Gayly-caparisoned, nervous horses pranced and reared; huge
wagons, gorgeous under their coat of paint and gold, glistened
in the afternoon sunlight that fell softly through the canvas top
and gave the peculiar rattling sound so familiar to the lover of
the circus as they moved majestically into the arena; elephants
trumpeted shrilly and the animals back in the menagerie tent sent
up a deafening roar of protest. After months of quiet in their
winter quarters, this unusual noise and excitement threw the wild
beasts into a tempest of anger. Pacing their cages with upraised
heads, they hurled their loud-voiced protests into the air until
the more timid of the spectators trembled in their seats.
It was an inspiring moment for the circus people, as well as for
the spectators.
"Tweetle! Tweetle!" sang the ringmaster's whistle after the
spectacle had wound its way once around the concourse.
At this the procession wheeled, its head cutting between the
two rings, slowly and majestically reaching for the paddock
and dressing tent, where the performers would hurry into their
costumes for their various acts to follow.
This left only the elephants in the ring. The huge beasts now
began their evolutions, ponderous but graceful, eliciting great
applause, as did their trainer, Mr.
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