The Project Gutenberg EBook of Polly of the Circus, by Margaret Mayo

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Title: Polly of the Circus

Author: Margaret Mayo

Posting Date: August 2, 2008 [EBook #859]
Release Date: March, 1997

Language: English

Character set encoding: ASCII

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POLLY OF THE CIRCUS ***

Produced by Charles Keller

POLLY OF THE CIRCUS

By Margaret Mayo

To My "_KLEINE MUTTER_"

Chapter I

The band of the "Great American Circus" was playing noisily. The
performance was in full swing.

Beside a shabby trunk in the women's dressing tent sat a young,
wistful-faced girl, chin in hand, unheeding the chatter of the women
about her or the picturesque disarray of the surrounding objects. Her
eyes had been so long accustomed to the glitter and tinsel of circus
fineries that she saw nothing unusual in a picture that might have held
a painter spellbound.

Circling the inside of the tent and forming a double line down the
centre were partially unpacked trunks belching forth impudent masses
of satins, laces, artificial hair, paper flowers, and paste jewels.
The scent of moist earth mingled oddly with the perfumed odours of the
garments heaped on the grass. Here and there high circles of lights
threw a strong, steady glare upon the half-clad figure of a robust
acrobat, or the thin, drooping shoulders of a less stalwart sister.
Temporary ropes stretched from one pole to another, were laden with
bright-coloured stockings, gaudy, spangled gowns, or dusty street
clothes, discarded by the performers before slipping into their circus
attire. There were no nails or hooks, so hats and veils were pinned to
the canvas walls.

The furniture was limited to one camp chair in front of each trunk,
the till of which served as a tray for the paints, powders and other
essentials of "make-up."

A pail of water stood by the side of each chair, so that the performers
might wash the delicately shaded tights, handkerchiefs and other small
articles not to be entrusted to the slow, careless process of the
village laundry. Some of these had been washed to-night and hung to dry
on the lines between the dusty street garments.

Women whose "turns" cam