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Updated: May 7, 2025
I've got a bundle packed, and I'm going straight off directly I leave you." Mr. Bloxford's countenance fell, and he whistled. "Bad as that, is it? Whatever have you done? Well, well, I won't ask any questions. I've met some of your sort before; there's always something shady though it goes against the grain with me to think that you've done anything low down and mean.
It was a circus tent; and, moreover, it was Bloxford's Mammoth Circus itself. He stopped and stared; then he laughed. "Why, it's old Bloxford!" he cried, brightly. "Celia, this is a piece of luck. Think of his coming here here, of all places! By George! how glad I shall be to see him; and I've an idea he'll be glad to see me! We'll go no, not now" stopping short "I'll go to the show to-night."
I'm not fond of arguing myself." When he had disposed of his supper, he made his way to Mr. Bloxford's cabin and knocked at the door. He was bidden to enter in a sharp, falsetto voice, like that of a phonograph when it is on the high note. The manager was still enveloped in his fur coat, but his hat had been thrown aside, revealing a head apparently completely hairless.
Bloxford stared, grew red and exceeding wrath. "What the deuce does this mean?" he demanded, throwing open his fur coat and sticking out his chest. "Look here, if you're not satisfied " Derrick made haste to assert not only his entire satisfaction with, but his gratitude for, Mr. Bloxford's confidence and generosity. "Then what is it?" shrilled Mr. Bloxford. "Has anybody been roughing you?
The simple, almost child-like, folk enjoyed themselves amazingly. Bloxford's and Derrick's health was drunk, and it was with unfeigned reluctance that Derrick at last broke up the party and ordered them off to the rest they had so well earned. On the second night there was another packed audience; but there was a larger proportion of the rougher element, and Mr.
You may take that as a promise, and I've a knack of keeping my promises." The man swore vilely, but suddenly stopped and slunk away, wiping the blood from his face, and Mr. Bloxford's voice, from behind Derrick, demanded shrilly: "Who appointed you general chucker-out of the establishment?"
It was summer in England, but it was like winter here, a bland and mild winter, with, fortunately for Bloxford's circus, no rain at any rate, at present and all through the day the scene had been lit up by a brilliant sun which, shining through a singularly clear atmosphere, seemed to destroy distance and to bestow sharp outlines on every object.
Sidcup noticed her little action, and his face darkened. At this moment Mr. Bloxford's hand waved towards him; his turn had come, and he sprang into the ring with the acrobat's conventional bow and gesture. After trying his ropes carefully, he swarmed up to the trapeze; the music of the band slowed down, and became impressive.
"I'll go and see what is the proprietor's name?" "Bloxford. Bloxford's Mammoth Circus; the largest on Earth; see Press notices. But, of course, you know," replied Mr. Sidcup, with some surprise. "The old man's all right, as you'll find. Curious customer; but knows his business. He's not much to look at; but he's a devil to work, and he's a born manager.
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