“What’s this you say—the circus? Land sakes, I haven’t seen one since I was—well, since I was a girl. I don’t know.”
“You’ll go, won’t you?” urged Phil.
“Of course, I’ll go,” she made haste to reply, noting the disappointment in his face over her hesitation2. “And thank you very much.”
“Shall I come and get you, Mrs. Cahill, or can you get over to the circus grounds alone?”
“Don’t worry about me, my boy. I’ll take care of myself.”
“Your seat will be right next to mine, and we can talk while we are watching the performers.”
“Yes; you run along now. Here’s a quarter for spending money. Never mind thanking me. Just take it and have a good time. Where’s your friend?”
“Teddy?”
“Yes.”
“Over on the lot.”
“He going in with you, too?”
“Oh, no. Teddy is too proud to go in that way. He crawls in under the tent,” laughed Phil, running down the steps and setting off for the circus grounds with all speed.
When he arrived there he saw at once that something was going on. The tents were all in place, the little white city erected3 with as much care and attention to detail as if the show expected to remain in Edmeston all summer. The lad could scarcely make himself believe that, only a few hours before, this very lot had been occupied by the birds alone. It was a marvel4 to him, even in after years, when he had become as thoroughly5 conversant6 with the details of a great show as any man in America.
Just now there was unusual activity about the grounds. Men in gaudy7 uniforms, clowns in full makeup8, and women with long glistening9 trains, glittering with spangles from head to feet, were moving about, while men were decorating the horses with bright blankets and fancy headdress.
“What are they going to do?” asked Phil of a showman.
“Going to parade.”
“Oh, yes, that’s so; I had forgotten about that.”
“Hello, boy—I’ve forgotten your name—”
“Forrest,” explained Phil, turning. The speaker was Mr. Sparling’s assistant, whom the lad had seen just after saving the lion cage from turning over.
“Depends upon what kind of a horn. I think I can make as much noise on a fish horn as anyone else.”
“That’ll do as well as anything else. Want to go in the parade?”
“I’d love to!” The color leaped to the cheeks of Phil Forrest and a sparkle to his eyes. This was going beyond his fondest dreams.
The assistant motioned to a clown.
“Fix this boy up in some sort of a rig. I’m going to put him in the Kazoo Band. Bring him back here when he is ready. Be quick.”
A long, yellow robe was thrown about the boy, a peaked cap thrust on his head, after which a handful of powder was slapped on his face and rubbed down with the flat of the clown’s hand. The fine dust got into the lad’s nostrils11 and throat, causing him to sneeze until the tears rolled down his cheeks, streaking12 his makeup like a freshet through a plowed13 field.
“Good,” laughed the clown. “That’s what your face needs. You’d make a good understudy for Chief Rain-In-The-Face. Now hustle14 along.”
Phil picked up the long skirts and ran full speed to the place where the assistant had been standing15. There he waited until the assistant returned from a journey to some other part of the lot.
“That’s right; you know how to obey orders,” he nodded. “That’s a good clown makeup. Did Mr. Miaco put those streaks16 on your face?”
“No, I sneezed them there,” answered Phil, with a sheepish grin.
“Do you live at home, Forrest?”
“No; I have no home now.”
“Here’s a fish horn. Now get up in the band wagon—no, not the big one, I mean the clowns’ band wagon with the hayrack on it. When the parade starts blow your confounded head off if you want to. Make all the noise you can. You’ll have plenty of company. When the parade breaks up, just take off your makeup and turn it over to Mr. Miaco.”
“You mean these clothes?”
“Yes. They’re a part of the makeup. You’ll have to wash the makeup off your face. I don’t expect you to return the powder to us,” grinned the assistant humorously.
The clowns were climbing to the hayrack. A bugle19 had blown as a signal that the parade was ready to move. Phil had not seen Teddy Tucker since returning to the lot. He did not know where the boy was, but he was quite sure that Teddy was not missing any of the fun. Tucker had been around circuses before, and knew how to make the most of his opportunities. And he was doing so now.
“Ta ra, ta ra, ta ra!” sang the bugle.
Crash! answered the cymbals20 and the bass21 drums. The snare22 drums buzzed a long, thrilling roll; then came the blare of the brass23 as the whole band launched into a lively tune24 such as only circus bands know how to play.
