by Jim Tully
“They do wit’ this circus, kid,” he answered. “That’s the only outfit we got left.”
The ragged roustabouts with the circus would immediately feel all-important once they donned the vari-colored uniforms for parade. But the lice bit viciously beneath their gaudy apparel, and often, though clad in sumptuous regalia, our minds were on lesser things.
News of our hey rube battle had not reached this section. The lot was crowded with people.
As I stood near the elephant with Goosey, who was ready to place me on its back, Cameron approached.
“We’ll clean up a lotta money today, Goosey,” he smiled, and walked on.
“He means he’ll clean up the money, the old bum. All I’ll do is clean up after the elephants. The old cuss is just castrated wit’ joy when he makes a lotta money.” And Goosey frowned as he put his animals in line for parade.
We made a triumphant tour of the town. We returned to the lot where a huge crowd awaited us. The midway was crowded.
Our “world’s champion” high diver had just hurled himself from an eighty foot ladder into a small tank of water. He came out dripping and shivering. A lithe-limbed boy stood on his hands atop a red wagon. His body formed a curve. The crowd applauded. Climbing down he saw the flag on the cook-tent and hurried away to his dinner.
The snake-charmer waved a rock python about while the spieler clanged on an iron triangle to draw the crowd. His place was quickly taken by a swarthy fellow who pounded a huge drum with his hand. He was joined by a darker chap who played a terrifying tune on a weird clarinet. Then Socrates Whipper, the spieler, appeared again.
He beamed the benevolence of a country minister. He looked like a man who had a world to save. A black string tie was crooked on his “come to Jesus” collar. A ring made out of a horseshoe nail was on the third finger of his left hand. He held the thumb of it in his vest. A large Elk tooth, colored green, hung from a heavy gold chain stretched across his vest. There was a look of sadness about his eyes. Strangely enough, they danced with humor when he smiled. His lower jaw was longer than daylight, and moved swiftly. His words were as smooth as an egg in wine. He was saying:
“Lefita, the favorite dancer of the Sultan, who escaped the horrors of a Turkish harem and was brought to this country by the generous owners of this circus to present for you the secret dances of Egypt. She knows the lure of the dances of the world. She it was who danced for the kings of impotent glory. E-v-e-r-y mu-s-cl-e-e-v-e-ry-fib-er in this little la-dees ana-tom-ee quiver-s and shakes like an aspen leaf in a gale of wind-or like a bowl of jell-ee, gentlemen-on a cold and frost-ee morning. She makes the old feel young and the young feel gay, the blind to see and cripples to throw their crutches away.”
Lefita appeared behind the benevolent-looking spieler and gave a body quiver that started at her feet and rolled upward. Her copper-colored form was fascinating. It moved with the poetry of motion as she walked away.
“The little lady will retire. The show will start immediately. All will be out and over before the big show commences. There are three ticket boxes—tickets a quarter, twenty-five cents. You will see the little people, the pygmies, the Bearded Lady, and Amy. The wonderful Amy weighs seven hundred and ninety pounds, and yet is as dainty as any of her sisters. You will see the sword swallower, the glass blowers from Bohemia, and many dangerous reptiles in a glass-enclosed den. All for twenty-five cents.”
As the din died away the listeners filed inside. Shadows danced across the trampled grass within. Green flies buzzed about mournfully.
The Moss-Haired Girl, the Strong Woman and other freaks, having just returned from the cook-tent, were mounting their stands and arranging photographs, which they sold. The sword-swallower wiped her nickle-plated weapon with a soft cloth. The snake-charmer confided to Bosco, the wild man, her worry about a sinuous pet.
“He’s got a canker in his mouth and I’ve touched it with caustic and washed it with bismuth but it just don’t seem to do no good. He’s due to eat next month and I’m worried as all hell. I hope it’ll be well by then.”
She looked concerned toward the wild man, who advised:
“Lemme tell you. Jest clean it out a weeny teeny bit and put a midgie piece o’ saltpeter on it. That’ll fix it up. I did that with a big anaconda for Millie Delay when I was a spieler for the Sparks show.”
