Chapter 6. The Circus
Well do I remember my eighth birthday. The pair of new skates was wonderful, but the best was yet to come. Tomorrow would be the Circus day and we would all go to the Circus.
It was just before dawn. The still of the night had given way to the strange sounds coming from the street which had awakened me. It was a moment or two before I realized that it was the sound of wagons โ big, heavy wagons โ lots of them โ rolling down Villa Avenue. Jane, Mabel and I hopped out of bed and hung out the window to watch the animals come up the street. The creaking of the harness, the muffled noise of horsesโ hooves, the crunch of the ironclad wheels, the jingling of the wagons, the occasional shout of the drivers and now and then a pistol-like report as a long whip cracked just over the backs of the straining horses. It was not a big noise but it was impressive and in the predawn darkness, it filled my heart with excitement.
Peering through the open window into the darkness, I was met with a strange sight indeed: a long line of big wagons pulled by teams of horses. The wagons were shrouded in heavy canvas. We knew that under the canvas were beautifully gilded cages housing lions and tigers, monkeys, rhinos โ all the jungle animals โ even a big glass enclosed cage full of snakes โ anacondas and boa constrictors.
Beside some of the wagons walked men carrying lanterns to light the way. The thin feeble light in the predawn darkness gave a weird effect so unlike the glittering circus parade later on that day, with its bands, its calliope, its prancing horses in gay trappings.
Strange noises came from the shrouded wagons: the roar of a lion or the snarls of the big jungle cats gave us a big thrill. A break in the line of wagons was filled with a string of camels each led by a rope attached to a halter. Behind them rolled another wagon which was pulled by a huge elephant led by a man with a short stick. Following this wagon was a string of six more elephants each holding on to the tail of the one in front. Then came three giraffes whose heads were almost up to my window. There was a team of zebras pulling a light wagon. They looked like mules that had been decorated with paint. It was turning light by the time the last of the wagons had passed. I donโt know how long the procession lasted, but what seemed like a countless number of wagons rolled by on Villa Avenue on their way from the railroad siding a few blocks away to The Alameda and the big hay field that later became the Singletary Tract.
We could hardly wait to eat breakfast in our eagerness to go watch the huge canvas tents go up. The elephants seemed to know just what to do as they tugged and pulled on ropes and suddenly, as if by magic, the huge circus tent stood before us.