eyes brichtened. course not. I like it. I'd always and I never get tirel.”” “‘A Iittle genuiae performer,” said the manager, as he led the way back into the large tent. And it must have been genuine, for the little fellow did feats that were marvelous, and was tossed through the air in a wav that was marvelous and came up smiling every time and waved his hand to us from the hieh trapeze on whica he sat. And as he ran, lau hing, back to the dressing- tent some one said: ‘““Performers, like artists, are oorn, not made.” But they had begun to applaud before. SR e s e, “of itke to do it The circus closed with the races. Wildly exciting they were, and the peoule and the small boys cheered roundiy, and the band played. And while the tired per- formers dressed and carefully prepared for the morrow’s performance, and the man sold tickets for a negro minstrel show, I wandered forth into the night and into the tent of the *side show.” “Rob Roy, the white Moor,” sat on a vedestal, and beside bim was a drmm. The Infant Encyclopedia was romping about in high glee and refused to sit upon her pedestal until sne had to answer ques- tions. Prince:s Nora, the tiny little being, had her picture for sale and was greatly amused at everythin:in general. Mme. Alvarez, a Cuban insurgent, made paper flowers for sale with her photograph and preserved a preternatural gravity. The snake charmer sat on the same pedes:al that held her cage of snakes and looked bored. The other attractions were not yet ready for exhibition, but could be seen in the tent outside, laughing and talking. And I passed out into the night again. To be anything in the world that attracts the human mind, young or old, one must feign. Still marveling, I reached the gate., A crowd of small boys were assembled there, and one, a little braver tban the rest, hela the gates open and questioned with an eager look of admiration in his eyes: “Are you an actress?” And the way I fell in his estimation was fo swift and complete that I wish even yet I had feigned. R N R R N Wi