The benevolent-looking spieler followed the crowd inside and went from one platform to another until he came to the far end where stood the charming Lefita. He beamed beside her.
A crowd of men stood in front of them. Of all ages, with expressions of sex-wonder in their eyes, gazing curiously as men will who cannot solve a mystery that populates graveyards and through the ages has sent poets, popes, kings and fools to the junk-heap.
The drum throbbed. The clarinet shrieked. Lefita shivered languidly. The music became more violent and Lefita’s body kept in tune. It moved like something boneless but sensuous.
The movement ended in a gyration that seemed to leave her exhausted. It was a short dance. The onlookers stood curious and expectant. The spieler then called them closer and said blandly, “I recognize some real sports amongst you, gentlemen, with good red blood coursing through your corpuscles. But would you like it, gentlemen, if this little lady would put on a special show for you? She just told me inside that she had never seen so many handsome men—and the young lady sees a great many.”
The center of the young lady’s body moved sensuously.
“Sure! Sure! Sure!!” yelled a chorus of shillabers. (A shillaber is a herder of suckers.) They were noisy in eagerness.
“Go easy, gentlemen,” admonished the spieler, “we mustn’t overstep the bounds of the conventions. The young lady is very temperamental and loud demonstrations interfere with her body movements.”
The shillabers were still insistent.
“No, wait a moment, gentlemen,” said the spieler as he stopped to plead with Lefita, who hung her head, pouting, her splendid body moving the while as she shook her head coyly and disappeared. The shillabers made another demonstration in which the other onlookers joined.
“Of course, gentlemen, there will be an extra charge for this—just a thin silver dollar apiece—and of course all that we collect will go to the little lady herself. The little girl will be glad to give the special engagement for you. Move closer boys, move closer.” He made a motion with his hand. “Listen, if you boys ever had that funny feeling—you know—she’ll give it to you as you’ve never had it before. You know the Sultan of Turkey and the King of England’s each got a lot of wives and seeing women is of course no preponderant mystery to them, but they got a rise out of Lefita.…”
The shillabers pushed forward, carrying the crowd with them.
“Don’t crowd, folks. Remember always that you are American gentlemen,” said the spieler.
Then a shillaber’s voice boomed:
“I say, Professor, I wonder if she’ll give that doniker dance she put on over in Emoryville the other night.”
The spieler rubbed his hands, puzzled.
“Oh you mean that special show we put on at the Elks’ lodge?”
“Yep, that’s it,” answered the shillaber.
“Well, you boys are hot sports all right. I’ll go in and ask her if she will. But of course, in all fairness, it should cost fifty cents more apiece.”
The men eagerly awaited the return of the spieler. While he was gone the shillaber who had asked for the doniker dance described in a loud voice the dance he had seen at the Elks’ blow out.
The spieler returned with a cautious expression.
“There are no police amongst you, is there?”
Many voices answered in unison:
“No!”
“Well,” he went on, “the little lady said she’d do it all right. It’s very trying, you know, you never saw such a movement. Lord, what passion! But, as I say, it will cost fifty cents extra, a small dollar and a half. A show the like of which you’ll never see this sid
e of heaven again.”
Another shillaber clapped his hands loudly.
“What do you say, gentlemen, if we all chip in another half dollar and give it to the lady. Two little silver dollars ain’t much and look what a show we’ll see. We may as well be real sports. We don’t see things like this every day, and I’m for helpin’ the little girl. We’ve all got sisters and mothers and they’ve got to git along. And if we gentlemen don’t help them, who will?” Two other shillabers cried, “Here’s my two dollars.”
One after another several dozen race perpetuators handed the spieler the required amount. After he had collected from the last one, he pulled aside a flap of canvas and let the men pass into what seemed to be an adjoining tent.
There was a platform inside upon which Lefita did not stand. Fearful music was made upon the drum and clarinet.
