an injured spine.

For some time after my aerial experience I sat around rather limp and
white, giving but indifferent attention to the breaking in of young
Clarence Potter, baby of the family, now in his first fortnight's
practising. He certainly showed a game spirit, this little fellow. When
his father said, "Jump," he jumped, and when the call came for a forward
somersault across and a half turn he went at it like a veteran, though
his wrists must have burned with red chafes where they caught him. Of
course he had the 'mechanic' on all the time.

"We have to handle him very careful," said his father, "he's so limber.
It wouldn't take much to break his back. But he'll harden up soon.
People have an idea that gymnasts are supple-jointed. That's all
nonsense. A gymnast won't bend as much as an ordinary business man.
There are too many bunches of muscles all over him that keep him stiff.
See, feel along here." He prodded my hand into his back and sides. "Not
big muscles, mind, but lots of small ones. Say, it's a fine thing to
have your body trained. I don't believe there's a healthier-- Hey,
there! Keep those legs together. Easy now. Good boy!" The little fellow
had made a pretty turn and drop to the net, and was striding along its
meshes, beaming at the praise.

"He'll make a gymnast," said Potter, "because he's got a head on him,
and can fix his mind on what he's doing. Oh, it takes more than body to
make a great acrobat. It takes brains, for one thing, and heart. I
believe I'll be able to train that boy so he can do a triple. I mean
_do_ it, not get through it in a Lord-help-me way. Most people say a
triple can't be done for a regular act because it's too uncertain and
too dangerous. But they used to say that of a double. It's all a matter
of taking time enough in the practice. That's the thing, practice. Why,
look at us. We don't open for months yet, but we're up here every
morning all through the winter getting our act down so fine, and the
time so perfect, that when summer comes we can't fail."

"How do you mean, getting the time perfect?"

"Why, in trapeze work everything depends on judging time. Just now when
you were hanging from the cradle you couldn't see much, could you? Well,
we can't, either. We have to know when to do things by feeling the time
they take. Say it's a long double swing, where the men cross and change
bars. Each man grabs or lets go at the second or part of a second when
the watch inside