The parade had begun to move.
It was a thrilling moment—the moment of all moments of Phil Forrest’s life.
The clowns’ wagon had been placed well back in the line, so as not to interfere25 with the music of the band itself. But Phil did not care where he was placed. He only knew that he was in a circus parade, doing his part with the others, and that, so far as anyone knew, he was as much a circus man as any of them.
As the cavalcade26 drew out into the main street and straightened away, Phil was amazed to see what a long parade it was. It looked as if it might reach the whole length of the village.
The spring sun was shining brightly, lighting27 up the line, transforming it into a moving, flashing, brilliant ribbon of light and color.
“Splendid!” breathed the boy, removing the fish horn from his lips for a brief instant, then blowing with all his might again.
As the wagons28 moved along he saw many people whom he knew. As a matter of fact, Phil knew everyone in the village, but there were hundreds of people who had driven in from the farms whom he did not know. Nor did anyone appear to recognize him.
The widow was standing on her front door step with a dishtowel in one hand.
In the excess of his excitement, Phil stood up, waving his horn and yelling.
She heard him—as everybody else within a radius30 of a quarter of a mile might have—and she recognized the voice. Mrs. Cahill brandished31 the dishtowel excitedly.
“He’s a fine boy,” she glowed. “And he’s having the first good time he’s had in five years.”
The Widow Cahill was right. For the first time in all these years, since the death of his parents, Phil Forrest was carefree and perfectly32 happy.
The clowns on the wagon with him were uproariously funny. When the wagon stopped now and then, one whom Phil recognized as the head clown, Mr. Miaco, would spring to the edge of the rack and make a stump34 speech in pantomime, accompanied by all the gestures included in the pouring and drinking of a glass of water. So humorous were the clown’s antics that the spectators screamed with laughter.
Suddenly the lad espied35 that which caused his own laughter to die away, and for the moment he forgot to toot the fish horn. The parade was passing his former home, and there, standing hunched36 forward, leaning on his stick and glaring at the procession from beneath bushy eyebrows37, stood Phil’s uncle, Abner Adams.
Phil’s heart leaped into his throat; at least that was the sensation that he experienced.
“I—I hope he doesn’t know me,” muttered the lad, shrinking back a little. “But I’m a man now. I don’t care. He’s driven me out and he has no right to say a thing.”
The lad lost some of his courage, however, when the procession halted, and he found that his wagon was directly in front of Mr. Adams’ dooryard, with his decrepit38 uncle not more than twenty feet away from him. The surly, angry eyes of Abner Adams seemed to be burning through Phil’s makeup, and the lad instinctively39 shrank back ever so little.
However, at that instant the boy’s attention was attracted to another part of the wagon. The head clown stepped from the wagon and, with dignified40 tread, approached Abner Adams. He grasped the old man by the hand, which he shook with great warmth, making a courtly bow.
At first Abner Adams was too surprised to protest. Then, uttering an angry snarl41, he threw the clown off, making a vicious pass at him with his heavy stick.
Phil breathed a sigh of relief. The people had roared at the funny sight of the clown shaking hands with the crabbed43 old man; but to Phil Forrest there had been nothing of humor in it. The sight of his uncle brought back too many unhappy memories.
The lad soon forgot his depression, however, in the rapid changes that followed each other in quick succession as on a moving- picture film.
Reaching the end of the village street the procession was obliged to turn and retrace44 its steps over the same ground until it reached the business part of the town, where it would turn off and pass through some of the side streets.
Now there were two lines, moving in opposite directions. This was of interest to Phil, enabling him, as it did, to get a good look at the other members of the troupe45. Mr. Sparling was riding ahead in a carriage drawn46 by four splendid white horses, driven by a coachman resplendent in livery and gold lace, while the bobbing plumes47 on the heads of the horses added to the impressiveness of the picture.
“I’d give anything in the world to be able to ride in a carriage like that,” decided48 Phil. “Maybe someday I shall. We’ll see.”
Now came the elephants, lumbering49 along on velvet50 feet. On the second one there crouched51 a figure that somehow seemed strangely familiar to Phil Forrest. The figure was made up to represent a huge frog.
A peculiar52 gesture of one of the frog’s legs revealed the identity of the figure beneath the mask.