“Say, Professor,” spoke up a shillaber when the music ceased, “now that we’re in here you be a good sport. What’s the matter with having the little lady do the dance—without—you know!”
The spieler looked concerned and cautious at the same time. He held up a long smooth hand. “Why, boys, I can’t ask her to do that. Gracious, gentlemen, this is too much. You should have told me before I let you in here that you wanted the whole show. Why she got five dollars apiece from the Elks last week for putting that on. Sometimes the Shriners give her even ten dollars apiece.” He looked about, then spoke softly. “But wait, I’ll ask her.”
He was gone for a moment.
“Gosh, I wish she’d do it without. Boy, O boy—she’s got a knockout form. Anna Held’s a blue jay compared to her. Zowie, she’d make Julius Seezar a bum over night. I never saw nothin’ like her over to the Elks,” said a shillaber.
The dazed members of the stronger sex looked at the speaker as the spieler returned.
“She doesn’t want to do it for that price, boys, and you can’t much blame her. She’s a modest young lady and it’s a very trying dance. Just think, as lovely as young Eve in the Garden. Think of it, gentlemen, and be lenient. As I say, she got five dollars last week over at the Elks.”
“Oh well, come on,” said a shillaber impatiently. “Let’s all give another dollar and have the whole works.”
The men trembled in anticipation as the speiler raised his hand and said:
“Yes, gentlemen, I’ll be fair. One dollar more each and I’ll see that she gives the whole show—the Egyptian dance, the doniker dance, and the wonderful dance without. Think of it, gentlemen, the soul-stirring—the voluptuous—the sensuous—the wonderful—the maddening dance without.” They all rushed forward with another dollar.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you, gentlemen,” said the spieler as Lefita came through a side wall and climbed upon the platform. She danced indifferently, her body moving slowly. In a short time she disappeared.
“That was just the introduction, gentlemen, merely a warming up of her lovely body. In a few minutes she will do the dance without.” He held his long smooth hand up again. “Will all you gentlemen please remove your hats?” he said.
They did as they were told.
Lefita appeared and danced again in the same apparel.
A shillaber sneered as Lefita bowed. “Without what?” he yelled gruffly.
“Without your hats on,” came the bland voice of the spieler.
Suddenly the side-walls dropped and the astonished spectators found themselves standing in the open air.
They looked at each other sheepishly and melted into the crowd.
The clarinet and the drum again played fearful music.
Lefita rested. The show closed for twenty minutes until other rubes had gathered. Finnerty’s voice could be heard.
“Here you are, ladees and gentlemen. Tickets for the great and only—the great and only—I say the great and only Cameron’s great combined shows just returned from tours of China and Japan and other points in the Far West. Be very, very careful, gentlemen. We try to run a respectful show, but beware of pickpockets. Guard your purses.”
Socrates Whipple again appeared before Lefita’s tent.
“She is the favorite dancer of the Sultan, ladies and gentlemen. She escaped the horrors of his harem and was brought to this country by the generous owners of this circus for your edification in the secret dances of Egypt.”
And thus the farce was renewed.
By using every device possible through Arkansas, Cameron and his band soon recouped their losses.
Plundering and stealing, cheating and lying, laboring, fighting and loving; taking all we could and returning little, we went our careless and irresponsible ways, with laughter in our hearts and sneers on our lips—as anti-social as the hyenas who howled at the changes in the weather.
VIII: The Strong Woman
VIII: The Strong Woman
SHE weighed four hundred pounds. Her neck, shoulders and arms bulged with muscle. Her torso was set on hips far broader than her shoulders. Her small head was covered with short curly flaxen hair that seemed continually damp. It looked as out of place on her mountain of body as a small knob on an immense potato. Her feet were usually spread apart as if in readiness for some impending shock. They were covered with pink sandals and fastened with silk ribbons about her giant ankles. The circus billed her as “The Female Hercules, The Strongest Lady in the World.” The flamboyant posters showed her as a young Juno with a face as placid as Queen Victoria’s.
