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Updated: May 8, 2025
I watched one fellow to-day through a series of positive trapeze movements from top to bottom and bottom to top of a grass-tangle. When he got through he shook himself, and smoothed off his legs exactly as the circus-men do. Then he took a long pull at a clover well. "Ah, the clover! Dearest! you should have seen how it swung to-day.
Florette was a performer on the trapeze in vaudeville. Her figure was perfect from the strenuous daily exercise. She was small, young, and a shade too blonde. First she appeared in a sort of blue evening dress, except that it was shorter even than a d butante's.
"Oh, I'd like to do that!" cried Marjorie, as with sparkling eyes she watched a young girl do a swinging specialty. King laughed. "You'd like to do lots of these stunts, Midget, but let me advise you if you're ever a circus performer, don't try trapeze work; you're too heavy. When you came down, you'd go smash through the net!
He looked at her furtively, as if he were ashamed of having to amuse himself, and remembered too late how much the confession might mean. "It was sordid," he continued. "One wondered how the performers could be content to risk their lives for the benefit of such a small and such an undistinguished audience. There was a trapeze troupe, however, who interested me.
Joe did not get in the tank with Lizzie for practice that night, as he wanted her to learn gradually. Then, too, he was rather tired, and he had his trapeze work to do in addition to his aquatic act. That night Lizzie, by Joe's orders, was left in her crate in the big tent while the show went on.
The ceiling was adorned with frescoes, which at once excited Sir Charles's interest, and he noted with indignation that a large portion of the painting at the northern end had been destroyed and some glass roofing inserted. In another place bolts had been driven in to support the ropes of a trapeze and a few other pieces of gymnastic apparatus.
She was fond of daring feats on the trapeze, and had to be checked in her indulgence in them.
When the lively French clock on the mantel-piece a base of malachite surmounted by a flying bronze Mercury with its arms spread gracefully on the air, and not remotely suggestive of Mademoiselle Olympe in the act of executing her grand flight from the trapeze when the clock, I repeat, struck nine, Van Twilier paid no attention to it. That was certainly a triumph.
"I should say you wouldn't try!" exclaimed Jim. "I wouldn't let you. And don't work on the trapeze at all. Just do as much of your tank act as you can." "Oh, I can do all that," Joe said quickly, "and string it out a bit if I cut out the trapeze work." "Cut it out, then at least for to-day."
One night, after several weeks of this, Delaney and I fancied that we caught sight of Van Twiller in the private box of an uptown theatre, where some thrilling trapeze performance was going on, which we did not care to sit through; but we concluded afterward that it was only somebody who looked like him. Delaney, by the way, was unusually active in this search.
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