t was low, just the same. She thought the Temperance Family
was nice, but it wasn't anywhere near as good as the Drunkard's Family.
Why, let me tell you. The Drunkard's Wife was in a ragged calico dress,
and her eye was all black and blue, where he had hit her the week
before. And the Drunkard had hold of a black quart bottle, and his nose
was all red, and he wore a plug hat that was even rustier and more caved
in than Elder Drown's, if such a thing were possible. And there was--But
I can't begin to tell you of all the fine things Mr. Barnum had that
year, but never had again.
Another thing Mr. Barnum had that year that never appeared again. It
may be that after that time the Funny Old Clown did crack a joke, but
I never heard him. The one that Mr. Barnum had got off the most comical
thing you ever heard. I'll never forget it the longest day I live.
Laugh? Why, I nearly took a conniption over it. It seems the clown got
to crying about something.... Now what was it made him cry? Let me see
now.... Ain't it queer I can't remember that? Fudge! Well, never mind
now. It will come to me in a minute.
I feel kind of sorry for the poor little young ones that grow up and
never know what a clown is like. Oh, yes, they have them to-day, after a
fashion. They stub their toes and fall down the same as ever, but there
is a whole mob of them and you can't take the interest in them that you
could in "the one, the only, the inimitable" clown there used to be, a
character of such importance that he got his name on the bills. He was a
mighty man in those days. The ring-master was a kind of stuck-up fellow,
very important in his own estimation, but he didn't have a spark of
humor. Not a spark. And he'd be swelling around there, all so grand,
and the clown, just to take him down a peg or two, would ask him a
conundrum. And do you think he could ever guess one? Never. Not a one.
And when the clown would tell him what the answer was, he'd be so vexed
at himself that he'd try to take it out on the poor clown, and cut at
him with his long whip. But Mr. Clown was just as spry in his shoes as
he was under the hat, and he'd hop up on the ring-side out of the way,
and squall out: "A-a-aah! Never touched me!" We had that for a byword.
Oh, you'd die laughing at the comical remarks he'd make. And he'd be so
quick about it. The ring-master would say something, and before you'd
think, the clown would make a joke out of it.... I wish I could remember
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