Her face was not without attraction. Her eyes were blue and beautiful. They stared sadly at a world without understanding. She had a red moist underlip that trembled with suppressed hurt. She would toss her head saucily as if to show the world that she was feminine, with the hopes and dreams and longings of her sex.
Twenty-five years before she had first opened her eyes in a Hanoverian village. She was christened Lila. Life laughed at her kindly parents when the baby grew out of all proportions. At the age of twelve she could carry her father and mother. At thirteen she began to support the entire family as a weight lifter.
She came to America at the age of sixteen and first appeared in a Chicago Museum on South State street. After investing heavily in photographs, which did not sell, she broke her contract. The manager, a waspy little Greek, objected. She twisted his neck until he yelled for mercy in Greek and English. She then tore through the Museum like a raging elephant and left demolished paraphernalia all about her.
She joined out as a side show attraction with a traveling circus, and soon prospered. It was not long until she began to clothe herself in the fluffiest of dresses and the widest and most beribboned of hats. She imprisoned her body in the strongest of stays, and did everything to make herself as dainty as her little sisters.
Longing for love, she became an omnivorous reader of romance. Always scattered about her were paper-backed novels in German and English. They were worlds into which her tired soul escaped. Her lips would move constantly as she read. Every now and then a little sigh would escape her. It would be followed with a heavier sigh at the end of each chapter. She would wipe her blue eyes often at the impassioned words uttered by the hero. She would be out of patience at the vacillations of the heroine who could not recognize true love in the first few chapters. When the book had been finished and hero and heroine had been united in joy forever, she would shake her perspiring flaxen head slowly and wipe her eyes, then pat the cover of the book as if it were the cheek of a child. “Ach Gott! How Beeootiful. How Sfeet.” She would lay the book down gently and pick up another which told the same story in much the same way.
Lila had her dreams. And they were not of the circus, but always of the man who would come. She wanted to make sure and recognize him when he did. She often talked of him. At such times she would become shy and circumspect. But deep in her heavy breast a great urge was pounding.
She was wealthy as circus people go. She had a bundle of express money orders as big as her arm. Besides, she carried a “grouch bag” containing two thousand dollars. A grouch bag is usually
carried suspended by a cord around the neck. It might be called the reserve bank of the circus rover. Lila often loaned money on proper security and with adequate interest. And often, though she became offended if anyone mentioned it, she gave money to those in need.
Life soon turned a page for Lila. On it were written many things.
The five Padronis sent for a new top-mounter to form the pinnacle of their human pyramid act. He left a stranded outfit to finish the season with us.
When Lila first saw Anton the world stood still for a moment. It then turned to chaos. He was the man. The great strong woman’s body became limp and flabby at sight of him. She was filled with an ineffable longing. Everything seemed different. She gave me five dollars to run an errand for her. She was a heroine in one of her paper-backed novels. She bought more finery—and shoes that hurt her feet. She began to wear a vivid red ribbon across her forehead. She also purchased two yards of fancy material with which to make new garters.
Anton sat at a table across from her in the cook house. She always watched him, fascinated. He was lithe, delicate, and furtive-eyed. Curly knots of brown hair formed at the nape of his neck. Lila made a mental photograph of him every day. She filled it with details of her own which she had garnered from the paper-back novels.
Alas, poor Lila, the pity of life and the wonder—the owls that would be eagles, and Amazons that would be sylphs.
Anton once played with his food as Lila watched. He felt superior to the fare placed in front of him. “The poor thing,” thought Lila, “maybe he’s sick.” She called the waiter and said, “Tell the chef to give you some of mine chicken unt to slice it up nice.” The waiter started toward the kitchen, nonplussed, when Lila called, “Give it to the nice-lookin’ man sidding over there,” pointing to Anton.
When the waiter placed the chicken in front of Anton, he looked up in surprise. When told that Lila had donated the delicacy, he bowed toward her.
Lila’s heart pumped faster.
“Who is the fat heifer?” he asked the waiter.
