Watch Yourself Go By Part 14

When the grandmother informed the boy the family held the contents of the old chest as almost sacred, that the linen was the last winding sheets of those of his family who had gone to the great beyond, his shame brought a flood of tears that nothing the grandmother could say would stop.

It was the custom that persons who died in those days were covered with whitest linen and this linen was ever afterwards preserved by the family as sacred.

The grandmother in gentle tones reminded the boy of loved ones whom he held in sweetest remembrance, and when he fully realized that the linen in the old chest had been their last covering the tears of the boy and the aged woman mingled as he solemnly promised to so conduct himself in the future that his behavior would never wound her feelings more.

Thereafter the boy always found a loyal defender in the grandmother when troubles came to him.

"I'll jes be durned ef ol' gran'm.u.t.h.e.r ain't got more sense in a minute than her son Ned will have ef he lives twict es old es Jehu Adams," said Lin, referring to the oldest man in the neighborhood. "Why, jes' see what she hes dun fer that boy. He's a perfec' little angel since she hauled him over the coals. Bet he'd never teched them sheets ef he'd knowed they wus fer layin' out dead peepul in. He'd got others somehow, an' I'd been sort a lazy like 'bout sewin' 'em on the tent ef I'd knowed what they'd bin used fur. It's no wonder Baggy Allison and Hughey Boggs got skeered. Durned ef they warn't purty near ghosts, enny how."

"Ef it had been left to gran'm.u.t.h.e.r she'd let the show go on es long es we had the sheets hung up. They warn't hurtin' n.o.body. No, by golly, it's jes' like Ned; he's jes' like his daddy an' the other Baptusses.

They don't hev any fun and they hate to hear a body laugh. Huh, ef it had been a prayer meetin' or somethin' mournful for the Baptusses'

meetin' house to git money fur, Ned ud never tore down the tent. Durn him! His heart ain't bigger'n a rat pellet and it's twict es hard. He don't know nuthin' but to eat an' pray. Let him k.u.m yere fer another meal of vittles and I'll not cook it fur him; I'll jes' tell Mary and John so. Why, grandmother's talkin' to him done Alfurd more good than all the whippin's he ever got in his born life."

"It jes' worries Ned to deth to see a boy, a boy. He gets a heap of pleasure out of not havin' any fun in life."

CHAPTER EIGHT

Though the road be long and dreary, And the end be out of sight, Foot it bravely, strong or weary, Trust in G.o.d and do the right.

The realities of life are continually changing. Persons can retain a hobby or an illusion for a time or for all time. An illusion may live in our minds, even become a part of our lives. Life is but thought.

Pleasant illusions are, as a rule, weapons against meanness and littleness. Illusions, when based upon the sensible and material things of this life, are uplifting.

It is said genius and common sense never dwell in the same mortal. The lives of all of those of genius of whom the world has been informed have been governed to a very great extent by illusions not fanatical fads, not an illusion that impels one to endeavor to solve improbable problems.

The centralization of ideas on some particular project or profession that appeared impracticable at first, often leads to an inspiration, the enthusiasm created by the illusions leading to success. Illusions have side-tracked many life-failures.

You may endeavor to persuade yourself that you have no illusions. Search your mind. Is there not a recollection of something you have worked and hoped for? You may not have attained that which you aimed at, yet the illusion enriched your imagination. Is there not something that you dreamed of in youth, forgotten for years, that has come to you later on?

Hug your illusions if they are pleasant. Treasure them, they make you cheerful, they sun your soul.

The father and mother of Alfred had different ideas of the boy's future.

The father was wedded to his calling and fondly hoped the boy would follow in his footsteps in mechanical pursuits. It was the mother's hope that the son would become a medical pract.i.tioner. The grandfather prayed that the boy would embrace the ministry as had two of his sons.

Consequently, when Alfred seriously announced that he had determined to become a clown in the circus, the family were greatly shocked, but the boy's declaration was regarded as a harmless illusion. This idea had taken complete control of his boyish imagination. Urged on by illusory hopes he was constantly practicing tricks and antics that led him into many heartbreaking escapades that made the cellar sessions more frequent. But nothing could suppress his good nature and innate love of fun.

