in a wrinkled dress-coat, seemed the most enviable of
mortals, being on speaking terms with all the celestial creatures who
jumped over flags and through balloons; how the clown was the dearest,
funniest of men; how the young athletes in tights and spangles were my
_beau-ideals_ of masculinity; and how La Belle Rose, with one foot upon
her native heath, otherwise a well-padded saddle, and the other pointed
in the direction of the sweet little cherubs that sat up aloft, was the
most fascinating of her sex. I am persuaded that circuses fill an aching
void in the universe. What children did before their invention I shudder
to think, for circuses are to childhood what butter is to bread; and
what the world did before the birth of Barnum is an almost equally
frightful problem. Some are born to shows, others attain shows, and yet
again others have shows thrust upon them. Barnum is a born showman. If
ever a man fulfills his destiny, it is the discoverer of Tom Thumb. With
the majority of men and women life is a failure. Not until one leg
dangles in the grave is their _raison d'etre_ disclosed. The round
people always find themselves sticking in the square holes, and _vice
versa_; but with Barnum we need not deplore a _vie manquee_. We can
smile at his reverses, for even the phoenix has cause to blush in his
presence. Though pursued by tongues of fire, Barnum remains invincible
when iron, stone, and mortar crumble around him; and while yet the smoke
is telling volumes of destruction, the cheery voice of the showman
exclaims, "Here you are, gentlemen; admission fifty cents, children half
price."

Apropos of Barnum, once in my life I gave myself up to unmitigated joy.
Weary of lecturing, singing the song "I would I were a boy again," I
went to see the elephant. To speak truly, I saw not one elephant, but
half a dozen. I had a feast of roaring and a flow of circus. In fact I
indulged in the wildest dissipation. I visited Barnum's circus and
sucked peppermint candy in a way most childlike and bland. The reason
seems obscure, but circuses and peppermint candy are as inseparable as
peanuts and the Bowery. Appreciating this solemn fact, Barnum provides
bigger sticks adorned with bigger red stripes than ever Romans sucked in
the palmy days of the Coliseum. In the dim distance I mistook them for
barbers' poles, but upon direct application I recognized them for my
long lost own.

However, let me, like the Germans, begin with the creati