(N18) The Jolly Clown
by
Marmaduke was lost. There was such a crowd around those tents! He wriggled between lots of pairs of legs, but nowhere could he find the Toyman’s.
Near the door of the tent stood a man with a big black moustache, and a silk hat on his head. He was selling tickets. The Toyman went up to him.
“Howdy,” said the Toyman.
“Howdy, pardner,” replied he.
“I’d like four tickets. Here is the money. One whole ticket and three half tickets too.”
The man counted the money and gave him the tickets. Then the Toyman asked:
“Did you see a little boy ’bout this high, with a little yeller dog?”
The man with the big black moustache and the tall silk hat shook his head.
“Sorry I can’t oblige you, pardner. I’ve seen lots of kiddies but nary a one with a yeller dog.”
“Well then,” said the Toyman, “will you kindly show these youngsters to their seats while I look for that little lost boy and his dog?”
“Certainly, be most pleased,” was the answer, for all circus men are very polite on Circus Day.
So the man with the black moustache and the tall silk hat called a man in a red cap. Jehosophat took Hepzebiah by the hand, and the man in the red cap led them into the big tent. He showed them their seats, and they sat down in the very front row.
Outside, the Toyman kept looking, looking everywhere. There was no sign of Marmaduke’s tow head nor of little yellow Wienerwurst.
They were on the other side of the tent, outside too, mixed up with men and women they didn’t know, and hundreds of boys and girls. They could see other men too, with striped shirts and loud voices, standing in small houses. And the small houses looked just like little stores, and on the counters were good things to eat,–popcorn, peanuts, cracker jack, and something cool in glasses, like lemonade but coloured like strawberries. Loud did the men shout, trying to sell those good things to everybody who came near.
But Marmaduke couldn’t buy even one peanut. He didn’t have any money. How was he ever going to get into that circus!
Oh, where was the Toyman?
But he didn’t cry. You know he didn’t. He just shut his teeth hard, and winked and winked.
At last Wienerwurst gave a little bark. He saw a little hole, and Wienerwurst always liked little holes. It was under the tent and just his size. Right into it he crawled. All Marmaduke could see of his doggie now was his little tail like a sausage. The rest of him was under the tent. Thump-thump-thump went the tail. And Marmaduke knew it must be pretty nice inside.
Then the tail, too, disappeared. So down on his stomach went the little boy and crawled right in after his doggie.
The tent had several big rooms and he was in one of them. On every side were big cages with iron bars.
“Girrrrrrrrrrrhhh!” went something in one of the cages.
That wicked runaway tiger!
Marmaduke ran past all the cages very fast until he came to another room. In it were lots of queer funny people.
He heard another voice, not like the runaway tiger’s, but one just happy and pleasant, though very deep.
“Well, look who’s here!” it said.
That was a funny thing to say, Marmaduke thought, and he looked up.
He had to look up ever so high. There was the tall giant, sitting on a great big chair. Big were his feet and his legs and his hands, and big were his chin and his nose and his hat. Still he didn’t look cross like the giants in the story-books, just nice and kind.
Marmaduke stared up at him and he smiled down at Marmaduke.
It was very hot and the big giant took off his hat to wipe his forehead. He set his hat down. He didn’t look where he put it and it went over Marmaduke’s head and nearly covered him up. He couldn’t see any sunlight. It was all dark inside that hat.