There was but one human being in the world thoroughly in sympathy with the boy's ambitions. She it was who bought the rouge and red that painted his face in his first attempts to become a clown. She it was who cut up one of her best red skirts to complete the costume of which Mrs.

Young furnished the foundation in the garments Alfred was sent home in the day of the rescue from the raft. And it is a fact that to this day the costumes of clowns and near-clowns have been patterned after those self-same garments and they are as strikingly funny to spectators today as they were in the days Alfred first wore them, a tribute to Lin's ingenuity.

Lin often remarked: "Alfurd will come to town some day a real clown in a circus and the whole country will turn out to see him, and Litt Dawson (the Congressman) won't be so much when Alfurd gits a-goin'. Why, he kin sing eny song and do ent cut-up antik eny of 'em kin. He's the cutest boy I ever seed. They'll never whup his devilishness out of him."

Lin was always an appreciative audience for Alfred. When he learned to do head-sets, hand-springs and the like she urged him on to greater acrobatic achievements. When he attempted to walk on his hands she followed his zig-zag course, steadying him when he threatened to topple over.

When Bent Wilgus, a Bridgeport boy, came up to Jeffries' Commons and entered the ring that was once enclosed by Alfred's tent, and performed a dozen feats that Alfred had never even witnessed, thereby winning the applause of the crowd of boys, both Lin and Alfred remained silent. When he did a round off a flip-flap and a high back somersault, a row of head-sets across the ring, finis.h.i.+ng by doing heels in the mud, Alfred turned green with envy. He felt his reputation slipping away from him and realized he was deposed as the boys' and girls' idol, as an actor.

Lin felt like driving the usurper off the commons. Later, she consoled Alfred with the statement that Bent Wilgus had gum in his shoes that made him bounce so. "His daddy keeps a shoe store an' thet's where he gits bouncin' shoes from. I'll git ye a pair ef I hev to send to Filadelphy fur 'em."

The Quaker City was the metropolis of the world to the good people of the town in those days. New York City was never considered in the same breath with old Philly.

Brownsville had but one representative in the show profession so far as any one knew. He had left the town many years before and it was reported had become a great actor. Alfred had never heard the word actor save in connection with a circus performer. He had never witnessed or even heard of a dramatic actor. He had gotten his idea for his impersonation from a rider, who, standing on a broad pad on a horse's back in the circus ring, impersonated noted characters such as Richard III, Daniel Boone, Davy Crockett and a shepherd boy.

The reputation of Tony Bailles, the only actor Brownsville ever produced, was folklore in his native place. Tony had never appeared in his home town. And that which greatly enhanced the reputation of the great actor in the minds of the people in his home was the oft repeated stories of his prowess as a fighter.

In those days every man and boy was judged by his personal courage.

Courage was the supreme test by which all males were gauged. The man or boy who did not have the bravery to uphold his dignity with his fists was not worthy.

In the tales told of Tony Bailles' great prowess with his fists and feet, it was a.s.serted that he more often used his feet than his fists and that his adversary rarely got near him. As they advanced upon him Tony kicked them under the chin just once. One kick and all the fight was out of them.

Tony was one of Alfred's illusions. He desired to imitate him, travel all over the land and become a great actor, a greater actor than even his heroic model, as Alfred had never heard Tony's great feats described. The kick under the chin was Tony's only feat impressed strongly enough on Alfred's mind to have him imitate.

Tommy White, Lash Hyatt and Jim Campbell were either housed up or walking about with stiff necks and swollen jaws ere it was discovered that Alfred was imitating Tony Bailles. Lash Hyatt's folks, feeling sure the boy had the mumps, sent for the doctor. It was then revealed that Alfred did not fight fair but "kicked you under the chin before you could raise a hand," as the boys described it.

Alfred tried the Tony Bailles' high kick on big, husky George Herbertson. The kick started as it had with the other boys but instead of reaching the chin at which it was aimed, a big, husky blacksmith's helper checked it. Alfred sat down so suddenly he imagined the earth had "flew" up and hit him. While the blacksmith helper held his leg aloft Alfred, as he lay on his back, saw a big fist coming straight for his face. He has no distinct recollection of when it reached its landing place.