“Teddy!” howled Phil.
“Have a frog’s leg,” retorted Teddy, shaking one of them vigorously at the motley collection of clowns.
“Not eating frogs legs today,” jeered53 a clown, as Teddy went swinging past them, a strange, grotesque54 figure on the back of the huge, hulking beast.
The clowns’ wagon was just on the point of turning when the men heard a loud uproar33 far down the line. At first they thought it was a part of the show, but it soon became apparent that something was wrong.
Phil instinctively let the horn fall away from his lips. He peered curiously55 over the swaying line to learn what, if anything, had gone wrong.
He made out the cause of the trouble almost at once. A pony56 with a woman on its back had broken from the line, and was plunging57 toward them at a terrific pace. She appeared to have lost all control of the animal, and the pony, which proved to be an ugly broncho, was bucking58 and squealing59 as it plunged60 madly down the street.
The others failed to see what Phil had observed almost from the first. The bit had broken in the mouth of the broncho and the reins61 hung loosely in the woman’s helpless hands.
They were almost up with the clowns’ wagon when the woman was seen to sway dizzily in her saddle, as the leather slipped beneath her. Then she plunged headlong to the ground.
Instead of falling in a heap, the circus woman, with head dragging, bumping along the ground, was still fast to the pony.
“Her foot is caught in the stirrup!” yelled half a dozen men at once, but not a man of them made an effort to rescue her. Perhaps this was because none of the real horsemen of the show were near enough to do so.
Mr. Sparling, however, at the first alarm, had leaped from his carriage, and, thrusting a rider from his mount, sprang into the saddle and came tearing down the line in a cloud of dust. He was bearing down on the scene at express train speed.
“The woman will be killed!”
“Stop him! Stop him!”
“Stop him yourself!”
But not a man made an effort to do anything.
It had all occurred in a few seconds, but rapidly as the events succeeded each other, Phil Forrest seemed to be the one among them who retained his presence of mind.
He fairly launched himself into the air as the ugly broncho shot alongside the clowns’ wagon.
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收听单词发音
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1
procured
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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2
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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3
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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4
marvel
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| vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异；n.令人惊异的事 | |
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5
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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6
conversant
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| adj.亲近的，有交情的，熟悉的 | |
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7
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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8
makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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9
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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10
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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11
nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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12
streaking
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| n.裸奔（指在公共场所裸体飞跑）v.快速移动( streak的现在分词 )；使布满条纹 | |
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13
plowed
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| v.耕( plow的过去式和过去分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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14
hustle
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| v.推搡；竭力兜售或获取；催促；n.奔忙(碌) | |
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15
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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16
streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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17
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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18
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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19
bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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20
cymbals
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| pl.铙钹 | |
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21
bass
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| n.男低音(歌手)；低音乐器；低音大提琴 | |
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22
snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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23
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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24
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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25
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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26
cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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27
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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28
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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29
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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30
radius
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| n.半径，半径范围；有效航程，范围，界限 | |
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31
brandished
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| v.挥舞( brandish的过去式和过去分词 )；炫耀 | |
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32
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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33
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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34
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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35
espied
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| v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
hunched
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| （常指因寒冷、生病或愁苦）耸肩弓身的，伏首前倾的 | |
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37
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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38
decrepit
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| adj.衰老的，破旧的 | |
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39
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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40
dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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41
snarl
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| v.吼叫，怒骂，纠缠，混乱；n.混乱，缠结，咆哮 | |
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42
dodged
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| v.闪躲( dodge的过去式和过去分词 )；回避 | |
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43
crabbed
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| adj.脾气坏的；易怒的；（指字迹）难辨认的；（字迹等）难辨认的v.捕蟹( crab的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
retrace
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| v.折回；追溯，探源 | |
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45
troupe
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| n.剧团，戏班；杂技团；马戏团 | |
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46
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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47
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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48
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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49
lumbering
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| n.采伐林木 | |
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50
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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51
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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53
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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54
grotesque
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| adj.怪诞的，丑陋的；n.怪诞的图案，怪人（物） | |
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55
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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56
pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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57
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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58
bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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59
squealing
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| v.长声尖叫，用长而尖锐的声音说( squeal的现在分词 ) | |
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60
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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61
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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