Library Collections: Document: Full Text

There is a jolly butcher, and there a farmer, of ruddy complexion and cheerful aspect, whip in hand, covered with dust, who has ridden hard, after mowing all day in the meadow, to bring his wife and daughters to the circus. He is not afraid to contribute of his sub-stance to the wants of the needy, nor to the amusement of his family, of whom he is justly proud. Next to him sits an old man, holding a beautiful little boy, four years old, upon his knee, answering all his questions, quieting all his fears. Look at that idiot boy, grinning luridly upon the scene, with lolling tongue and watery mouth wide open, and white, unmeaning eyes. Look at that old man, with neck bent immoveably upon his breast, and so he has lived for many, many years-a pitiable object. There is another unfortunate, as thin as grim death, who is the victim of a tape-worm. He can yet laugh, and shake his lean sides. Thus wise men and fools are mingled in this epitome of a world. Let us turn to a more promising specimen of human nature; that fat, gouty old gentleman, so comfortably provided for; wild Harry he was called, in his youth. He quivers like a jelly, and one peal of hearty laughter, which he appears upon the verge of, will shake him into dissolution. He resembles the remarkable de-lineation of 'Tam O'Shanter,' struck from the rough free-stone into very life, by Thom, the self-taught artist. I hope the clown wont look at him. Have mercy, I pray thee, dear Mr. Harlequin! Indulge your facetious personalities upon the lean ones, who have room enough to expand in, and who can afford to split their sides a-laughing. But cast none of your ill-timed fooleries in that quarter. I doubt if he will hold together as it is, but if you throw at him the joke direct, Wild Harry is a dead man!

Are there any in the whole area who will experience more genuine satisfaction, than the descendants of Ham? They are huddled to-gether in one corner, dark, cloud-like, a distinct people. How will smiles and pleasantry be diffused over their features, like light bursting from the darkness! How will the whites of those eyes be uprolled in extacy, those even teeth glisten like ivory, and laughter break forth from the bottom of their souls, every laugh being worth a dollar! There, there! -- listen to that shout! An unfortunate cur, who has strayed inside by accident, has got his toes severely trampled upon, and lamentably yelping, and running the gauntlet, is kicked out of doors. It is high time that the performances commenced. 'Music! music!' shout the crowd; and the orchestra without more ado plays a national air. Another piece is performed, and the tramping of horses is heard without.

Do you remember the feelings which possessed you, so charmingly described in one of the essays of Elia, when, a child, you were taken for the first time to the theatre; when the green curtain was drawn, and the tardy musicians crept one by one from some subterraneous place into the orchestra, and at last the overture was over, and the bell rang, and the risen foot-lights burst upon the scene of enchant-ment? Such feelings of intense anticipation pervade the rural audi-ence. For now all things are ready, the passage is cleared, and silence, reigns within the pavilion. The horses are coming! 'Heavens I look at that white-haired, cat-eyed boy, on the very edge of the ring! He will certainly be run over.'

Leave him alone, leave him alone. He will take care of himself, I warrant you. Nought is never in danger. Tramp, tramp, tramp! There they come. Observe the grand entrée, by four-and-twenty Arabian horses, while the rustic mother claps her infant to her breast, scared by these terrible sports. At the first irruption of the cavalcade, the audience are bewildered with the general splendor of the scene. The horses, beautifully marked and caparisoned, are obedient to the slightest will of the rider, and yet by their proud looks and haughty bearing, seem conscious of their lineage; while the equestrians vie with each other in rich costume, and their plumes dropping softly over their painted faces, make them as bright as Lucifer, in the eyes of the crowd. They ride gracefully, displaying to advantage their elastic forms, swollen into full proportion by exercise and training. As soon as the audience is sufficiently recovered to particularize the different members of the troop, they are attracted by the grotesque behaviour of the clown, who has got upon his horse the wrong way, and sits pre-posterously facing the tail. In this manner he slips on and off, en-couraged with immense laughter. Next the remarks go round, and every one praises to his neighbor the remarkable lightness and agility of a juvenile equestrian. He has not yet completed his eleventh summer, and not a horseman in the troop can vie with him in daring. The ladies who adorn the dress circle, regard him with smiles and approbation. O! pulchrum puerum! What a fair boy! How his ringlets flutter over his brow, in beautiful dishevelment, fanned by the wanton breeze. They could almost pluck him from his flying steed, and arrest his course with kisses. So light and agile is he, that he appears not human, but, as he flies around the ring with a daring rapidity, and his snow-white trousers and gemmed vets mingle their colors, and become indistinct, he seems like an apple-blossom floating on the air. But look! look! What the devil is that fellow at, disrobing himself? He has kicked himself out of his pantaloons, and thrown away his coat, his horse flying all the while. 'Angels and ministers of grace defend us!' he is plucking off his very -- shirt! Nay, nay, do not be so alarmed, nor turn away your heads, ye fair ones, timidly blushing. Look again, and behold a metamorphosis more wonderful than any in Ovid; for lo! he pursues his swift career in the flowing robes of a woman! And now the pony is to perform a no less wonderful exploit, and leap through a balloon on fire. But why should I enumerate all the feats of this wild crew? What with riding, leaping, vaulting, and the most astonishing pirouettes, the first part of the diversions is enacted in a charming style. Who can say that he is not satisfied thus far, or has not got the worth of his money? Not that jolly butcher, not that farmer, not that sedentary schoolman, who has materially assisted his digestion by laughing. 'There is no medicine so good as the genuine ha! ha!'