Uncle Ned Snowden a.s.sisted Alfred home, where he remained in doors several days with two parti-hued eyes.

While housed up, Alfred promised Lin he would always thereafter fight fair. Consequently, he thereafter carried two big limestones, one in each coat pocket for George Herbertson. Somehow the blacksmith boy was always too quick for Alfred and the next time they met, which was on the Bridgeport wharf, the blacksmith boy trimmed Alfred again. And thus it was that the old iron bridge, the first of its kind constructed in the United States and built by John Herbertson, the father of George, became the dead line between the boys of the two towns.

If a boy from one town was found in the other he was compelled to fight or flee.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The First Iron Bridge Built in the U. S.]

The word "actor" to the good people of those days always referred to a circus performer as mentioned previously. It is related of Joseph Jefferson, the dean of the dramatic profession, that while visiting his plantation near New Iberia, Louisiana, he walked over the grounds accompanied by an old, colored field hand. He talked in his usual manner with the old negro telling him of the many cities in which his contracts compelled him to act ere he would again visit his beautiful southern home.

The old negro said he was sorry "kase all de folks, white uns an' black uns, was jes mos' crazy for to see ma.s.sa Joe ak." As they walked and talked the old negro informed Mr. Jefferson that Dan Rice's circus was "dere a while back, jes on the aidge ob kane cuttin' time, an' dey had some mighty fine actuhs but nuthin' like de actin' ob Ma.s.sah Joe."

The old fellow, growing more confidential at the pleased manner in which Mr. Jefferson received his compliments, added that he would gladly walk to New Orleans to see him act. When the great actor advised the old fellow that he would not appear in New Orleans that year, the old fellow said: "Now des look at dat. I'll nevah git to see you ak, Ma.s.sa Joe."

The actor a.s.sured him that at some time in the future he would have that pleasure. The old negro said: "No, no, I'm an ole man. I ain't got much futhah to go, an' I des doan wan' to die fo' I see you ak."

Mr. Jefferson a.s.sured the earnest old negro that he would be glad to arrange some plan whereby not only he but all of his friends in the parish might witness him act.

The old negro began in an entreating tone: "Ma.s.sa Joe, I knows you'd like to ak fer all ob us but Lor' only knows when it'll be. I'se mos'

f'raid to ax ye but de gra.s.s out yar is so sof' an 'nice I jes' thought maybe ye'd ak out a little fer me. Jes' twist about an' turn a couple of summah-saults fer dis pooh ol' n.i.g.g.e.r."

This was the only idea Alfred had of acting. He longed to see Tony Bailles act, that he might catch an idea. He felt it would be so much easier for him to learn to act by seeing Bailles than it would be to see others, that Bailles was more like himself, not a superior being, as other actors were regarded.

Cousin Charley was even more elated than Alfred when they read and re-read the joyous announcement, to them, that Van Amburg's Great Golden Menagerie and Zoological Inst.i.tute was headed for Brownsville.

The startling news was spread that Tony Bailles was with the show.

Alfred scanned the bills, no names appearing on them or descriptions of the great feats their owners performed, and his youthful mind could not comprehend this omission in advertising. Animals of all species were pictured but the graceful bare-back rider, high in the air above the horse's back, throwing a back somersault through a paper balloon, was not there. The lady rider on the back of a fast flying steed, one foot pointing to six o'clock, the other to high noon, was searched for in vain.

Alfred finally arrived at this explanation of the oversight in not advertising the circus actors--that the menagerie was so immense the circus was a secondary consideration. He argued that they never advertised the side-show but it was always there.

Circus day dawned, the crowds came, the old town was a scene of bustle and activity. The town people were all agog, all the older ones seemed to be seeking Tony Bailles. Alfred and Charley followed his brother Joe up through Bridgeport to the new show grounds. The advertis.e.m.e.nts gave it that the old bottom, the usual show grounds, was too small for the big show.