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 | City Festivals |  |
Proprietor.
Moral: let the truth prevail,
Though the heavens and earth may fail;
Though for love's endearments pleading,
Love lies wounded, sick, and bleeding.
Nothing holds, in age or youth,
Like the firm, old-fashioned truth;
Nothing long can stand in place,
If truth be not at the base.
Lecturer.
Truth! a curio that is worth
All the others on this earth.
The Disabled Baloonist
(who has made five hundred and sixty-seven successful ascensions, and one unsuccessful one).
Truth! the only star whose ray
Shines the brighter when 'tis day!
Dwarf.
Truth! though sometimes small to see,
Greatness hath her home in thee!
Giant.
Truth! whose strength in field or town,
Tears all worthless structures down!
First Albino.
Truth! a maid whose eyes sincere,
As the mountain brook are clear!
Indian Chief
(aside).
Truth! Humph! Ugh! A great big mound,
Where no white man's scalp is found!
The Sword-eater.
Truth! whose blade of brightest hue
Cleaves the false and spares the true!
The Juggler.
Truth! whose oft-secreted ball
Comes up finally top of all!
The Armless Man.
Truth! in genuine fabric shows,
Made with fingers or with toes!
The Faster.
Truth! a table thickly spread,
Where all hungry may be fed!
The Snake-charmer.
Truth! on whose magnetic arm
Serpents wind and do no harm!
Bearded Lady.
Truth! when I to live, must lie,
Guardian angels, let me die!
[A footstep in the hall. The door opens with a bang;
a large, resolute, but frightened-looking woman
enters, and glares sharply up and down the room.
The Bearded Lady creeps under the table.
Frightened but Resolute-looking Woman.
Lost! Lost! Lost! My husband's lost!
On my lonely bed I've tossed,
Fighting desperation's power,
Waiting for him hour by hour,
Till suspense paled into fear.
Say, freaks, is not my freak here?
Do admit me to him, pray!
Prayers shall for my ticket pay!
Or if he has cut the show,
Tell me where he said he'd go,
So I there no time may waste,
And through other haunts may haste!
[She catches a glimpse of the Bearded Lady under the table.
There he is—cheek, lip, and chin;
Drunk once more, as sure as sin!
[Hauls him from under the table by hair and beard.
Stagger! for your road is broad!
Oh, you hair-faced, bare-faced fraud!
Here's your shawl and bonnet, see?
Now, sir, travel home with me!
[She leads him away, somewhat sobered and very much subdued.
Proprietor.
Beat that, any one who can!
Indian Chief.
Humph! the chin-scalp squaw's a man!
Moral: let the truth prevail,
Though the heavens and earth may fail;
Though for love's endearments pleading,
Love lies wounded, sick, and bleeding.
Nothing holds, in age or youth,
Like the firm, old-fashioned truth;
Nothing long can stand in place,
If truth be not at the base.
Lecturer.
Truth! a curio that is worth
All the others on this earth.
The Disabled Baloonist
(who has made five hundred and sixty-seven successful ascensions, and one unsuccessful one).
Truth! the only star whose ray
Shines the brighter when 'tis day!
125
Truth! though sometimes small to see,
Greatness hath her home in thee!
Giant.
Truth! whose strength in field or town,
Tears all worthless structures down!
First Albino.
Truth! a maid whose eyes sincere,
As the mountain brook are clear!
Indian Chief
(aside).
Truth! Humph! Ugh! A great big mound,
Where no white man's scalp is found!
The Sword-eater.
Truth! whose blade of brightest hue
Cleaves the false and spares the true!
The Juggler.
Truth! whose oft-secreted ball
Comes up finally top of all!
The Armless Man.
Truth! in genuine fabric shows,
Made with fingers or with toes!
The Faster.
Truth! a table thickly spread,
Where all hungry may be fed!
The Snake-charmer.
Truth! on whose magnetic arm
Serpents wind and do no harm!
Bearded Lady.
Truth! when I to live, must lie,
Guardian angels, let me die!
126
Frightened but Resolute-looking Woman.
Lost! Lost! Lost! My husband's lost!
On my lonely bed I've tossed,
Fighting desperation's power,
Waiting for him hour by hour,
Till suspense paled into fear.
Say, freaks, is not my freak here?
Do admit me to him, pray!
Prayers shall for my ticket pay!
Or if he has cut the show,
Tell me where he said he'd go,
So I there no time may waste,
And through other haunts may haste!
[She catches a glimpse of the Bearded Lady under the table.
There he is—cheek, lip, and chin;
Drunk once more, as sure as sin!
[Hauls him from under the table by hair and beard.
Stagger! for your road is broad!
Oh, you hair-faced, bare-faced fraud!
Here's your shawl and bonnet, see?
Now, sir, travel home with me!
[She leads him away, somewhat sobered and very much subdued.
Proprietor.
Beat that, any one who can!
Indian Chief.
Humph! the chin-scalp squaw's a man!
| City Festivals | |