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Updated: May 29, 2025
"Shade off on that noise, men!" Dick ordered briskly, holding up his hand and moving again through the crowd. "Remember that we cannot have any racket except what the guns make." A few more guns were fired, and the racket died down. "The show's over!" shouted Major Wells. "Evidently we got out of that meeting with less damage than the enemy sustained.
It show's his course to be down'ard." "I cannot see what this has to do with our conversa- tion. Mr. Troy's course is not by any means downward; and his superiority IS a proof of his worth!" "I believe him to have no conscience at all. And I cannot help begging you, miss, to have nothing to do with him. Listen to me this once only this once!
At last, after five days, Blake gave it up and turned back to Virginia, hastened somewhat by the cleverly exploited newspaper strategy of George Simms, the show's press agent.
Two of the rival show's elephants had been tumbled into a ditch by the roadside. Then Kennedy had a lively few minutes to keep his own animals from following and putting an end to the enemies they had tumbled over. The tusks of the two big elephants, when they met, sounded like the report of a pistol.
I forgot in my excitement, to ask Mr. Sparling about them. I wonder where they are?" The music of the rival band grew louder and louder, but strain his eyes and ears as he would, Phil was unable to locate the other show's line of parade. "Where's that band?" he called up to the driver of his carriage. "Off that side of the town, I guess," he answered, waving his whip to the right of them.
Nobody knows you, so don't go into a funk, my lad. It's life or death for you, mebby. I'll get a word to Briggs, the ringmaster. He'll help you out, too. Just follow me around the ring, three steps behind. Stop when I stop, walk when I do. Look silly, that's all. I'll think of something else to tell you to do after we're out there. And we'll stay out there till the show's over."
"Nothing doing, Budd," he called to the fat man. "The show's moved on to a new stand." Jim Budd, puffing heavily and glistening with perspiration, nodded the answer he could not speak. Presently he got out what he wanted to say. "Notice that leading hawss on the nigh side, Slim?" he asked. "So you noticed it, too, Jim. I could swear to that roan with the four stockings. It's the hawss Mr.
When I look at the Pump pasture now, in afternoon like this, or in Spring with vi'lets, or when a circus show's there, it don't seem to me it could 'a' been the same place. I kep' 'em together the best I could some of 'em beggin' for 'Mr. Middie Mr. Middie, the man, I judged, that was dead.
Finally, they were all gone, and the orchestra had gathered up its instruments and filed out into the wings of the stage, and he looked up to the left and said, softly: "All right, Doug; show's over." With a soft thud, the big man dropped down from the guard's cubicle overhead, grinning cheerfully.
Till somebody proves in court that we're not, there don't any shack, or any stock, stay on our side the line any longer than it takes to get them off. There's the signs, folks read 'em and take 'em to heart. You can go home now. The show's over." He lifted his hat to the women and there were several now and went away to join his fellows, who had ridden on slowly till he might overtake them.
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