a good
fellow," and see the hyena snarl and show his teeth like an anarchist
that a multi-millionaire might try to tame so he would take a roll of
money out of his hand without biting the hand. I have had boys stand in
front of a hyena cage with a curry-comb and brush all day, trying to get
on good terms with the hyenas, and occasionally the hyenas would forget
to snarl and the boy would think the animals were beginning to weaken,
and the boy would work up closer to the cage, and say: "Pretty pussy,"
and hold out his hand and say: "Good fellow." Then the whole cageful of
hyenas would make a rush for him, howling, snapping and scratching, with
their bristles up, and the boy would fall backwards over a sacred cow.
About this time I would come along and ask the boy if he had got the
hyenas curried, 'cause if he had, I wanted him to curry the grave
robbers--the jackals. Then the boy would reluctantly give up his tools,
and say if I wanted the hyenas and jackals curried off I could do it
myself. I would tell them they would never do for the circus business,
'cause faint heart never won fair hyena. Then they would go home and
sell their mother's copper boiler to get money to pay their way in the
show. Gee, but I have saved lots of boys from a circus fate.

Pa has an awful time in the hospital, 'cause twice a day the doctors
strip him and pull a mess of cactus thorns out of him, and he yells and
don't talk very pious. The doctor told me I must try and think of
something to divert pa's mind from his suffering.

So I got some telegraph blanks and envelopes, and I have written
messages from the show managers, twice a day. The morning message would
tell about the business of the day before, and how they missed pa. Then
I would add something like this: "The farmers around Olathe are all
inquiring for you," or "The farmers around Topeka wish you were here,
'cause they want to give you a reception," or "About 200 farmers at
Parsons think we ought to let them in free, on account of being old
friends of yours." The last one broke pa all up. The message said: "Many
farmers from Atchison are going to come with us to Kansas City to confer
with you on an old matter of business." Pa jumped like a box car off the
track, and wanted the doctors to send him to a hospital at St. Louis,
and he told the doctors the reason, but they cheered him up by saying
that if any mob came to the hospital after him, they would hide him in
the pickling vat, an