the
clown gets wropped up like brothers; which I'm like one of the fam'iy!
I fetches water an' he'ps rub hosses an', speakin' gen'ral, does more
nigger work than I ever crosses up with prior endoorin' my entire life.
But knowin' the clown pays for all; sech trivial considerations as
pullin' on tent ropes an' spreadin' sawdust disappears before the
honour of his a'quaintance. It's my knowin' the clown that leads to
disaster.

"'This merrymaker, who's a "jocund wight" as Colonel Sterett says, gets
a heap drunk one evenin' 'an' sleeps out in the rain, an' he awakes as
hoarse as bull-frogs. He ain't able to sing his song in the ring.
It's jest before they begins.

"'"Dan," he croaks, plenty dejected, "I wish you'd clown up an' go in
an' sing that song."

"'This cantata he alloodes to, is easy; it's "Roll Jurdan, Roll," an' I
hears it so much at nigger camp meetin's an' sim'lar distractions, that
I carols it in my sleep. As the clown throws out his bluff I considers
awhile some ser'ous. I feels like mebby I've cut the trail of a
cunnin' idee. When Jule an' old Hickey an' the balance of them
Sni-a-bar outcasts sees me in a clown's yooniform, tyrannisin' about,
singin' songs an' leadin' up the war-jig gen'ral, they'll regret the
opinions they so freely expresses an' take to standin' about, hopin'
I'll bow. They'll regyard knowin' me as a boon. With that, I tells
the clown to be of good cheer. I'll prance in an' render that lay an'
his hoarseness won't prove no setback to the gaiety of nations.

"'But I don't sing after all; an' I don't pile up Jule an' old Hickey
an' the sports of Sni-a-bar neither in any all 'round jumble of
amazement at my genius.

"'"Dan," says the ring master when we're in the dressin' room, "when
the leapin' begins, you-all go on with the others an' do a somersault
or two?"

"'"Shore!" I says.

"'I feels as confidant as a kangaroo! Which I never does try it none;
but I supposes that all you has to do is hit the springboard an' let
the springboard do the rest. That's where I'm barkin' at a knot!

"'This yere leapin' comes first on the bill. I ain't been in the ring
yet; the tumblin' business is where I makes my deeboo. I've got on a
white clown soote with big red spots, an' my face is all flour. I'm as
certain of my comin' pop'larity as a wet dog. I shore allows that when
Jule an' old Hickey observes my graceful agility an' then hears me
warble "Roll Jurdan, Roll," I'll make 'em ha